Untamed

Part 3 commences with Doyle’s life at thirteen years old as she battles bulimia. Doyle details fighting the Ache, which, by the age of ten, “has become my constant interrupter” (82). The Ache creeps up on Doyle and fills her with thoughts of death and depression. She discovers bingeing and purging at age ten and uses bulimia to keep her “busy, distant, distracted” (83). While relying on her bulimia in private to quiet the Ache, Doyle begins to rely on alcohol in public. By the time she is twenty-five, Doyle is distanced from her family, coughing up blood, and has been arrested multiple times. Soon, she finds out she is pregnant and feels “a deep desire to grow and birth and raise a person” (84). This desire overrides the Ache and Doyle decides “to get sober and reenter the land of the living” (84). As Doyle struggles with withdrawal and morning sickness, she teaches third grade and finds herself repeatedly passing by a friend’s classroom and reading a sign “which says in big black block letters: WE CAN DO HARD THINGS” (85). This message becomes her new mantra.

Ten years later, Doyle is now a successful writer with three children and a husband. She receives a phone call from her sister who is going into labor and asks her to fly to Virginia. As she is packing, Doyle receives another call from her mother who informs her of her grandmother’s impending death and asks her to come say goodbye in Ohio. Doyle travels to Ohio and says goodbye to her grandmother. Overcome with the Ache, Doyle feels connected to humanity at large as “somehow I am here with everyone who has ever lived and ever loved and ever lost” (88). Doyle finds peace in this moment and realizes that “the Ache is not a flaw. The Ache is our meeting place” (88). Doyle leaves for Virginia and visits her sister who has just given birth to a daughter whom she names after their grandmother, Alice Flaherty.

Doyle discusses her belief in the “perfect human woman” who “woke up beautiful, unbloated, clear skinned, fluffy haired, fearless, lucky in love, calm, and confident” (91). She refers to these women as ghosts and is haunted by them in her twenties. Despite embracing her flaws in her thirties, Doyle admits that she still believes in these ghosts and is not completely free. It is only until Doyle realizes that the ideal human does not exist that Doyle releases herself from the pressure to be perfect.

Doyle travels to Paris with her parents and sister and is charmed by its history. She notes how Paris, unlike America, is “surrounded by ruins of ancient baths, guillotines, and churches more than a thousand years old, [and] humanity’s mistakes and beauty are unfurled like a mural” (95). Doyle visits the Louvre and sees the famous Leonardo da Vinci painting Mona Lisa. A woman approaches Doyle and tells her a theory of Mona Lisa’s enigmatic smile being a mixture of joy and grief for the birth of a new child and the loss of another. Doyle is struck by the beauty of this duality. Doyle lists all the ways she transformed after becoming pregnant with her first child. She became a good wife, mother, Christian, and woman who adhered to society’s expectations. Despite all these changes, through her husband’s infidelity, which she calls “a jagged gift,” Doyle discovered that being good was not enough.

Doyle remarks on the differences between her two daughters, which is marked by her differing approaches to parenting with each. More laidback in her parenting, she describes her youngest Amma as “independent” and “on her own” (103). She recounts the story of taking her daughters to get their ears pierced at the mall. Amma runs excitedly to the piercing kiosk and gets both ears pierced simultaneously with no hesitation or fear. Her older daughter Tish changes her mind and decides not to get her ears pierced. The piercer attempts to convince Tish by encouraging her to “be brave” (104). Doyle contemplates this definition of bravery and questions whether that is the bravery she wishes her children to demonstrate. Doyle defines brave as “turning inward, feeling for the Knowing, and speaking it out loud” (105). Due to its personal and changing nature, bravery cannot be judged, and Doyle honors the differing definitions of bravery exhibited in each of her daughters.

Doyle details her first time meeting the writer Elizabeth Gilbert at an airport. The women exchange pleasantries as they wait to be picked up. There is an immediate connection between them, but Doyle fears her inability to be a good friend as she has disappointed friends in the past. Liz sends an email to Doyle a few weeks later and asks to be friends without expectations. They become friends and Doyle invites Liz to visit her in Naples, Florida where she lives. Doyle confesses to Liz her feelings for Abby and how they have fallen deeper in love through email communication over the past few weeks. Liz encourages Doyle to follow her truth despite all her fears that she will ruin her husband, children, parents, and career by pursuing a relationship with Abby. Doyle explores the question of why women deny their longing and dismiss themselves. To Doyle, this occurs because “our culture was built upon and benefits from the control of women” (114). She details the ways in which society convinces women not to trust their personalities, instincts, curiosity, hunger, or even their memories or experiences. Doyle believes that, according to society, “the epitome of womanhood is to lose one’s self completely” (116). Doyle logs the ways in which she has worked to defy this control. She no longer injects her face with poison, straightens her hair, binges and purges, or numbs herself with alcohol and food. Doyle instead chooses to trust and love herself.

Doyle clarifies the difference between a surface desire and a deep desire by stating that “a surface desire is one that conflicts with our Knowing” while “our deep desires are wise, true, beautiful, and things we can grant ourselves without abandoning our Knowing” (120). Doyle lists the common desires women share with her, which include a need for rest, peace, intimacy, honesty, confidence, love, joy, and connection. Doyle believes in the power of women to change the world.  

As she attempts to decide whether to leave her marriage, Doyle calls her friend Martha out of frustration and Martha encourages Doyle to “‘try dropping into your body’” (123). Doyle reflects on how this reminder to look inside herself for answers has carried over even into her business meetings where she calls upon her colleagues to check in with themselves for guidance first because, Doyle states, “I trust women who trust themselves” (124). Doyle recalls her avoidance of her inner “Knowing” as she refused to leave her unhappy marriage for the sake of her children. One night, as she does her daughter’s hair, she contemplates her decision to stay and asks herself, “But would I want this marriage for my little girl?” (126). This thought leads Doyle to reconsider the ways in which she, and mothers in general, “have martyred themselves in their children’s names since the beginning of time” (128). She considers the consequences of this martyrdom, which include perpetuating a cycle of self-denial unto daughters who learn from their mothers’ examples. Doyle comes to conclusion that “the call of motherhood is not to be a martyr but to be a model” and decides to divorce her husband (128). She calls Abby to confess her love for her and tell her that she’s decided to leave her marriage. Doyle then informs her husband Craig of her decision to leave and he responds with grace. Within two weeks, Doyle breaks the news to her children, her family, and her friends and begins a new chapter in her life.

Doyle discusses one of her favorite words, selah, which appears “in the Hebrew Bible seventy-four times” and serves as “a direction to the reader to stop reading and be still for a moment, because the previous idea is important enough to consider deeply” (136). Doyle flashes back to her second pregnancy and when she discovered that she was having her first daughter. Unlike her son, her daughter Tish is more difficult to parent as she “was born concerned…cried constantly…her default was set at displeased” (138). Doyle sees herself in Tish and recognizes similar patterns in their behavior. This leads Doyle to shift her parenting to “quit trying to make Tish happy or pleasant” and “just to help her be Tish” (139). Doyle describes Tish as “our selah” (139). This quality within Tish manifests in the wake of Doyle’s divorce as her daughter struggles to move past it. Doyle thinks about the protective ways she has raised Tish and her transition to no longer shielding her from the harsh realities of life. Three years after the divorce, “Tish is no longer in hiding, on constant lookout for danger up ahead” and, through Doyle’s commitment to herself, has learned resilience (141).

Doyle describes the remedy for no longer feeling lost as a “Touch Tree,” or “home base” (145). Thinking back on her own moments of feeling lost throughout her life, Doyle “can trace my lostness back to a decision to make something outside myself my Touch Tree” (145). No longer reliant on outside forces, Doyle declares, “I am my own tree. So I return to myself and reinhabit myself” (145). She explores the ways to honor her needs and her children’s needs in the tumultuous aftermath of the divorce. Doyle returns to the idea of memos received by society with instructions for how to live. She discusses the memos her generation received on parenting and the effect of this hyperactive parenting in creating “a more overparented and underprotected generation” (155).

Doyle further dissects the unique struggle of parenting in today’s world. She describes her son’s addiction to his cell phone and her frank discussion with him regarding her internal conflict over whether to take his phone from him. Doyle conveys the power of this discussion being rooted in trusting her instincts as a parent. Continuing this discussion of her growth as a parent, Doyle recalls her immediate dedication to raising her daughters as feminists and instilling within them a sense of strength and empowerment. She recollects her awakening to the particular struggles of boys attempting to navigate society’s pressures, which “train[s] boys to believe that the way to become a man is to objectify and conquer women, value wealth and power above all, and suppress any emotions other than competitiveness and rage” (164). Doyle explores the arbitrary ways in which certain actions and behaviors are ascribed to genders in society to ensure that “the status quo keeps its power” (165). Doyle reflects on the ways she has failed to counteract these messages from society within her son, and on the lessons she has learned while parenting her son and older daughter as they navigate the world. Doyle recounts her belief in the necessity of being “brave enough to trek into the woods and ask tough questions with them” (177).

One day, Doyle reads a story about the separation of children from their asylum-seeking parents at the southern border of the United States. Instantly filled with despair over the injustice at the border, Doyle jumps into action by gathering the Together Rising team. Doyle shares how “Together Rising has ushered more than $20 million over that bridge from heartbreak to action” (183). Within a few weeks, Doyle and the Together Rising team raise $4.6 million for the border crisis. After highlighting one parent’s criticism of her philanthropy, Doyle reiterates the power of imagining one’s self in another’s shoes as “the shortest distance between two people, two cultures, two ideologies, two experiences” (186). She instills this imaginative empathy within her own children as she teaches her youngest daughter “how to use her imagination to bridge the gap between her experience and the experience of another” (187).

Doyle examines the criticisms she has received by including a letter from a reader seeking advice regarding her daughter’s coming out and the disapproval of her grandparents. In response, Doyle recounts the moments after her own coming out and Abby’s explanation of their love as an island isolated from the criticism of those outside of their island. Doyle recalls the difficulty in maintaining this separation when her own mother reacted in fear and “started to pull me away from my Knowing” (191). After receiving some guidance from her sister, Doyle decides “to trust myself – even though that meant moving in direct opposition to my parents. I decided to please myself instead of my parents” (191). Doyle credits this decision as what ushers her into full adulthood.

Doyle answers another letter from a reader, a new mom who was never loved well by her own mother and wonders how she will know how to love her own child. Doyle creates a metaphor of love as a river with “boulders that interrupt love’s flow” (195). She describes her own boulders of addiction that kept her being able to love her family well. She ends her response by reassuring this new mother that, “You do not get your capacity for love from your parents. They are not your source…You are your own source” (197).

Doyle returns to the transition period between announcing her divorce and not yet coming out. She struggles with hiding her new relationship. Due to her commitment to her sobriety and to “living in integrity,” Doyle sees coming out as her only clear choice (199). Despite her fears of criticism, Doyle expresses her desire not to live a tamed life of regret with “the pain of a woman who has slowly abandoned herself” (201). Doyle implores her readers to “do what the fuck you want with your own singular precious life” (201). She details the moment she posted the blog post announcing her relationship with Abby and how she “was careful not to apologize or explain or justify” (202). She finds support and acceptance from the community she has built.

Doyle tells the story of her father’s inability to admit his unintentional contribution to her bulimia at age eleven. Years later, on the night of Donald Trump’s election as the President of the United States, Doyle wonders to a friend if “‘we can begin the long, hard work of making amends’” and healing as a nation (206). After sitting down with her daughters and discussing the rampant racism within the United States, Doyle recognizes her own privilege as a white woman and her complacency in not speaking up for justice. Doyle commits herself to surrounding herself with the words and works of people of color. Through this process, Doyle “began to widen” as she “was unlearning the whitewashed version of American history I’d been indoctrinated into believing” (209). Doyle sees connections between these experiences of unlearning and her journey towards sobriety as “I felt like I did when I first quit drinking: increasingly uncomfortable as the truth agitated my comfortable numbness” (210). Soon, Doyle begins sharing what she has learned and is asked to plan a “webinar for other white women with the intention of calling them into the work of racial justice” (210).

The morning after announcing the seminar, Doyle wakes up to thousands of comments criticizing her leadership position in a discussion about race and calling her a racist. Doyle reflects on her own internalized misogyny despite her self-proclaimed identity as a feminist. Doyle points out that “No one is terrified to admit she has internalized misogyny, because there is no morality attached to the admission” (217). Doyle remarks on how racism is not treated similarly and how “we are not going to get the racism out of us until we start thinking about racism like we think about misogyny” (217). After admitting her own complicity in the perpetuation of racism, Doyle expresses a dedication “to turn myself inside out to help clear our air” (220).

Doyle recounts a recent town hall event she attended in the Midwest. A woman in the audience asks her, “‘Why is everybody so gay all of a sudden?’” (222). Doyle elaborates on the pressure placed on people to choose a sexuality, which leads some to live “lives of quiet desperation, slowly suffocating as they held their breath to fit inside” (223). Doyle remarks on the freedom experienced when breaking away from the binary of sexuality and allowing others to be themselves. Doyle contemplates her own sexuality and the comfort and empowerment she feels in being herself. She devotes a section to Abby and addresses her directly. In this section, she describes Abby’s discomfort with church and religion because “when I was little, I knew I was gay. I had to choose church, my mom, and God. Or myself. I chose myself” (235). Doyle comforts Abby and explains to her that, “‘When you shut down your heart to that church, you did it to protect God in you’” (236). Abby is touched by this message.

Doyle discusses her own introduction to Christianity as a young, overwhelmed mother. The first sermon Doyle hears at a new church is one on the sins of homosexuality and abortion. Doyle confronts the pastor who tells her to lean on faith rather than her heart. Doyle begins to do her own research on the church’s views towards abortion. She relays how it was not until the 1970s that Christians, “worried about losing their right to continue racially segregating their private Christian schools and maintain their tax-exempt status,” chose the issue of abortion to “unite and politically activate their evangelical followers for the first time” (241). The passage of Roe v. Wade six years prior did not worry Christians who, at that time, believed “that life began with the baby’s first breath, at birth” (241). Doyle explains the emergence of the white evangelical vote as the “most powerful and influential voting bloc in the United States and the fuel of the American white supremacy engine” as a result of a memo sent out by white evangelical men (242). Doyle shares that she is unsure of her identity as a Christian currently and her rebellious decision to refer to God as a female. Doyle tells the origin story of Together Rising as arising from the many letters she would receive and the desire to bridge the divide between those with enough to give and those in need of more. Doyle describes her transition from philanthropist to activist as she became increasing aware of those who profit from the suffering of others.

Using the five stages of grief, Doyle delves into her own experiences with grief. She describes the denial she felt regarding her addiction and her decision to begin “allowing my feelings to disturb me” rather than turning to finding ways to numb herself (260). In the wake of her ex-husband’s infidelity, Doyle felt overcome with anger, despite her then-husband’s remorse. One she realized that her anger affected only her and not her husband, she learned to sit with her anger and learn from it. Doyle forgives her husband after they divorce as she finally became “a woman who refuses to abandon herself to keep false peace’ (263). Doyle elaborates on how anger teaches her to search inside herself for deep-rooted beliefs in need of transformation. Doyle contemplates the examples of her sister who grieved the dissolution of her first marriage and of her friend Liz who grieved the loss of her partner. Through these examples, Doyle reflects on the power of grief to transform.

Doyle delves into her own experiences with anxiety and depression and how she used food, alcohol, and drugs to distract herself. While Doyle describes how “depression takes all my vibrant colors and bashes them together until I am gray, gray, gray,” she explains her anxiety as “feeling terrified about my lack of control over anything” (274). Doyle lists her “five pro tips for those who live too high and too low,” which includes her calls for people to take their medication, to take notes on how one feels in both low and high moments, to know one’s good and bad habits, and to remember that those with mental illness are unique and powerful (275). Doyle documents her own choice to choose joy at the age of forty by pursuing a relationship with Abby. She notes how much happier she has become in the process, and how “the happier I become, the happier my children seem to become” (283). Despite this increased happiness, Doyle observes how her readers find it more difficult to relate to her. Doyle unpacks her own discomfort as she processes her own negative feelings towards confident women and determines that, “I have been conditioned to mistrust and dislike strong, confident, happy girls and women. We all have” (285). Doyle expands on how this conditioning leads women to “downplay our strengths to avoid threatening anyone and invoking disdain” (285). In conclusion, Doyle commits herself to “forgive myself for my first reaction because it’s not my fault, it’s just my conditioning” (286).

Doyle reflects on her daughter’s need for confidence at the age of ten. After noticing Tish begin to “retreat into food for comfort and spend more and more time alone in her room,” Doyle reluctantly agrees with Abby’s suggestion that Tish try out for an elite travel soccer team (288). Abby and Doyle’s ex-husband Craig spend four weeks training with Tish in preparation for the tryouts. Despite Doyle’s doubts and fears, Tish makes the team. Doyle flashes forward a few years and reflects on how Tish has grown as an athlete and leader.

Doyle returns to the early days of her and Abby’s relationship, which were filled with idealistic romance. Doyle compares these early days to her experiences with hallucinogenic mushrooms in college where she felt disconnected from reality. Now, a few years in the future, Doyle reflects on how she and Abby have gained some separation as people while still maintaining a deep love and affection for one another. When Abby joins an ice hockey team for fun, Doyle examines her own lack of a recreational hobby. She searches out guitar lessons with dreams of tapping into her inner rock star. Doyle realizes that, “The more often I do things I want to do, the less bitter I am at people for doing what they want to do” (307-308).

Doyle chronicles the first time she meets her ex-husband’s new girlfriend and her struggle to accept the shifting dynamics in their blended family. She also investigates her need for control and its effect on her marriage to Abby. During her first year of marriage, she tries not to take control and lets Abby take the lead. Despite her expectations of failure, Doyle finds that she began to feel happier and her children “become braver, kinder, more relaxed” (316). She explains how she has learned through this process that love is “respecting what your people feel, trusting that they know, and believing that they have their unseen order for their lives pressing through their own skin” (316).

One night after having dinner with Abby, her sister, and her sister’s husband, Doyle shares with Craig a memory of when she first told him she was pregnant eighteen years earlier. At the time, Craig suggested that they raise their son separately. Doyle apologizes for not listening to their instincts, which told them that they were not compatible. Abby and Craig now play on the same adult league soccer team. Doyle reflects on their unconventional family structure, which allows each member to be “both held and free” (321). Doyle ends this section with a rumination on how she has changed and how she will continue to dedicate herself to these changes in the future. She devotes herself never again to stay “in a room or conversation or relationship or institution that requires me to abandon myself” (324).