A heartfelt look at what it takes to confront the past and define the future.
A parent’s care for a child should be instinctual, a natural extension of their love, and that love is usually reciprocated through the child’s trust and dependence. But what happens when parental love is tainted, twisted, or cruel? What remains when every fond memory is tempered with darkness, or when basking in attention comes with a price? Andrea Leeb’s gut-wrenching memoir, Such a Pretty Picture, examines a life shaped by sexual molestation, emotional manipulation, and insidious gaslighting. Perpetrated by her father, the first account of abuse occurs at the tender age of four. In a dramatic display, her mother walks in on the ordeal and falls into temporary physical blindness, though her willful blindness to the suffering of her children lingers. Not wanting to disrupt the illusion of peace in the family, young Andrea keeps her father’s damning secret from everyone, even those in a position to help. Grasping at whatever affection is left from her parents, Andrea recklessly bears the guilt from her father’s actions. As if surviving sexual assault weren’t enough for one soul, the author is repeatedly uprooted from friends and home, forced to witness her younger sister’s mistreatment in silence, burdened throughout her teen years by an undeserved reputation, and stripped of her autonomy. As time moves on, the memories rage less, but despair, self-loathing, and fear persist. Relationships are strained, and inner peace eludes her, but with effort, Andrea learns that forgiveness is something we do for ourselves more than for others.
“I thought about my father. If anything happened, I knew he’d rescue me. No one was allowed to hurt his daughters. Except him.” Tortured and conflicted, Andrea Leeb’s vulnerability is outmatched only by her honesty. Her compelling voice will draw readers into a story that is hard to read, but impossible to forget. A life-threatening illness and accompanying hospital stay reveal the compassionate side of an abusive father, with flashes of him in prayer and wracked with grief. Her mother, on the other hand, fixates on inconsequential details to avoid the pain. Such raw scenes allow audiences to truly feel the emotional dissonance as inconsistent displays of tenderness funnel down through the sandy soil of abuse. What grows from this fractured foundation is marked by unhealthy behaviors and toxic relationships. In time, however, it blossoms into something rooted in survival and adorned with strength, confidence, and compassion. If you’ve ever wanted to become more than the product of your childhood, Andrea Leeb’s moving account is the reassurance you need. Years of abuse can’t quickly be overwritten, but Such a Pretty Picture is a heartfelt look at what it takes to confront the past and define the future.
