Editorial Review

Independence Ave: How Individualism Killed Me and Community Brought Me Back

By Lauren Canaday
Genre: Memoir
Reviewed by Lauren Hayataka

Numbers and dreams collide in a captivating memoir—where safety is found in vulnerability.

Lauren Canaday's Independence Ave takes inspiration from the symbolic four-mile stretch in Washington D.C., connecting the Lincoln Memorial to the Anacostia River. This historic thoroughfare serves as the backdrop for Lauren's life, weaving a vivid tapestry that intertwines personal struggles, triumphs, and the profound impact of independence and communion within the fabric of American society.

The narrative begins with a gripping account of Canaday's near-death experience at 38, surviving cardiac arrest after an unheard-of 24 minutes without a pulse. Against all medical odds, she reflects on being "an epileptic with heart failure who narrowly avoided death one too many times to think it’s necessarily a blessing. And yet, I am still human, and humans defy all reason." From this pivotal moment, Canaday invites readers to her side as she reflects on the challenges of epilepsy, heart failure, and the heartbreaking aftermath of repeated assault by a trusted mentor.

Delving into her complex upbringing marked by moves around the country and divorced parents, Canaday reveals how these experiences shaped her perspectives on independence and connection. She metaphorically compares her childhood to being raised on an emotional and physical island, a sentiment shared by many Americans in today's dispersed and closed familial units, faced with overwhelming choices and opportunities and little guidance.

For Canaday, she first discovered a sense of security through her love for statistics, where she learned that by “...taking the right sample, (she) could gain clarity and a

solid foothold in an otherwise tumultuous world...” Numbers and statistics were safe, while dreams and emotions were not.

As an author, Canaday's greatest strength lies in her unflinching vulnerability with readers. She unabashedly recognizes and embraces her true self without any attempt to conceal it. Reading her memoir feels like an intimate journey through someone's diary, where every page offers a glimpse into her heart and soul.

A bittersweet example is when Canaday has achieved her dream look from childhood, boasting an incredible career hallmarked by designer clothing, charisma, and a capability to exceed at anything she wishes—including dating, which she made a sport of. However, she didn't have a single person that she felt she could list as an emergency contact on her phone. As a result, her memoir is far more than "just" a story about someone grappling with chronic illness; instead, Canaday offers an inspiring exploration of self-understanding stating, "This story isn't about medicine; it's about understanding and healing the parts of myself that modern medicine doesn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole."

This authenticity and vulnerability consistently thread through every page of Canaday's memoir. Her inviting writing style retains sharpness, conveying profound sentiments in just one or two sentences, whereas others might require multiple paragraphs. Canaday adeptly connects the central themes of independence and communion within an American context. She points out that Americans are ingrained with a belief in individualism, often at the cost of their physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. In a world abundant with choices, American society encourages the idea that individuals can achieve anything if dedicated. However, as Canaday notes, this pursuit comes at an unacknowledged cost, stating, "Stability and safety rarely, if ever, exist. We just have systems that support the myth, and that make it your fault if you can’t find them."

Within Canaday’s life, she showcases the effect that the American belief in the individual had on her. She poured everything that she had into her career. The result? She became incredibly successful within the cosmetic industry as a salon owner and consultant, but she had nothing of herself left. She was dying without ever living, although by all accounts, she had it all. Unlike other memoirs, Canaday didn’t start from the bottom and build herself up. Instead, she started from the middle and reached the top—only to find that it wasn’t the top at all.

Canaday's memoir is a source of unconventional comfort, deriving its strength from her unvarnished honesty and the authentic examples she draws from her own life. In a departure from cliché sayings and overly praising resilience, she weaves a narrative that lays bare her journey—a journey defined by the profound love she discovered from her husband, Chris, the playful companionship of her service dog, Nosie, and within herself. As Canaday notes, "I spent my whole life seeking the perfect housing and community for a kernel of truth I knew existed but did not quite feel qualified to approach or to hold. Now, I’m embracing the kernel wherever and whenever I find it, in all its many forms."