Circe: The Quiet Becoming of a Woman Who Chose Herself

There are books that entertain.

There are books that teach.

And then there are books that become part of your emotional memory—stitched into you like a lesson, a wound, and a balm all at once.

Circe by Madeline Miller is one of those books.

When I picked it up, I thought I was simply reading a retelling of mythology. A modern voice breathing life into a minor character from The Odyssey. What I didn’t expect was the resonance. The ache. The slow-burning fire of recognition in Circe’s journey—from girlhood to goddesshood, from exile to empowerment.

Because Circe isn’t just about Greek gods and mortals.

It’s about us.

It’s about every woman who has ever been silenced, sidelined, underestimated, or used. Every woman who has had to leave the safety of the known to find herself in solitude. Every woman who has been told she is “too much” or “not enough.”

Circe’s story is not loud. It is not performative. It is steady. It is deep.

She is kind and lonely, bold and broken, naive and wise—sometimes all at once. And that, perhaps, is what struck me the most: how human she feels, even in her divinity. She makes mistakes. She loves fiercely. She learns to walk away. She learns to stay. And most importantly, she learns to choose herself—again and again, even when it hurts.

Reading Circe during a personally difficult time made it even more poignant. I was navigating my own emotional chaos, trying to understand the knots within me. And Circe, in her quiet defiance and eventual peace, gave me a language for my own transformation. She helped me name things I hadn’t fully admitted to myself.

The writing? Poetic without being pretentious.

The world-building? Lush and intimate.

The emotion? Unrelenting.

But the real magic lies in the way Miller reframes femininity—not as something passive or decorative, but as a force. A story. A becoming.

I give Circe 5 out of 5 stars—not just for what it is, but for what it gave me.

A mirror. A moment. A myth I didn’t know I needed.

So if you’ve ever felt lost, unheard, or aching for your own power, Circe is waiting for you. And when you finish it, you may just find that a piece of you has quietly transformed too.