It’s almost like this book, Girl, Wash Your Face, by Rachel Hollis, was written for readers like me who are wrought with cynicism as the ripe old age of twenty-six. 
First, I don’t often read “self-help” books. Hollis made it clear that this book was FULL of her advice. Things she learned through experiencing life. I did not know who Hollis was when I borrowed her book from a friend. After skimming through the Introduction, my mind’s filter only took in “lifestyle blogger”. The faucet of criticism and judgement was turned on and flowing freely, yet I read the first few chapters. There is always guilt associated with not finishing a book, especially one that I’ve borrowed from a friend who gave the book a positive review to intrigue me in the first place.
I got to chapter two and was hit with the uncomfortable realization that something Hollis wrote about applied to my life in many instances and angles. Hollis reminded me that I need to keep the promises that I make to myself. Resonation struck because at the time of reading those words, I had been struggling to motivate myself to workout. It was always on my day’s to-do list, but I easily made excuses to skip a thirty minute circuit workout. I really set my heart on the word “promise” because keeping promises says something about your character, and while I always tried to make and keep promises to others with care, I was forgetting to show that same care and respect to myself. The self-reflection, and the motivation for exercise, this chapter ignited in me set me off to find more nuggets in Girl, Wash Your Face.
I have a running list of my favorite take-aways from this book in my journal. By the very end of the book, I did appreciate the honesty that Hollis promised from the beginning. I was also surprised that her advice throughout the book worked its magic to influence my thoughts on Hollis herself. My preconceived judgements of her book because she made a career out of lifestyle blogging were slowly burned away. I need to push myself to seek more in people rather than accepting only the exterior and whatever assumptions I’ve attached to it. I also learned in the Introduction that Hollis is devoutly faithful to Christianity, another immediate turn off for me. I instantly distrust or discredit people who are extremely religious. It is unfair, but it is something I have let myself fall into. As Hollis referenced and mentioned God and her relationship with God and how her faith played into her experiences, I would mentally cringe. However, by the end of the book, I took each mention for face value because Hollis never once wrote about her faith with language that tried to persuade the reader into believing, or with unbound reverence. She stated it matter-of-factly, and I came to learn that it was just her truth, it was her being completely honest while telling her story. I could accept that. Any and all distrust evaporated by the time I reached the back cover. I was impressed, enough so to feel compelled to write this review. I was also surprised, but maybe I shouldn’t have been…?
The structure of chapters and points was well done. Each focused on a lie that Hollis had to overcome. These lies are laid out in general terms to leave room for readers to relate (i.e. The Lie: I’ll Start Tomorrow), and Hollis explains how she learned that this was a lie she was told and how she eventually came to the truth of the matter. The book is held up with lots of positivity and some fluff, but the honest storytelling can make up for all that. Besides, any self-help book’s goal is to help you feel pumped up to achieve your goals or believe in yourself. At ever chapter’s end, Hollis provides three things she did that truly helped her get past that chapter’s lie. Some of these were nice to know, some were probably helpful to other women, but none of my nuggets-worthy-of-my-journal were in these final tips. Thus, it’s worth combing through the meat of the chapters and reading this book to see what you can take away.
snowhiteice 