When Waiting to Exhale came out, I was still in college. I read it later in my early twenties and still couldn't relate to women in their mid-to-late thirties. It's interesting that now -- as a 37-year-old woman around the same age Gloria, Robin, Savannah and Bernadine were in Waiting to Exhale -- I find their fifty-something selves infinitely more relatable in Terry McMillan's sequel, Getting to Happy.
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I have always had good friends. From the time I was three, I can think back and remember my best friends. Suzie in elementary school. Anna in middle school. Lynette and Kathy in high school. Some friendships are fleeting—I can count the aforementioned girls as this. Some friendships, though, stand the test of time. My college roommate, Molly. My dear friend and fellow pastor’s wife, Pam. Women that I don’t see for a few years, yet can pick up the phone and start up where we left off. They know me through and through, yet still love me.
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The phenomenon that was Waiting to Exhale sort of skipped over me (I was in high school when the book and movie came out), so I was completely unfamiliar with the story and characters when I got the sequel Read more >