The Girls Who Grew Big

By employing rotating first-person narrators—Simone, Adela, and Emory—the text presents three distinct voices that blend to create a composite portrait of young motherhood amid the judgmental social landscape of Padua Beach. Simone’s voice, primal and declarative, is grounded in the physicality of her experience, while Adela’s narrative remains analytical and judgmental, filtered as it is through the rarified lens of class privilege. Striking a chord somewhere between these two opposites is Emory’s aspirational and conflicted storytelling, for she remains caught between the Girls’ world and her dreams of a more conventional future as a college student. This three-way narrative structure supports the novel’s examination of Found Family as a Remedy for Rejection, as the story itself is built like the Girls’ found family: a collection of disparate voices unified only by shared circumstances. The first-person perspective also confronts the unfiltered realities of childbirth, breastfeeding, and nausea, thereby challenging more sanitized depictions of pregnancy and motherhood.

As Simone, Adela, and Emory introduce themselves in their unique voices and establish their difficult circumstances, it soon becomes clear that Adela’s arrival in Padua Beach is a catalyst, for at this early stage in her own journey, her outsider’s perspective embodies the external judgment that the Girls have banded together to resist. Her initial dismissal of the town as a place of “reckless men and guns” (13) combines with her fear of the Girls’ wildness to implicitly foreshadow the turmoil that she will cause as she gradually acclimates to her position in this new social world. Although she initially carries herself apart from the Girls, seeing them as lesser than herself, her own pregnancy suggests that she will be compelled to join their ranks, as she is already feeling the effects of the same social stigma that has necessitated their group’s formation. 

Conversely, Simone’s opening monologue confronts and reclaims this stigma. When she identifies teen mothers and Florida itself as “the country’s favorite scapegoat” (6), this act of naming positions her as the group’s ideological anchor. Emory, however, is caught between Simone’s leadership and the allure that Adela represents, existing in a liminal space between these two poles. Her desire to attend college creates friction within the Girls’ community, yet her reliance on Simone for help with breastfeeding in the aftermath of her grandmother’s rejection illustrates Emory’s need for the solidarity that the Girls represent. Her internal conflict—aspiring to a life beyond Padua Beach while being tied to it—mirrors the broader tension between individual ambition and collective survival.

Simone’s deep bond with the natural landscape of the Panhandle can be found in her willingness to make an impromptu but essential home for her Girls on the shifting sands of the Florida beaches, and the group’s habit of meeting here reflects the importance of Reconnecting with the Healing Power of the Land. The novel’s opening chapters firmly establish the setting’s symbolic significance, and the wild background of the beaches become closely linked with the image of Simone’s red pickup truck, which soon emerges as the primary symbol of the Girls’ autonomy. Together with the dune lake, the vehicle becomes a sanctuary for all of the Girls, variably serving as a mobile home, a birthing room for Simone’s twins, and a communal gathering space. 

Simone may be the group’s leader, but through Adela’s perspective, the narrative examines how class and origin shape perceptions of place and identity. Her condescension toward Padua Beach is immediately apparent in her shock when Noni calls McDonald’s a “restaurant” (19), and her initial disgust with Noni’s cluttered home likewise exposes the prejudices associated with poverty and rural life in the American South. These dynamics illustrate the judgmental worldview that the Girls collectively resist: one that incorrectly conflates material poverty with moral deficiency. While the narrative makes it clear that Adela still has much to learn about life’s grittier realities, Noni’s presence offers an alternative system of value than the one with which her granddaughter was raised. Her expertise in herbal remedies and her generational connection to the land represent a form of wisdom and self-sufficiency that exists outside Adela’s suburban worldview. Noni’s correction of Adela’s judgment—“life’s not all about whole grains and calories” (19)—is a subtle rebuke of the classist assumptions undergirding Adela’s outlook. This dynamic recasts Padua Beach as a complex site of survival and heritage, even though outsiders may lack the willingness to perceive it.

The initial conflicts between the characters also expose the challenges involved in forging female relationships amid the external pressures and judgments of an unkind society. The violent confrontation between Simone and Adela at the dune lake is an ideological clash that stems from their vastly different social positions. Adela’s criticism of Simone’s drinking and her suggestion of adoption stem from a privileged version of morality that fails to comprehend Simone’s reality. In this context, Simone’s explosive rage exhibits her instinctive rejection of the harsh judgment lurking beneath Adela’s observations. By lashing out at the girl, Simone defends her bodily autonomy and her right to make choices without suffering the condescension of an outsider. This scene eliminates any simplistic notions of female solidarity, demonstrating that the Girls’ found family, far from being a utopia, is a space of intense negotiation. Emory’s attempt to bridge the gap between Adela and Simone underscores her precarious position, while Adela’s subsequent abandonment by her parents and her turn toward Chris highlight the vulnerability that makes the Girls’ imperfect support system vital for their long-term survival.