Queenie

“‘Look—if you are sad, you have to try not to be. If I had let myself be sad when I got pregnant with Maggie at fourteen, then where would that have left me?’ All of my grandmother’s responses come with a Caribbean frame of reference that forces me to accept that my problems are trivial.”

Queenie has a difficult time taking her mental health issues and trauma seriously because of how her family raised her; this is evident in the first part of the book when Queenie refuses to open up to her loved ones about what she’s going through and rejects the concept of therapy. A large part of Queenie’s journey towards reaching out for help was breaking through her family’s “Caribbean frame of reference” and making them accept that getting help isn’t a sign of weakness.

“‘It’s constant, with you. It’s too much,’ Tom said, his voice cracking. ‘You’re too much, Queenie.’ I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. ‘Hope you get home okay,’ he said, turning to walk away. ‘Do you know what?’ I shouted behind him. He stopped walking. ‘I hope your next girlfriend is white, Tom. That way she won’t be too f***ing much for you.’”

This conversation occurs in the context of Queenie leaving Tom’s mother’s birthday party because Tom’s uncle said a racial slur. Tom’s desire to break up with Queenie related to instances like this as well as Queenie’s inability to open up to him about her struggles. Overall, Tom takes no accountability for his family’s racism and refuses to see how Queenie’s upbringing and identities make it more difficult for her to be vulnerable.

“Even with his neuroses and his love of logic and his racist family, at least I knew where I was with him. At least he cared about me, and at least I didn’t have to delete all of this thinly veiled sexual harassment. What could I do to get Tom to love me again? Was time really all we needed? With a big, heavy groan, I got ready for bed. I had to go to the hospital in the morning to make sure everything had ‘passed smoothly.’ I wished I could tell someone about it; but, as with other parts of my life I’d rather bury, better to just keep it moving.”

After getting on OkCupid and seeing how awful the men treat her, Queenie would rather settle for Tom, who resembles a certain level of stability to her. However, instead of considering what would really make her happy or thinking about healing the harms of her relationship with Tom, Queenie hyper focuses on how to get Tom to love her again and thus bring her stability again. The narrative shows that Queenie is deeply affected by her miscarriage, because she continues to think about it, but she sticks to her pattern of keeping traumatic events to herself; this pattern is a safety mechanism to prevent people from getting too close to her so that if they leave her, it won’t hurt too badly.

“My head felt heavy and my stomach churned. I went to text Tom but stopped myself. If a clean break was what he needed to remind him that he loved me, it’s what I should give him.”

Queenie experiences more symptoms of anxiety as her break with Tom continues. While she wants to reach out for his comfort to help her feel better, she prioritizes his needs to try to gain back his love. This dynamic paints an unhealthy picture in which Queenie is sacrificing her desires and viewing Tom’s love as highly conditional.

“‘I’m not calling you racist, I’m saying that if the thinking is that someone should be killed for doing something wrong, that thinking is dangerous,’ I said. Why was I taking it out on her? ‘I’m going for a cigarette.’ I left the kitchen before I said something I’d regret. I knew Darcy hadn’t meant it, and she was only guilty of it this one time, but I wished that well-meaning white liberals would think before they said things that they thought were perfectly innocent.”

In Queenie’s close relationships with white people, like Tom or Darcy, she must explain certain things and protect certain beliefs, despite their being “good white people.” The way she censors her anger, which is justified, is evident in this quote. She questions herself for being upset with Darcy and removes herself from the situation so as not to become more upset, even though what Darcy said justifies Queenie’s emotions.

“I made no sound as he leaned down and bit my neck, then my shoulder, leaving what I knew would be deep, red impressions on my skin. I was in pain, but still I didn’t cry out, didn’t ask him to stop. I didn’t want him to. This is what you get when you push love away. This is what you’re left with, I thought.”

Queenie engages in increasingly dehumanizing and nonconsensual sex after her break with Tom. In all these scenes, Queenie finds ways to disassociate herself from the discomfort and pain. In this scene, the pain is too much to disassociate from, but Queenie bears it to punish herself for having lost Tom’s love. By engaging with fetishistic and mean men, she makes herself believe that Tom was the best she could ever get.

“‘Well, I have concerns about those injuries, Queenie. They are largely consistent with sexual violence.’ The nurse put the pamphlets on his desk, and although they were upside down, I read the words victim support… ‘I’m fine, really. Trust me, I would say.’ I looked the nurse in the eye very sincerely. ‘I don’t have an abusive boyfriend. I can’t even get anyone to take me on a date,’ I joked uncomfortably.”

Queenie downplays her injuries and pain, using humor, as she often does, to avoid opening herself up to hard emotions. Because at this point she still believes that she deserves the pain she’s experiencing, she doesn’t see herself as a “victim” or someone worthy of help.

“We went to slide our way inside and were stopped by a drunk girl with short pink hair who reached out and ran her hands through my twists as if they weren’t attached to my scalp. ‘OhmygodIlovethemsomuuuch!’ She gasped, mesmerized. ‘What the f*** do you think you’re doing?’ Kyazike said, grabbing the girl by the wrist and pushing her hand away […] ‘Don’t f***ing touch people like they’re your property!’ Kyazike shouted at the girl.”

As Kyazike and Queenie attempt to have a fun night, they encounter the reality of gentrification and then this interaction; they’re unable to have fun because of whiteness and white people. Unlike Queenie, however, Kyazike is unafraid of conflict and believes in herself enough to tell people off, which makes her a healthy and very necessary friend for Queenie. Throughout this book, white people interact inappropriately with Queenie’s hair, showing a lack of respect or understanding.

“I couldn’t even get my dad to text me back, let alone talk to him about my connections. Jealousy began to rise in me. Why didn’t I matter to any of the men who had run out of my life the first chance they could get? What made Cassandra so special that her dad, unlike mine, had an actual interest in her life? Walking down Seven Sisters Road to the Tube station, in a move that wouldn’t be worth Freud’s time to dissect, I called Guy.”

As this quote reveals, the ways that Queenie interacts with the world always trace back to how her parents raised (and neglected) her. Queenie’s father leaving her created a core belief within her that men would never love her and would always abandon her, so every time a man does leave her, it reinforces that untrue belief. By interacting with cruel men, like Guy, Queenie won’t become attached to men and thus won’t feel pain when they leave.

“‘She’s not that tough, Maggie. And I appreciate you looking after her when I couldn’t, really I do, but she’s my daughter, not yours.’ My mum was crying gently. ‘And I know her! She’s good at pretending. But I’ve let her down, I should have been better to her, that way she might have been better to herself.’”

Despite the time, space, and difficult emotions between Queenie and her mother, Sylvie clearly understands her well and cares about her deeply. Sylvie sees how the way that she treated (and neglected) her daughter directly informs how Queenie treats (and neglects) herself, illustrating the cyclical nature of trauma.

“‘You’re so beautiful. Look at your beautiful brown skin,’ he said; and before I could say anything about his ‘compliment,’ Ted knelt and pulled my knickers and tights down to my ankles, giving me frog’s legs as he lay on top of me and tried to enter me. ‘It’s probably not going to, hold on, I’m just not really warmed up and you’re really big and, just wait a se—’ I tried to say. ‘It’s okay, why don’t I just—’ Ted spat on his hand and wiped it between my legs.”

While Queenie has convinced herself that Ted is a nice guy who might actually care about her, it becomes clear that he isn’t nice and doesn’t care. He fetishizes Queenie and ignores her physical and verbal cues, paying attention only to what he wants. The novel’s descriptions of sex, this one included, clearly show how men use women’s bodies as a tool for their own desires and fantasies while ignoring that women have sensations and feelings, too.

“When had the space that I had known like the back of my hand, the only area I’d ever been to that I felt like I could be myself in, the place where so many people looked like me, talked like my family—when had it gone? Brixton. When had she been stripped of her identity? Why hadn’t I properly noticed? ‘NO JUSTICE!’ I shouted, a new brand of anger flooding my system. ‘NO PEACE!’”

For the first part of the Black Lives Matter protest, when everyone is chanting about police brutality, Queenie’s unable to raise her voice, afraid of being heard. Only when she finds a deeply personal connection, the gentrification of her family’s neighborhood, does she finds herself able to raise her voice. The fact that Queenie didn’t really noticed this until now indicates her detachment from her family and her past—and her general detachment from life.

“‘It’s not putting black lives on a pedestal, I don’t even know what that means,’ I said, my heart beating fast. ‘It’s saying that black lives, at this point, and historically, do not, and have not mattered, and that they should!’ I looked first at Gina, then around the room to see if anyone was going to back me up. Instead I was met with what I’d been trying to pretend hadn’t always been a room full of white not-quite-liberals whose opinions, like their money, had been inherited."

The narrative reveals how Queenie has become so unmotivated at work, as every time she has an idea that she’s excited to write about, Gina shoots her down, saying that it’s too radical for their paper. While her company uses her for diversity posters, they don’t protect her from the racism of other employees or support her writing about “diverse” ideas. In this scene, the reality of Queenie’s working environment settles in: While she thought she’d be able to use the newspaper as a place to write about things that matter to her, she must conform to the desires of the centrist, white higher-ups.

“‘But we love each other!’ I said, trying to convince him. ‘All this time, I thought we loved each other,’ I said, trying to convince myself. ‘And the text, at New Year’s, I said I wanted us to have a good year, and you replied with a kiss?’”

As things continue to fall apart in Queenie’s life, she forces herself to confront Tom. The difference in their attitudes and perceptions of what happened is stark in this conversation, as Queenie believed they were on a break and Tom believed they were totally broken up. The potential for love that Queenie has been clinging to all this time is shattered as soon as she faces Tom, confirming her worst fears about abandonment.

“‘Do you know the thing about you, Queenie?’ She found the edge and picked at it. ‘You’re damaged goods,’ she said. Her words hit me as if Apollo Creed had punched me in the chest. I sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You’re damaged goods, so you self-destruct […] No wonder Tom escaped when he did. He was too good for you.’ As her words continued to strike me, I could feel my heart fragment a little more. ‘You’re so closed off that actual love is out of your reach, so you settle for sex. With anyone who’ll f*** you. Your self-esteem is a joke […] With a mum like yours, it’s no surprise.’”

Cass upholds patriarchal standards in her reaction to finding out that Guy was cheating with Queenie, taking his side and placing all the blame on Queenie for being too “easy” and “slutty.” While she’s unable to see how she’s treating herself as “damaged goods” by settling for a cheating man, she uses the personal information she knows about Queenie as her friend to tear her apart. Rather than banding together to support one another as two woman who have both been hurt by the same man, Cass rips their friendship apart.

“‘Let her go, huh?’ He said to my grandmother. She stopped washing up immediately, but carried on looking into the sink. ‘Maybe if all ah we had learned to talk about our troubles, we wouldn’t carry so much on our shoulders all the way to the grave.’ He turned to walk out, his stick hitting the floor with purpose. ‘Maybe we haffi learn from this new generation, Veronica.’”

While Queenie’s grandmother holds onto what she believes has helped her family survive, which is pretending that everything is okay and not acknowledging their trauma, her grandfather suggests that it might be time to change their approach to survival. Queenie’s grandfather rarely speaks, but when he does, he makes statements of impact.

“‘For a bit, I was living in a flat,’ I told her. No turning back now. ‘By myself, mainly. She popped back, from time to time. I wasn’t there for long, just a few months. I could take care of myself. It was fine,’ I tried to convince her, and myself […] ‘I was fine. And it was better than the alternative. I couldn’t live with him anymore. I didn’t fit in with his warped idea of the home he wanted. He hated me. He made her hate me. It was destroying me.’”

Although the text has hinted at Queenie’s traumatic past with her mother and stepfather, Roy, she shuts it down every time a friend brings it up. Finally, Queenie opens up to her therapist about her past and, revealing her pain. As she talks, she protects herself from old, hurtful feelings by justifying what happened and claiming that it was better than the alternative.

“‘I wasn’t much fun those last few months. It must have been like watching someone on self-destruct.’ I laughed awkwardly. But felt less awkward. ‘I’m not your friend because you entertain me,’ Darcy said. I moved towards her and hugged her tightly, surprising her and myself. ‘I’ve missed this,’ she said into my shoulder, her voice muffled by my hair. For the first time in ages, I felt like me.”

Queenie starts to see the effects of her therapy sessions and journey towards healing, as she initiates a hug with Darcy, whereas in the past she tried to avoid hugs at all costs. While Queenie felt like she was losing her relationships and didn’t think her friends would love her if they saw her in her worst moments, like during a panic attack, Darcy reminds her that friendships aren’t conditional.

“How could I have been so selfish, how couldn’t I have seen? This tiny, meek woman being swallowed by an armchair was the same woman who’d started to raise me, the woman who’d been so obsessed with me that we wore matching outfits until I was eight, who always told me that I was strong enough to be a queen. She’d been so mentally and physically battered by men that she couldn’t find her voice anymore. But she was still my mum.”

In this quote, the similarities between Queenie and her mother are visible, as both were traumatized by men into not speaking up about their pain or true desires and beliefs. Queenie finally starts to break the cycle of pain that Roy created by finding compassion and love for her mother.

“‘I can’t wake up and not be a black woman, Janet. I can’t walk into a room and not be a black woman, Janet. On the bus, on the Tube, at work, in the cafeteria. Loud, brash, sassy, angry, mouthy, confrontational, bitchy.’ I listed off all of my usual descriptors on my fingers. ‘There are the ones people think are nice, though: well-spoken, surprisingly intelligent, exotic. My favorite is sexy, I think? I guess I should be grateful for any attention at all.’”

This scene shows how a white therapist can fail a Black client, as Janet is unable to totally understand, and therefore give good advice about, Queenie’s problems. A major theme throughout the novel centers on the micro- and macro-aggressions that Black women face daily; Queenie often lets these comments go because she doesn’t have the time or energy to address them or because—due to her trauma—she doesn’t think she deserves uncomplicated love. Here, Queenie reveals that all this daily racism adds up, as she breaks down.

“And for the next two hours, I remembered what it was like to be normal again. Then remembered Janet saying that there was no such thing as normal, and was finally grateful that she hadn’t let me walk away after one session.”

After spending so long wanting to return to a past self and suddenly be “normal” again, Queenie learns from Janet that “normal” isn’t an achievable goal and that her journey to healing will be winding and nonlinear. Queenie remembers this lesson as she returns to work, using her breathing exercises when she has moments of anxiety and feeling grateful when she has moments of being present and happy—but knowing that both of these emotional states are “normal.”

“‘For the hundredth time, you should have just left me alone!’ I screamed. I was sure everyone in the square was looking over. ‘I hate you!’ I screamed again. ‘You trying to kill yourself has nothing to do with me, everyone has problems, Ted, and it doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. Leave me alone!””

As the book concludes, it reveals how Queenie has learned to use her voice, let go of what other people think about her, and reject unhealthy attention. Ted uses manipulative tactics to try to get her attention back, but she rejects him, choosing to be alone over being with a bad man.

“‘I know we never really talk. But, as you say, that’s just my way… But because I don’t talk nah mean I don’t feel. When you came to stay those months ago, I felt bad.’ He sighed. ‘I felt so bad that you were going to end up like your mother. I could see it in you, in your eyes.’ He stopped. ‘I could see the fear, and the resignation. I thought you’d given up. And I felt like I did, in my chest, when she turned up here after Roy hit her so hard she almost didn’t get up […] But you didn’t let it take you […] You’re full of fight, Queenie. Full of fight.’”

As Queenie embarks on her journey toward healing, it impacts her family and their relationship to mental health and trauma. Her grandparents come to accept therapy as a helpful thing, and her grandfather opens up to her about his emotions. The pain and trauma in her family is cyclical, and in reaching out for help, Queenie has begun to stop this cycle from continuing.