BOYS, well probably GIRLS, because is this a romance book? Not a clue slime. But I got around to reading Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine and man, what a book. I went in honestly without a clue, I went on the internet and typed “book to read as a man” and I was waiting to see like All the Light We Cannot See (WHICH BY THE WAY BEAUTIFUL READ 10/10 HIGHLY RECOMEND) and other war adjacent manly books. Stumbled onto a reddit thread and saw this one mentioned and had not a clue what it was about but decided ‘Why Not.’ After a little chapter I googled it and google said “romance” so I was expecting some kind of fluffy lovey-dovey, you know the drill: two quirky characters meet, fall in love, and magically fix each other’s problems with the power of a kiss (ewwwwww). And don’t get me wrong, there’s a place for that. But this book? It just… wasn’t that. And thank god for it. I’m not feeling rom-com at this moment, my ‘rom’ life has been well… like Eleanor Oliphant… completely fine.
The best part, for me, was just how refreshingly, wonderfully un-romancey it is. Raymond and Eleanor’s connection is so natural, so chill. It feels like a real friendship, built on small moments of kindness and just… being there. There’s no big, dramatic, plot-hijacking love confession. The story stays exactly where it’s supposed to be: on Eleanor. Her quiet world, her little victories, her struggles with a past that’s a whole lot heavier than it first seems.
And honestly, that’s what makes it stick with me. The reminder that not every meaningful relationship has to angle itself toward romance to be valid or important. There’s so much value in the steady, reliable presence of someone who shows up without expectation, who listens, who makes space for you to just exist. It highlights how friendship, empathy, and simple human connection can be every bit as transformative as love stories we’re used to seeing center stage. It’s kind of a call to notice those smaller, quieter bonds in our own lives, and to give them the weight that they deserve.
It’s easy to feel a little lost in the world, to feel like an outsider looking in, but this book gets it. It doesn’t offer any cheap fixes or fairy-tale endings. Instead, it offers something way more valuable: the quiet, steady reminder that it’s okay to not be okay, and that sometimes, the simple act of letting someone in, even just a little bit, and how that can be a lifeline. This story isn’t about some grand hero’s journey; it’s about the small, brave moments of a person trying to put themselves back together, and that feels a lot more real. It’s the kind of hope you can actually believe in.
To me, that kind of hope matters. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. And it sure as hell doesn’t come all at once, instead it builds slowly, like a jigsaw puzzle, piece by piece, one thing at a time. And often in ways that almost sneak up on you. It reminds you that healing isn’t some big finish line to cross, but a series of tiny, stubborn choices to keep going, to keep showing up for yourself and for the people who care. That’s what makes it powerful: with the idea that even when life feels unbearably heavy, there’s still room for light to filter in through the cracks, carried by the everyday kindness we so often overlook.
Now back to the story, Eleanor herself, what a character. She could have easily been an annoying stereotype, that kind of stuck-up, prickly person who says mean things just to be edgy, and then you’re supposed to feel bad for her later. But she’s not. She’s honestly, genuinely, a lovable perspective from the start. You get her, you feel for her, even before you know the first thing about what she’s been through. It’s all in the little things, the way the author builds her up, page by page, this stoic, perfectly constructed character trying to bury a truly tragic past.
There are so many lines that hit you in the gut. “Any mummy is better than no mummy,” she says at one point, and that line just sits with you, especially when you learn the full weight of what it means. It’s just brutal, man. You can’t help but feel a deep sadness for all the Eleanors in the world, the ones with those enormous pasts that haunt them and they’re just trying to get by. You just hope they keep going and not letting the past define them.
You know what, that’s what makes it stick…it’s heartbreaking, but there’s this quiet resilience woven through it all. You see someone carrying so much, yet still finding small ways to keep moving forward, to hold onto the little bits of hope and connection that show up. It’s a reminder that even when life leaves scars, there’s still room to grow, to breathe, and to just… exist without letting everything break you.
I especially like the overlying message of it all. Without saying too much, it’s a story about a person overcoming trauma, but the book doesn’t treat her struggles as a plot device. Rather it gives her the space to be unique, and to let her mans Ray-Ray(Raymond) be flawed and endearing right alongside her. I mean, yeah, the ending was kinda a let-down because well… I won’t say too much. But that’s just a little nit-pick.
Because the real takeaway isn’t about whether their relationship shifts or deepens, it’s about how much she’s already grown just by letting someone in. That openness, that willingness to share even a little piece of herself, is the win. It shows that healing doesn’t have to look like some dramatic transformation; it can simply be allowing another person to matter, and realizing you don’t have to carry everything alone. That’s the kind of ending that lingers, even without the “what happens after.”
In the end, it’s a story about the little things. It’s about being there for people, even when they’re not easy to be with. It’s about finding solace and love and strength not in some grand gesture, but in the quiet, simple act of friendship. And that, to me, feels more real than any movie romance. But yea, thanks boys, thanks girls(?) and enjoy!
SebastianMParente.com 
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