My book club is reading Waiting to Exhale for our January meeting. It’s a busy month with birthdays, work holiday parties, Christmas and New Year’s so many of us don’t have time to read a deep, long novel. We wanted to keep things light and continue the discussion around how black women are the greatest beings in the world.
I realized that I had not read this book or seen this movie in over a decade. I didn’t have a copy of the book at home, so I took myself to Half-Priced Bookstore. I was pleased to snatch one up at only $3.99. I approached the counter and was feeling quite proud of my purchase. I was buying a classic for mere chump change.
When I shared my sentiments with the cashier, the young lady looked at the book and gave me a blank stare. It was every bit of obvious that she had no idea what this book was and why it would have ever been considered a classic.
In her defense, she was a very young white girl who didn’t look to be a day over 18 years old. This book and everything it represented was older than her. She had no idea how much history was represented in these pages.
And don’t get me started on the soundtrack. It’s one of the top 10 soundtracks in movie history (and I am willing and ready to debate that). Matter of fact, I’m listening to it now. Baby Face knows he put his foot into writing these songs.
But I digress.
The story takes place in the ’90s when people still used phone books, smoked cigarettes inside restaurants, watched Cheers and drove Celicas (no offense to those who still do). And they functioned quite well without Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. There was no stalking someone’s profile online. You had to actually pick up the phone to have a conversation and communicate.
Surprisingly, I’ve actually struggled with reading the story again. As a 38-year-old, black woman, it hit way closer to home than I realized. Life’s events have given me a new understanding of what these characters faced. I not only saw bit and pieces of my own situation echoed in the character’s lives, I felt like I knew each of them personally because I could name at least two women facing similar situations.
Savannah’s dating frustrations as a single, career-minded woman were still valid and mirrored my own. Robin’s cluelessness and desire to have a child led her down the path of repeated failures that I’ve seen repeated in too many 30-something-year-old women. Bernadine’s broken marriage reminded me that no marriage is perfect and too many women are living in pretty prisons, hoping that the façade doesn’t fade. Gloria’s inability to fill the role of a father for her teenage son reminded me of how many women are raising kids on their own and doing the best they can with all they know.
All of a sudden, I was no longer reading for entertainment purposes and found myself wondering how a story over twenty-six years old was somehow still relevant today but for all the wrong reasons. I know too many Savannahs who are searching from city to city for love while dealing with ignorant family members who make it seem like it’s a problem to have high standards in dating. I’ve talked to too many Robins who are beautiful but have low self-esteem and get wrapped up in the lies of love out of desperation. I’ve met too many Bernadines who are so busy helping someone else build a dream, that they’ve forgotten what theirs is and dig further into an emotional hole. I’ve seen too many Glorias turning to food and their children for companionship out of fear.
I kind of wanted to throw the book across the room. It just felt like the same ol’ thing but a different time period. Everything, including the ghosting men and cheating husbands, sounded too familiar which was not comforting. I wanted to remember the characters from the movie and the beauty of the soundtrack. I guess I was hoping that the change in generation meant a change in the willingness to build meaningful relationships. But . . . I’m not so sure the change in timing has made any difference.
Had the dating issues of the 90’s just been replaced with dating apps and social media? Did cigarette smoking in restaurants just get replaced with legalized marijuana? Did wondering if your significant other is cheating just get replaced with stalking their IG profile online?
Are we still waiting to exhale?
Before I went down the foxhole of relational hell, I had to shift my perspective.
Terry McMillan was giving a sneak-peak into the nuances of dating, family and friendship from a woman’s point of view. This story gave voice to girlfriends around the world who are over thirty and still trying to figure it all out. While the plot may have centered around four black women, their issues echo in every race, culture, and city. The desire for truth, honesty, and purpose is universal. She made it reasonable and relatable to not have it all figured out.
One of the biggest focuses of the story was survival and friendship. I can look within my own circles and see growth, dynamic relationships and endless support. One scroll through IG reminds me that while there are some difficult situations out there, all hope is not lost because of the large network of women pulling hard for one another.
There are still the Glorias who will get your hair right, fix you a plate and help you network with other amazing women positively impacting the community. There are the Savannahs who are professional, fiercely independent and value the significance of family. I get excited when I see the Bernadines encouraging other moms to not let unfortunate issues derail their mission and zeal for life. I applaud the Robins who are expressive, romantic and unashamedly sexy. Do you, boo boo!
Life is not perfect and does not follow a perfect plan, no matter how well-crafted it is. But when you surround yourself with honest, genuine friends, you can exhale. Exhale the pressures of the day, exhale the unmet expectations, exhale the burden of family and the inevitability of aging. You can exhale again and again because this life is a journey, one you can enjoy on your own or with loved ones. Shoop, shoop, shoo-be-doop.
