Honestly, Really Good, Actually by Monica Heisey is one of the most psychologically reliable — and at the same time, annoying — novels I’ve read in years. It feels reliable because, even though it’s a comedy, the way the main protagonist, Maggie, deals with her breakup reminded me of dozens of real young people who have gone through divorce.
It’s annoying because, as a millennial, I’m a little tired of how millennial characters are often portrayed as “struggling to be adults” and only discovering who they really are in their late twenties — despite the fact that this is, again, a common situation for our generation. I’m just tired of being treated a little like a child, including in how bisexuality is presented. In the novel, the main character is Maggie, a twenty-nine-year-old progressive woman who is uncertain whether she “counts” as bi because she has never been in a serious relationship with a woman. Well, I was never very deep into social justice issues as a teen, living in Ukraine — a much less LGBT friendly country than Canada — and even I could understand it when I was half her age.
Maggie also behaves as if her relationships somehow define her adulthood, instead of simply trying to be herself. It’s no wonder the divorce almost breaks her, despite the fact that Maggie and her ex, Jon, didn’t have much in common, ultimately Jon was the only important person in her life. It’s almost like she just needs him because she has no idea how to live without him supporting her own adulthood. On the other hand, it’s interesting that Maggie doesn’t feel she would be rejected by her family for being bi, but does feel she needs to get married in order to be treated as an adult.
That said, Maggie is by no means a bad character. She’s brilliant because she feels real — in a way that feels reliable to many readers, but not quite to me. I would love to see more independent-minded millennials in fiction, characters who define adulthood on their own terms rather than through relationships.
At the same time, it’s noteworthy that, despite being bi and modern, Maggie still values a classical family model with a man. This tension makes her character more multidimensional — she is navigating her own desires and identity while also balancing the expectations of her progressive friends and the older, stronger societal expectations of adulthood and family. Her bi identity feels natural, yet at the same time, it is part of her leftist cultural worldview, which is also interesting.
It is also interesting how the Really Good, Actually became a bestseller and a widely discussed novel about divorce, despite featuring a bi protagonist whose bisexuality is not treated as something “special” or sensationalized. This shows that bi people are increasingly accepted in society and that their stories can be told as part of everyday life stories, not just queer fiction.
Ultimately, the novel is funny, emotional, and psychologically honest. I’ve met people like Maggie — she is the bi “girl next door.” If you are a Gen Z or millennial woman who recently went through a breakup, is thinking about therapy, and enjoys funny queer stories, this novel is definitely for you. And if you are a queer person who likes seeing bi characters included as “normal” people in modern fiction — not just in “queer-centered stories,” but where queerness still plays an important role — you will love it even more. Maggie may not be the most reliable character for me, but her story is definitely actually really good.