The Review

It’s one of those kinds of books. Starts out beautiful, perfect in fact, until an ugly truth gets thrown in, uncovering everyone’s dirty secrets. The one thing I liked particularly well about this book is the vivid descriptions of all the characters. I have problems in forming images of book characters in my mind if they go beyond 3 people. But Sara did it immaculately. I didn’t find myself flipping through previous pages trying to find out who was who and trying to match the descriptions with my mental images of each character. She made it so fun and relatable too, it was amazing. It was relatable in the sense that you know these people. You either know someone like them in school, in your workplace, or someone you’ve briefly known in the past. It’s those kinds of connections Sara did so very well.

The plot built up to a climax which I wish I knew where to pinpoint exactly where the peak was. I couldn’t tell because there were so many, and I don’t personally favor that. The story also did not come to a conclusion, ending with a cliffhanger after a series of high climax points which got me slightly confused. Having said that, however, this could be normal considering there is supposed to be a second (and possibly the last book?) that is called the “The Good Girls”.

The whole story gripped me from start to end, not a moment felt draggy. It was a good blend of mystery and your typical light chick flick story. This book would be sitting on the fence between a heavy and light read. Just a light hint of both!

The Reflection

All the characters in this book live just like us. The life we choose to show and the secrets we choose to hide from the public eye. They appear flawless in their outer shells but bruised and broken behind closed doors. This could relate to most, if not all of us. We are human. The characters in this book chose to use their past experiences to cover themselves up bruises that never heals. They continue picking on them until they label themselves damaged. A specific line in this book caught my attention – “All of us are damaged in our own ways. It’s just that most people call it experience”. 

Experience is one of the many factors that differentiate us from others. The things we go through and face can shape us, our wants, our needs, our fears, our thoughts and eventually our personalities. This just goes to show that we can either use our experiences to make us or break us.

Everyone is fighting their own demons. Don’t let your battle tear you down. Wear those scars with pride, let them heal and give you strength.

Experience is not a damage done. It is a lesson learnt.

Liyana Sidek

Those tiny ants you see at almost every corner of your house, have you ever watched them closely? You’ve probably seen one carrying that a piece of crumb. Have you tried to stop it? Flick one ant away and it’ll go flying. But have you ever tried to stop an army of ants on a mission to find food together? Support from each other keeps them going.

We are just like these ants. I found support in CrossFit. I grew to love the sport and being an athlete became a huge part of me mainly because of the community. Just last year during an annual CrossFit competition, I cried and sobbed during a workout for the very first time. I never really understood support until that last grueling workout was released.

The weight prescribed by the workout was something I’ve never lifted in a workout before and with this tiny frame? It could easy crush me. Still, I approached it without much thought and dove straight in! First lift in and my first thought was PHEW ok.. this is heavy. Approaching my second lift, I had a few seconds of pause at the bottom but it felt like a thousand seconds and it felt like I was standing back up in slow motion. I dropped the barbell and tried to regain composure. I glanced at my judge, who had a clipboard in hand, reminding me that I only had 2 reps in. TWO REPS. My arms were starting to ache and my legs were wobbly. A long, looooong way to go. Lift after lift after lift it grew heavier and heavier. My arms were starting to give in, I was failing most of them and the barbell was crushing down on my arms. I desperately searched for every drop of courage I had, inhaled and exhaled a thousand times trying to make successful lifts. But at one point, my spirits broke and my muscles gave up. I got down on both knees, leaned on my barbell and rested my head on it. Every inch of my body was dripping in sweat, my head and face felt overheated while I could hear my blood pumping in my ears. My heart was beating so fast when I realized tears rolling down my face. At that moment, I could hear my old self saying, “You didn’t think you could do this, did you? You are still weak!” Tears didn’t stop as I shook my head repeatedly and slumped down on the floor. I was ready to call it quits. Forget everything. I was done. Then I felt someone crouch on the floor beside me. I looked up to see my judge’s face and hear him say, “You either finish this, or you don’t get a score in”. I shook my head and said “I give up. No more”. He looked at me straight in the eyes and said “Get up. Don’t worry about the time. JUST GET UP”. I heard shouts, cheers and claps. I looked up and saw my friends, the community I adored telling me to get back up and finish what I started. Their faces showed not a drop of doubt. I saw them clapping and all I heard was “You can do this!”. I forced myself up slowly, walked to my barbell and after a long staredown, I picked it up.  A surge of pain struck my arms but the cheers were louder. Every lift felt slow and incredibly painful but I could hear the shouts of support that fueled me to go on.

After almost an hour of intensity, the longest hour of my entire life, it finally ended with a loud thud of the barbell before I dropped on the floor and writhed in pain. A hand grabbed my arm, another one patted my back and before I knew it, there were cheers and familiar faces were suddenly in my view. Smiling, laughing and with eyes so proud that I found the energy to smile in between tears and pain. I rolled over and saw my judge crouched down again beside me, clipboard in hand, while he said “Congratulations. See! You did it. So, so proud of you”.  I felt like a winner. I soaked in my own sweat and tears, but best of all, my victory.