Last month I traveled to Los Angeles for a few days to visit my dearest friend whom I’ve affectionately nicknamed Poptart. I try to get out to see her at least once a year. We had a great few days and right before I left, she said, “Hold on, I bought us books!” She went off to her bedroom and came back with two hardcover copies of It’s Messy by Amanda de Cadenet. I marveled at its cover, thanked Poptart, threw it into my carry on and headed to LAX. I devoured the entire thing on the flight home, laughing out loud so many times the people sitting in front of me asked what I was reading. So many people present themselves in a way that doesn’t get to the core of what roaming the earth as a human is actually like. They gloss and fluff and primp and put a shine to things that end up devoid of any personhood or real meaning. It’s Messy revels in the realness of personhood, parenthood, womanhood, youth, age, body image, sex, and self-love. It is relatable, inspiring, and so very funny.