Such a Pretty Picture by Andrea Leeb: A Brutally Honest Memoir of Abuse, Denial, and Healing

At four and a half years old, Andrea’s mother goes blind after stumbling upon an inappropriate bath-time scene between her eldest daughter and beloved husband.

A story is spun on top of the truth. One where the bout of blindness was brought about by her husband’s callous use of frigid bathwater, not the incestuous act she bore witness to. This would be the first story, the first excuse, the first violation of many.

The duty to protect her mother from it all would fall on Andrea’s shoulders. To ensure her mother’s good health, her younger sister’s happiness, to keep her family together in spite of her father’s growing list of moral and career failures, which threaten to ruin everything.

Decades later, far removed from the events that troubled her well into early adulthood, something minor in comparison to the trauma she once endured throws the successful life Andrea has meticulously constructed around her into complete disarray. She must properly confront her past in order to heal and move forward, or risk destroying herself and everything she has worked so hard for.

Spoiler-Free Plot

Andrea doesn’t know why the way her daddy touched her was wrong, or how to explain what had happened to someone else—only that it was. At such a young age, all she understands is the uneasy feeling in her belly at the thought of it, and what her father told her: that it was her fault her mother went blind, and if she didn’t do as she was told, it would happen again.

As she grows older, the abuse from her father continues. There is no more need for threats; she has been completely convinced of her own helplessness, her lack of credibility when measured against her smooth-talking father’s perceived earnestness. Her mother emphasises her husband’s love for their two daughters so frequently that it becomes the truth she chooses to hold fast to; throughout the alcohol fueled storms, torrid affairs and damaging secrets. The darkest of which took place, and continued to take place under her own roof. Evidence provided along the way became inconvenient barriers standing between herself and the illusion of normalcy, barriers in need of complete erasure.

Shame clouded Andrea’s judgement, leaving her vulnerable to predators beyond her household. That sickly, all-consuming feeling inside, compounded with each offence committed against her, burgeoned into a crippling paralysis barely hidden beneath the surface of her pristine life. An unsolicited touch catalyses the beginning of her unravelling. Whether the ending brings her healing or ruin becomes the ultimate decision of self-determination.

My Take on Such a Pretty Picture

It is important to me to start out by commending the clarity and candour lining every page in this book. I cannot begin to fathom the amount of bravery it must’ve taken to—figuratively or literally—put pen to paper, write the first few words, and continue documenting the worst parts of one’s life as viscerally as Andrea Leeb managed to do in this novel.

My heart stopped beating, fluttered with hope, shattered, raged and finally found a still calm as the chapters flew by. Astoundingly, beauty can also be found in coexistence alongside the trauma, especially intertwined in the moments divulging parts of her Jewish-American culture, fond familial experiences, the excitement of growing up basking in the aura of the 60s, spilling over into the 70s.

The moments of reprieve bear their own importance, too. It brings Andrea’s story a lot closer to home, reaffirming the fact that abuse can happen to anyone without there being any conspicuous indications of what might be going on behind closed doors.

The high points also shed a light on the internal struggle those who haven’t experienced similar types of abuse would not immediately be attuned to, and might have a difficult time understanding, inducing an ignorance-fueled frustration. Andrea herself questions why she was unable to expose her father whenever the opportunity arose, or create the opportunity herself. The answer to which is split into three parts: because of her desperation to be loved by her mother who would’ve never forgiven her daughter for taking away her favourite person from her, her belief that she lived a good life surrounded by things and opportunities many lacked that would potentially cease to exist if her father’s income dried up which a conviction or public condemnation would certainly lead to, and the effectiveness of her father’s convincing manipulation which she was especially susceptible to during the very impressionable stage in her life when it began.

Ultimately, the choice of how, when, where and to whom a victim shares their story is not for anyone else to question. It is a kernel of control wrangled away from the perpetrators’ hands by survivors who get to choose what to do with it.

Every new piece of material detailing the thoughts, emotions and actions of survivors of abuse is a resource. Just like this novel, they carry evidence of the non-linear nature of trauma. There isn’t a template for overcoming the mental or physical damage imparted through any kind of mistreatment, which is a valuable lesson delivered by Andrea’s story.

Such a Pretty Picture is a raw and fearless memoir that exposes hidden abuse and the cost of silence. Painful, brave, and unforgettable.

Age Rating

16 years and above

Content Warnings

Alcoholism, child sexual abuse, domestic violence, foul language, rape.

---