Last year, my older brother gifted me Becoming by Michelle Obama for my 23rd birthday, after I naively and boldly claimed I’d only read paperbacks—completely unaware of how expensive books actually are.
It hadn’t felt right to read it until now.
To be honest, I picked it up because I am currently going through another episode of phone issues, as I’m wont to do a few times every year, and I’ve read almost every paperback I own—a staggering 9 out of 13.
I started yesterday evening and I’m currently on page 136 (1:30 am, 09/10/24). I don’t know if I will finish it on time because I’m consciously saving it for SAED lectures when I eventually go to camp this month, but it has been irresistible.
I find myself asking why it has taken me so long to delve (oh look, I’m an AI) into the beauty that is this memoir, but I’m reminded of what has steadfastly become my mantra: all in due time and it seems like now is the perfect time.
I like the fact that it has given me so much to think about.
I love how I can relate to how Michelle was struggling with finding herself and her purpose, but before I dive deeper into that, the one person who has stood out so far and won my respect and admiration is her mother, Marian Robinson.
I do not see myself ever giving up work or career to stay home and raise my kids (this is not affirmative because I believe nothing is set in stone until it is, and even then it can be broken), but if I ever get to the end of the self-debate over being child-free or not, I aspire to raise my kids the way she raised Craig and Michelle.
“My mother maintained the sort of parental mind-set that I now recognize as brilliant and nearly impossible to emulate—a kind of unflappable Zen neutrality. I had friends whose mothers rode their highs and lows as if they were their own, and I knew plenty of other kids whose parents were too overwhelmed by their own challenges to be much of a presence at all. My mom was simply even-keeled. She wasn’t quick to judge and she wasn’t quick to meddle. Instead, she monitored our moods and bore benevolent witness to whatever travails or triumphs a day might bring. When things were bad, she gave us only a small amount of pity. When we’d done something great, we received just enough praise to know she was happy with us, but never so much that it became the reason we did what we did.
Advice, when she offered it, tended to be of the hard-boiled and pragmatic variety. “You don’t have to like your teacher,” she told me one day after I came home spewing complaints. “But that woman’s got the kind of math in her head that you need in yours. Focus on that and ignore the rest.”
She loved us consistently, Craig and me, but we were not overmanaged. Her goal was to push us out into the world. “I’m not raising babies,” she’d tell us. “I’m raising adults.” She and my dad offered guidelines rather than rules. It meant that as teenagers we’d never have a curfew. Instead, they’d ask, “What’s a reasonable time for you to be home?” and then trust us to stick to our word.”
An excerpt from Becoming by Michelle Obama.
With unflappable Zen-like neutrality—I believe for her to have maintained this for years, it is a fundamental core of her person.
As someone who is prone to experiencing certain emotions in extremes, even though I aspire to it, I doubt I would ever get to this stage.
She may not have been perfect, as we all aren’t, but she raised two successful, healthy children, and that is one of the greatest achievements on earth.
It’s clear that Michelle’s parents gave her a strong foundation, but even with all that stability, she struggled to find her path. And that’s what makes this book so powerful—it’s a reminder that no matter how put-together someone seems, the search for fulfillment is universal.
11/10/24, 10:11 am
It just dawned on me that I haven’t picked up Becoming in almost 24 hours. I guess it’s making it to camp.
I’ll definitely be sharing my thoughts once I’m done with this gem but for now, let’s talk about Michelle Obama.
She had it all: two very fancy degrees from two very fancy colleges, a lucrative job, an office on the 47th floor, a Saab, and a refurbished apartment above her parents, all at 27—but she was unfulfilled.
She wasn’t happy, she wanted more but didn’t know what the "more" was, and she was scared to walk away from the familiar. This is why it is good to have an amazing partner by your side, but that’s another story for another day.
The thing is, Michelle and I have a lot in common, except I have a poor degree from a university that was once great, a freelance contract that I love and absolutely hate, no car, and I still live in the same bedroom I’ve had since I was 14, which shows zero of my personality because I’ve spent the last decade mostly living in boarding schools and hostels for an education that I no longer see the point of.
Okay, maybe the only thing we have in common is the fact that, almost at the same point in our lives, we want and believe we should be doing more with our lives.
Oh, and unlike Michelle who had Obama, who forced her to reexamine her life, I have just my mind, so… Ha!
I put myself in the position she found herself in, and I don’t think I could do it. I don’t think I have that courage, to walk away from a stable job and all the comfort it brings.
I was very envious as I read. I was envious—first of her upbringing, the stability of her parents, then her discipline and tenacity, but most especially of the opportunities and privileges that she had.
I’m writing all over the place. I think what called to me the most about that book was the fact that I could relate to her struggle, that someone who was once the FLOTUS, at some point in her life, had the same crisis I’m currently experiencing.
I’m done (10/21/24).
Since my father’s land has refused to call me to service (why I am so eager to go to a three-week paramilitary camp training is a story for another day) and the national grid has had series of epileptic episodes recently, I’ve had the time.
I’m beyond grateful that Becoming was my first foray into the world of memoirs. The storytelling, elegance, and vulnerability of the whole book is beyond refreshing.
Another part of the book that amazed me but I unfortunately can’t relate to, is her relationship with Barack.
When people talk about marriage, especially from the working mother’s perspective, there’s always a bit of romanticizing going on. In Becoming, Michelle bares it all about what it means to be with a partner from a different background with larger-than-life dreams and an unshakeable conviction of his purpose in life, a working mom, and then the FLOTUS.
The good, the bad, and the ugly while growing and becoming her true self—It truly is an exceptional read.
In the end, Becoming isn’t just about Michelle’s journey—it’s a reflection of how we’re all constantly evolving, navigating life’s crossroads, and grappling with our own sense of purpose. There’s comfort in knowing that even someone as accomplished as Michelle Obama once felt unfulfilled, unsure, and searching for “more.”
What Becoming reminds me, more than anything, is that it’s okay to be a work in progress. It’s okay to change course, to outgrow phases of life, and to embrace the uncertainty.
Mind Dump?
This isn’t the review I promised btw.
I’m thinking of doing a review of all the books that made my year towards the ending of the year so watch out for that.
And incase it wasn’t obvious, I’m recommending this book. If you’re looking for your next read, give Becoming a try, you won’t regret it.
Now that I’ve caught the memoir bug, all recommendation are welcome. I would still prefer a paperback but I’ve rediscovered my love for Pdfs, so…….
What memoir should I check out next?
Last and definitely not the least, how have you been?
Really?
Talk to me.
Sending you hugs
It's a process, try to enjoy it. Most times, clarity meets us on the journey.
I looking forward to you enjoying it.
I haven't read becoming yet, but I've added it to my list of should read. I'm can't say how I'm feeling atm. I'm confused and going through so many emotions at the same time. In this journey of self-discovery that I'm on, I keep getting lost.