Ghosts by Dolly Alderton
A hauntingly honest look at love, loss, and the slow fade of who we used to be.
Ghosts by Dolly Alderton was my first read from the author—and I completely get the hype now. Alderton has this rare ability to blend humor, heartache, and reality in a way that feels both intimate and universal. What initially seems like a modern love story about dating and ghosting quickly reveals itself to be so much more layered and rich.
At the heart of the story is Nina, a woman in her early 30s who’s slowly realizing that life is moving on—without her. Her best friend is pregnant with her second child and moving to the suburbs. Her ex-boyfriend (and now just a friend apparently) is in a serious relationship. Meanwhile, Nina is still in the city, feeling increasingly untethered and out of sync with the people around her. There’s a palpable sense of her watching life happen to other people while she remains stuck in place.
But Nina’s challenges extend beyond just the shifting dynamics of friendship and romance. Her father is slowly succumbing to Alzheimer’s, and her mother, in a moment of reinvention (or perhaps escape), has changed her name. These personal and familial shifts ground the book in something deeper than just romantic misadventures—they reflect how life, especially in your 30s, can feel like one long string of letting go, adapting, and trying to hold onto your sense of self.
Then comes Max—a man who seems like a dream. Charming, confident, upfront about wanting a serious relationship. Finally, someone who gets it, right? But just as Nina begins to trust, he ghosts her. And when I say ghosts her… I mean the kind of ghosting that made me want to throw my phone across the room in solidarity. I’ll admit: Nina’s many unanswered texts gave me an intense case of second-hand embarrassment. I cringed hard. But hey—haven’t we all had a moment where we tried to make sense of silence that just doesn’t make sense?
The title Ghosts might at first feel like a nod to dating culture and disappearing acts, but it’s actually a much more profound metaphor. Alderton explores what it means to become a ghost of yourself—losing the parts of your identity you once clung to, whether it's your career, your relationships, your roles in life. It’s about the grief of watching yourself or someone you love slowly fade—through illness, through age, through change.
What I appreciated most is how Alderton touches on feminism, illness, love, family, and identity without ever pushing these themes to the background. They’re all seamlessly woven into the story, never feeling like a side note or an afterthought.
This novel would resonate deeply with anyone in their late 20s to mid-30s—especially if you're feeling like you're behind, like you missed some milestone, or like everyone else got the manual to adulthood and you’re still flipping through the table of contents.
Raw, relatable, and often unexpectedly funny, Ghosts is a book that lingers. Highly recommend.
RATING: 3.5/5
