A review by bookishmillennial
This Is Why They Hate Us by Aaron H. Aceves

challenging emotional funny hopeful reflective sad fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
disclaimer if you’ve read other reviews by me and are noticing a pattern: You’re correct that I don’t really give starred reviews because I don’t like leaving them. Most often, I will only leave them if I vehemently despised a book.

I enjoy most books for what they are, & I extract lessons from them all. Everyone’s reading experiences are subjective, so I hope my reviews provide enough information to let you know if a book is for you or not, regardless if I add stars or not.

Find me on Instagram: @bookish.millennial or tiktok: @bookishmillennial

My friend Jillian recommended this and I’m so glad she did! I thought this was a beautiful explorative coming-of-age, romance & slice-of-life piece of teen fiction. 17-year-old Enrique “Qique” is exploring his bisexuality during summer break, and I am here for his messy, confusing, quick-paced ho era (affectionate!!!!)

His relationship with his parents is so sweet, and I adored the dynamic he had with his Afro-Latina best friend Fabiola, who is also bisexual! Fabiola is chasing after thick-thighed Molly, while Qique has a few contenders!

Manny — Latino tough guy exterior but sends major sexual tension Qique’ away
Tyler — white guy who shows off his package via basketball shorts & is the talk of the town; also a huge stoner & other characters call him a “wanksta”
Ziggy — buttoned-up Black student body president from school who he feels *vibes* around but everyone comments “I didn’t think he liked boys”
Saleem — his devastatingly gorgeous, short Palestinian king, his unrequited love, pining so passionately for, long time crush and best friend
Lauren — meets her at a county fair or amusement park in a group setting

What I enjoyed most about a lot of Qique’s interactions with all of his potential love interests us that he didn’t have to continually “come out” to his love interests. For the most part, they didn’t talk about their sexualities, which felt authentic to how things unravel when you’re a teenager. I also was so proud of Qique for recognizing what kinds of dynamics worked for him, how hanging out with certain people made him feel, & what he truly wanted & was searching for in these experiences.

I think Aceves did a fantastic job of layering the sex scenes in this book with commentary and introspection as to what was coming up for Qique each time. Nothing is explicit; this isn’t smût, but books like this are important for teens to investigate their own sexuality, because let’s be real. Teens are fucking. Let’s not pretend we were born yesterday. It’s important to name these feelings as they’re experiencing them, and to read about characters figuring it out as they possibly fumble through it!

Lastly, the mental health representation was immaculate — to pretend adolescence is a fever dream of solely joyful times is to deny the human experience lol. I felt for Qique so badly! I am so glad there was talk therapy in this book, and how Qique recognized that maybe he still needed these types of guided conversations. The way medication is introduced and not demonized was wonderful too.

All around, this was an excellent book and I highly recommend it to all ages, but damn, I wish I had a book like this when I was fucking at 17.

Quotations that stood out to me:
 
Let’s do the things that will lead to us becoming the people we want to be.”

My best friend is kind of a big deal when it comes to social media. She posts everything from political opinions to astrology memes to thirst traps to comments on her celebrity crushes’ thirst traps to analysis of her favorite shows to thoughts on the Afro-Latina experience, and has gained an almost cult following along the way. One time she posted a video of us together with the caption Me and the baby daddy, and I started getting vaguely threatening DMs from hot girls with septum piercings.

It would be so much easier not to feel anything for anyone at all. The problem is I feel so much.

“Because boys are the worst. If I could choose not to be attracted to them, I would.”

I grip my phone so hard I wonder if I might actually crush it. I did it. I’m amazing. A true queer icon.

It’s funny how everything’s a double entendre when you’re living a double life.

I’m done with people. People are exhausting. Sure, they can be fun sometimes; they can “open you up to new experiences” or whatever. But the anxiety leading up to spending time with them and the emotional drain afterward make them not worth it.

I want a person to demonstrate that it’s possible to love me, no matter what. And those three words are so important: no matter what. I want someone to love me unconditionally. I want to be certain that nothing I could ever do would make them stop.

(And yes, the official name of a group of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope. I found that out a year ago after fact-checking a Simpsons episode that claimed a flock of crows is called a murder. The show writers were right, and I’m glad to say there are plenty of strange collective animal names. A squad of flamingos is called a flamboyance! How wonderfully gay! A clique of frogs is called an army! Who are they fighting? I don’t know, but I support them!)

I don’t know. And I shouldn’t care. Because this is exhausting. I’m tired of being envious of people. It’s a never-ending list.


They are living, not just surviving. And I hate them for it. And I hate myself for hating them for it.

It always happens in the summer. People are supposed to get sad in the winter, but for me it’s always the summer. There’s too much time. Too much time to think. Too much time to feel. I

Here’s the thing about therapists: I always know what they’re gonna say. I know how I should be, how I should feel, what’s “healthy behavior.” But there’s a reason I don’t always go in that direction. When you’re poor and overworked you don’t go to the grocery store after your shift ends to shop and then go home to slave over the stove, even if that’s the healthier, more cost-efficient option. When you’re poor and overworked you go to McDonald’s, and even though you already feel guilty for ordering a large Big Mac meal, you throw in a strawberry shake because there’s a chance that fucking ...more

So often I blame myself for being lazy and dramatic, and while I’m sure I can’t blame everything on my mental illness(es), I just don’t want to be making it all up.

I’d rather not die after finding out how much there is to live for.

There’s a tension between us now, unmistakable and unwelcome.

You internalize an idea about yourself and it starts affecting how you act and you end up with a self-fulfilling prophecy. So I’m constantly doubting my attractions, my actual feelings. I’m gaslighting myself. Because the message I’ve gotten about guys who like guys and girls is that we’re faking, that we couldn’t possibly be attracted to girls if we’re attracted to boys. Bi girls get the same thing, but for them it means they’re perceived as straight and for us it means we’re perceived as gay.

Is this what those guys on the app meant when they put “not into drama” in their bios? They don’t want someone who will call them out on their bullshit? Who demands to be treated like a human being?

I hate that prejudice is a factor when it comes to my love life. I hate that it makes it seem like I see women as a second choice or a backup plan or a consolation prize when I could very well meet a girl one day who makes me redefine love. I want to be free. I don’t want to consider what people will think of me when it comes to what I want. But that’s not life. At least, not for me, not at this point in time. I hope eventually I find the courage to follow my heart when I need to, wherever it takes me.

Thinking about the fact that so many people have used religion as a way of making people like me and Saleem hate ourselves is crushing. But then I think about my parents (who still love me) and how no one group is a monolith, that no matter what your religion is, you can still choose to love others.

I don’t deserve to feel shame, to feel lonely, to be treated like a sex object, to be ignored, to be someone’s experiment. I definitely don’t deserve any of that. And I’m glad I know that now. It’s a feeling I hope doesn’t leave me for the rest of my life.

It’s not ideal, not anywhere close to that, but we make it an enchanted life. We bisexuals are, after all, mythical creatures.

I feel the weight of it, and it hurts. But I stop blocking the fear. And with it comes everything else. Joy and sadness and exhilaration. 

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