Book Review: My Year of Really Bad Dates: A Memoir by Rachel Lithgow

Dating disasters are practically a rite of passage, but Rachel Lithgow takes them to an art form in My Year of Really Bad Dates: A Memoir. This isn’t just another collection of awkward encounters—it’s a smart, funny, and surprisingly heartfelt look at modern romance in all its chaotic glory. Lithgow’s wit, warmth, and honesty make you feel like you’re sitting across from a close friend, swapping stories over coffee (or perhaps a much-needed cocktail). From ghosting and mismatched expectations to unexpected moments of connection, she transforms the cringe-worthy into the relatable, and the tragic into the hilarious.

The memoir follows Lithgow through a year-long experiment in putting herself back out there after heartbreak. Determined to see what the dating world has to offer, she dives into a mix of setups, apps, and serendipitous encounters that don’t always go as planned. Each chapter brings a new adventure—and often, a new reminder that romance can be equal parts hopeful and humiliating. But beneath the humor and misfires, Lithgow reflects deeply on self-worth, resilience, and the courage it takes to stay open to love even when it feels impossible. It’s both entertaining and quietly empowering, a reminder that even the worst dates can lead to the best kind of personal growth.

What makes Lithgow’s memoir stand out is her voice. It’s sharp without being cynical, vulnerable without tipping into melodrama. Her storytelling style is conversational and effortlessly engaging, peppered with self-deprecating humor and candid insights about what it means to look for love in the age of swipes and screens. You can’t help but root for her, even when she’s recounting a night gone terribly wrong or realizing mid-date that she’s better off single. Lithgow balances laughter and introspection so naturally that readers will find themselves both giggling and nodding in recognition.

At its heart, My Year of Really Bad Dates isn’t just about bad dates; it’s about the messy, beautiful process of rediscovering yourself after disappointment. Lithgow’s willingness to find meaning (and comedy) in her own romantic misadventures gives the book real heart. It’s a reminder that self-discovery doesn’t always happen in moments of triumph—it often happens somewhere between an awkward dinner and an unanswered text. Readers looking for a boost of humor, honesty, and hope will find all three here.

Rachel Lithgow’s memoir is a gem—a breezy, hilarious, and surprisingly moving account of what happens when we dare to seek connection, even when the odds (and algorithms) seem against us. It’s a love letter to perseverance and the power of laughter in the face of heartbreak. Whether you’re single, partnered, or somewhere in between, My Year of Really Bad Dates will leave you smiling, nodding, and maybe even feeling a little more hopeful about your own next chapter.

Leave a comment