Counting the Cost

Lost Count
I had hoped to have a stronger connection with this book, given my support for victims, but I encountered significant difficulty while reading it. My struggle wasn't due to the writing itself but rather the language employed within. It became evident that the author was attempting to navigate a delicate path, indicating that she may not yet be fully prepared to open up and is still grappling with her upbringing.

The author's narrative conveyed a sense that she primarily attributes her father's wrongdoing to financial matters, while her mother appears to bear no responsibility for what transpired in her life. She paints her childhood as if it were a fairytale upbringing, yet it lacks acknowledgment of the inherent flaws and issues that existed.

The impact of Jill's homeschooling experience becomes evident throughout this book. It's important to clarify that this isn't a critique of the book's writing quality; in fact, it's well-written. However, my perspective on the writing style might be influenced by the fact that I listened to the audiobook.

Jill's portrayal in the story leaves a distinct impression of timidity and apprehension, as if she's concerned about the possibility of a family member reading her words and inadvertently hurting her siblings. It raises a significant question: How can one fully express their truth when the fear of causing harm to others lingers in the background?

It falls somewhere between not bad and not good. What it needed wasn't more details or drama, but a deeper and more genuine examination of the author's life. I hope the author continues with therapy and eventually realizes that assessing one's childhood doesn't equate to its collapse. If evaluating anything, be it your upbringing, your relationships, or your faith, leads to its collapse, it suggests that it was already fragile before you began.