Totally and Completely Fine: A Deep Dive into Grief and Moving Forward
I first picked up Totally and Completely Fine by Cassandra W. Lee after being drawn in by its cover—there’s something about vibrant colors and evocative imagery that never fails to capture my attention. Plus, the premise promised a deep exploration of love, loss, and personal growth, themes that always resonate with me. Little did I know that this book would evoke such a mixed bag of feelings.
At its core, Totally and Completely Fine navigates the murky waters of grief, particularly through the lens of Lauren, our protagonist, who is grappling with the death of her husband. Lee involves readers in Lauren’s journey, poignantly illustrating the complexity of grief; it’s the kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. The depth of emotion is palpable, suggesting that the author has drawn from personal experience, which added a layer of authenticity that I genuinely appreciated.
However, while the exploration of grief was compelling, my initial excitement gradually waned as I delved deeper into the plot. Yes, Lauren moves forward from her husband’s death; yes, she eventually confronts the silence that has ensnared her family for years. Yet, I found myself frustrated by her indecisiveness, particularly regarding her daughter. I mean, three years is a long time to ignore a problem, especially between a mother and her child. This lack of communication felt unrealistic and, frankly, painful to witness. I wanted Lauren to step up, to break the cycle, rather than waiting until it became explosive.
The romantic subplot felt equally predictable; while Lauren’s relationship with Spencer held potential, it lacked the chemistry that would make a love story truly sing. In contrast, her connection with Ben—the book’s “bisexual beacon,” as it were—seemed more rooted in physical attraction than genuine emotional connection. It felt like the book was attempting to hit the “modern romance” checklist but missed the crucial element of real love. As a reader, I sensed that what I was witnessing was lust masquerading as love, which left me feeling somewhat cheated.
Lee’s narrative style has its merits, with short chapters and insightful flashbacks that created a brisk pacing. However, the repetition of key points often felt overwhelming. Yes, Lauren is a widow. We get it. Yes, Ben is bisexual—his attractiveness is acknowledged time and again, but the constant reiteration dulled the excitement rather than amplifying it.
That said, Totally and Completely Fine does offer moments of brilliance that raised my spirits. The book’s exploration of the multifaceted nature of love and the courage it takes to rebuild is a beautiful message worth sharing. However, I couldn’t help but feel that it fell short of its emotional potential.
In the end, I’d rate this book 2.5 stars—I appreciated its look at grief, but my frustration with the characters overshadowed my enjoyment. If you’re someone who enjoys narratives about healing, family dynamics, and modern relationships with some charming moments—this might still be worth a read. However, if you’re looking for a deep, intense romance, you might want to look elsewhere. For me, the experience was a reminder of how complex love and loss can be, even when the narrative doesn’t fully deliver.
Happy reading!
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