Well, I have to be honest. I did not like this book. And, I hasten to say, it had nothing to do with Henderson's story, or with her writing. It was the co-authorship that troubled me, from both a content and process point of view. I found the italicized comments from Emerton, the therapist, intrusive, irritating, even somewhat patronizing. Henderson herself is quite insightful, and Emerton rarely added anything to the story. And she (Emerton) completely lost my faith in her psychological acumen when she conflated the subconscious and the unconscious, egregiously backing up this error by citing Carl Jung, who wrote so extensively on the collective unconscious and who must be rolling in his grave to hear he referred to the subconscious as the unconscious (p. 94). I wish Henderson had been able to trust her own wisdom enough to let the book stand on its own, with just her words. That's my content comment. As for the process, despite the italicized discussion of the professional issues involved in a therapist collaborating with a former patient, I found the relationship unsettling. Four stars for Henderson; half or one star for Emerton.