top of page

Book Review: Late Bloomer by Mazey Eddings

  • Writer: Amy
    Amy
  • Jan 16
  • 4 min read

Okay, so I just finished Late Bloomer by Mazie Eddings, and I have to tell you about it because it hit me in ways I wasn’t expecting.


It’s about this woman, Olive, who’s in her late twenties, and she feels like she’s way behind in life—like, she’s not where she thought she’d be by now. And the thing that really resonated with me is that Olive is figuring out her sexuality, and she’s kind of a “late bloomer” in that sense. It’s this beautiful, raw, and vulnerable exploration of realizing that maybe you didn’t fully know yourself before, but now you’re finally figuring it out.

I felt so connected to Olive’s journey. She’s questioning her identity, not just in terms of love but also in terms of who she is as a person, what she wants, and how she fits into the world. And, honestly, it’s such a powerful reminder that it’s okay to not have everything figured out—especially when it comes to love and sexuality. Like, we’re told that we should know exactly who we are by a certain age, but that’s not true at all. Olive’s figuring it out at her own pace, and that made me feel so seen.


The romance in the book? It’s gorgeous. It’s not just the typical love story, it’s so much more than that. It’s about finding someone who respects you, who sees you for who you are, and who gets the complexities of your journey. The chemistry between Olive and her love interest is electric, but it’s also this soft, gentle unfolding of trust. There’s this emotional depth that goes beyond just attraction, and I loved how the book really delves into the importance of communication and consent. It felt so real and affirming, especially as a queer woman. There’s something so validating about seeing a love story that isn’t just about falling in love, but about discovering yourself in the process.

But what really hit me was Olive’s growth. I think it’s something we’ve talked about before—how sometimes it feels like we’re not where we “should” be in life. Olive is literally figuring out her sexuality later in life, and that’s something that hit me so hard. It’s this message that it’s okay to take your time, to be messy, and to not have it all figured out when everyone else seems to have their lives together. It’s so validating to see a character who’s just as lost, but also just as worthy of love and happiness.


Honestly, the way the book handles her coming out and her sexual awakening is just beautiful. It’s not rushed, it’s not overdone—it’s real. It’s raw. And it felt so necessary to read. I know we’ve both struggled with feeling like we’re behind in the whole “lesbian journey,” but this book was such a reminder that there’s no timeline. We can discover who we are at any age, and that’s completely okay.


I honestly can’t stress enough how much Late Bloomer needs to be read by so many people, especially those who are struggling with their sexual identity or questioning their place in the world. I feel like there’s this huge group of people—especially in the queer community—who are still trying to figure themselves out, and it can be so isolating. If you’ve ever felt like you’re late to the game, like you’re the only one who doesn’t have it all figured out, Olive’s story is for you. There’s something so comforting in seeing a character who’s just as lost as you might feel, but still deserving of love and happiness. It’s like, finally, a story that tells you it’s okay to take your time, that there’s no rush to “get it right.”

I know a lot of people—especially those who might not have had the luxury of growing up in an environment where they could explore their sexuality freely—might relate to Olive’s experience. She’s not just discovering her sexuality, she’s coming to terms with it in a world that often demands a clear, concrete answer. That feeling of being behind or “too old” to figure it out is so real, and I think it’s something a lot of queer people face, even if they don’t always talk about it. But Olive’s journey is so validating because it shows that there’s no “right” time to come into your own. You’re not running out of time, and you’re not alone in your confusion. For people who might be in the same situation as Olive—whether they’re questioning their sexuality or simply struggling to accept it—this book offers such a powerful sense of solidarity. It’s like, “Hey, you’re not the only one.” There are so many people who feel like they don’t belong in the world of mainstream queer narratives because they’re not “out” at the right time, or they haven’t had their first kiss or first relationship at the “right” age. But Late Bloomer shows that there’s beauty in being on your own path, and that it’s okay to take the scenic route. We need more stories like this—stories that normalize the idea that everyone’s journey is different, and that’s perfectly okay.


And it’s not just about sexual identity, either. Olive’s story is about figuring out who you are in the world, no matter what age you are. So many people, queer or not, can relate to the feeling of being “behind” or “late” in some area of their life—whether it’s love, career, or even just self-acceptance. This book needs to be out there for people who feel like they’re not living up to the expectations of society, their families, or even themselves. Olive’s journey is a reminder that it’s never too late to figure things out, to love yourself, and to start living the life you truly want to live.

I really wish more people could see themselves in a character like Olive—someone who’s messy and real and figuring it out as she goes. It would help so many people feel seen and understood, especially those who don’t always have the support or validation they need to embrace their sexuality. There’s so much power in seeing someone like you in a book, someone who’s been where you are, and still ends up finding happiness and love in their own way. I really believe that stories like Olive’s can change lives, even if it’s just by making someone feel like they’re not alone in their journey.

Comments


bottom of page