Literary Kitchen Witch: Must-read mental health novel for your 20’s 


Everyone has heard that we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. While this timeless saying holds true in many instances, it is nearly impossible to not let the cover’s pretty colors or illustrations draw you in, hypnotizing you and enticing you to read the description. At least that is why I picked up a copy of “Adelaide” by Genevieve Wheeler. The cover features vibrant hand-drawn flowers and a pink jacket to make the novel look breathtakingly beautiful. Little did I know that what resided within the pages was even better. 

Adelaide Williams is a 26-year-old living in London at that stage in her life when friends are getting married or moving away to better their careers and she feels somewhat left behind, wondering if she will ever find that same love. Resident “Disney prince,” Rory Hughes, affectionately dubbed by Adelaide is extremely hot and cold, leaving Adelaide wondering why she isn’t enough and putting herself last just to be seen. In an attempt to find love, Adelaide downloads a dating app and ends up dating Rory Hughes. This relatable debut novel is an exciting take on exploring grief and mental health while capturing a glimpse of being young and in love with friends, life and even a person who cannot reciprocate her feelings.

As I was reading the novel, I had a lot of mixed feelings; Wheeler does a great job of making the reader fall in love with the protagonist, genuinely making you sympathize and connect emotionally with Adelaide and her current situation. While many college students can relate to falling for someone who, if we are being honest, is a walking red flag, the novel tackles a much bigger idea: mental health. More specifically, the importance of prioritizing oneself and how those who are people pleasers will eventually burn out while simultaneously emphasizing when to seek help. 

Like Adelaide, my upbringing and family history has made mental illness a familiar topic for me. When reading the novel, I found myself relating to Adelaide because I give away too much of myself to others, often becoming worn out. A people pleaser is typically someone the majority considers helpful and kind. While it is good to help others, people pleasers tend to be taken advantage of. This manifests through “agreeing with whoever is in front of you, being unable to say no, apologizing for things you have no control over, and changing your personality depending on who is around.” Some of you may resonate with that; I know I did. So I began learning about what it meant to be a people pleaser and the emotional toll it takes on someone because you neglect your own needs. 

Coming from a Latine background, I related to Adelaide’s situation because mental health has always had a stigma. Topics surrounding mental illness are considered taboo, with afflicted people often being seen as weak or something that should be kept quiet. In fact, according to a study published with Frontiers in Public Health in 2018, “An examination of older Latinos found that they reported a greater embarrassment concerning having a mental illness than that of African Americans or European Americans and that this shame may be related to beliefs about disappointing family.” Unfortunately, the older generations are making younger generations feel embarrassed and scared to reach out for help. 

In my case, I did not know I was not mentally stable until I took a Psychology 101 class while we were learning about basic mental illnesses (anxiety disorders, depression, bipolar disorder, etc.). I was reading the various symptoms, and I knew something was wrong when I started “acing” the exams. Growing up, it was common knowledge in my family that many of us struggled with mental illness, but when someone had a manic episode or exhibited any symptom of a mental illness, it was quickly swept under the rug and not talked about. This made me think that mental illness was something to be embarrassed about and kept buried beneath the surface. I appreciated how Wheeler was able to battle the stigma of mental health by giving Adelaide the power to admit that something is wrong and to seek help eventually. 

Looking further, the fact that Adelaide does not change immediately after seeking therapy and stepping into a better relationship shows that therapy and medication do not solve everything. They aren’t a “magic potion” like some people like to think it is and often is a lot of trial and error. 

Overall, “Adelaide” does a solid job of portraying mental illness in a fresh, more modern light which makes her relatable to readers. It provided me grace moving forward and coping with the gaiety of realizing my traumas messed me up a little more than I cared to admit, something I think anyone can relate to once getting an inside scoop of Adelaide William’s life. 

Cynthia Solis is a junior writing about literature, cooking, and all things plants.  Her column “Literary Kitchen Witch” runs every other Wednesday.