Kit sips her coffee alone at dawn while her husband sleeps off someone else's perfume. She navigates a marriage unraveling at the seams, fights to find a place in the world for a daughter no one understands, and opens her home to a stranger who helps her pick up the pieces, all while learning slowly that survival and living are not the same thing.
Camille is wild, free, and combustible, a woman who learned early that magic is something you create for yourself, and love is a delicate performance. She grapples with her spark, one that is magnetic and impossible to look away from, yet always one breath away from starting her relationships on fire, especially when it comes to her daughter.
Allison sets off to find a version of herself beyond the one that cries on the yellow porch swing stripped bare by too many changing seasons, carrying the weight of a mother she can't reach and a father still reckoning with heartache that will one day reach its end in a way none of them see coming.
Some memories don't sit neatly beside the others. They jut out, jagged and raw, refusing to smooth themselves into the warmth of a hand or the glow of passing streetlights. I, Me Too is a story spanning three generations of women, the echoes they inherit, the love that shows up even when it's complicated, late, and imperfect, and the scars that remind them of how far they’ve come.
