Original title: "Choisir de vivre: Un récit bouleversant" (Choosing to Live: A Heartbreaking Story) by Mathilde Daudet.
  Mathilde Daudet’s Choisir de vivre: Un récit bouleversant (Choosing to Live: A Heartbreaking Story) is not just an autobiography, it is a mirror held up to the soul, reflecting both the light of courage and the shadows of repression. In this intimate narrative, Daudet, the great-granddaughter of the celebrated French writer Alphonse Daudet, tells the story of her metamorphosis from Jean-Pierre, a risk-taking war reporter and father of four, to Mathilde, a woman finally free to exist in her true form. The book reads with the emotional depth of a novel and the authenticity of lived truth. It explores the painful duality of a person torn between the role imposed by society and the identity whispered by the heart. Mathilde, who transitioned in 2010 at the age of sixty, unfolds a life that is as turbulent as it is tender, revealing how one can live a lie for decades and still find the strength to reclaim the self.
  The story begins in the 1950s, in a traditional and devoutly Catholic family where obedience, respectability, and masculine virtue were sacrosanct. In a childhood scene that echoes through the rest of the narrative, little Thierry steals a silk beige nightgown hanging on a line and, when no one is looking, slips it over his body. In that fleeting moment, he becomes a princess. The joy of this discovery is immediately punished when an uncle catches him and commands silence. That night of forbidden ecstasy becomes the foundation of a life lived in secrecy and shame. For the next fifty years, Mathilde hides behind a façade of exaggerated masculinity. She becomes a cameraman, a grand reporter covering wars and revolutions, a man nicknamed “Rambo” for his reckless courage. She rides motorcycles, takes helicopters into danger zones without harnesses, and lives in a blur of adrenaline. Yet every evening, the man of steel would peel off his armor and face the ghost in the mirror, the woman trapped beneath.
  Daudet’s writing captures this dual existence with remarkable clarity and compassion. Thierry, the outward persona, is the brother in the story’s dual narrative voice; Mathilde, the hidden self, is his twin soul. Their dialogue throughout the book is both haunting and redemptive. Together, they represent two halves of one being struggling toward unity. For years, the masculine identity dominates, crushing the voice within. But the harder Thierry plays the role of the fearless man, the more unbearable the dissonance becomes. The book speaks with painful honesty about suicidal thoughts, depressive episodes, and the desperate attempts to drown inner truth in work, danger, and fleeting love affairs.
  What ultimately saves Mathilde is love and self-acceptance. When she meets Anne, a woman of warmth and understanding, the facade finally cracks. Anne becomes the bridge between denial and liberation, encouraging Mathilde to live authentically. It is Anne who accompanies her to Thailand for gender confirmation surgery in 2010. Daudet recounts the experience with calm lucidity, describing the physical pain and emotional rebirth that follow. There is no sensationalism in her words, only gratitude. “I was not afraid,” she writes. “At worst, I would die under anesthesia. But if I woke up, I would finally be me.”
  Returning to France after surgery, Mathilde faces the social consequences of authenticity. She loses her work in television, some friends turn away, yet she gains what she calls the greatest prize of all, inner peace. Despite being called names such as “the creature” by the ignorant, she finds happiness in laughter and simplicity. Her four sons, whom she feared might reject her, surprise her with their love and acceptance. “I felt so foolish for ever doubting them,” she admits. The book becomes a hymn to reconciliation, not only with family but with the fragmented self that has waited half a century for recognition.
 Daudet’s prose carries the elegance of her literary heritage while breaking from it in raw modern sincerity. She writes about growing up under the shadow of moral rigidity, where pleasure was sin and identity was dictated by faith and patriarchy. The death of her younger brother, whom she adored, becomes a turning point in her rejection of divine control. “I had begged God for years, believing that doing good would bring good. When my brother died from a medical error, I told God to manage without me.” This defiance is not blasphemy but liberation. It is the moment when the chains of guilt begin to crack.
Daudet’s prose carries the elegance of her literary heritage while breaking from it in raw modern sincerity. She writes about growing up under the shadow of moral rigidity, where pleasure was sin and identity was dictated by faith and patriarchy. The death of her younger brother, whom she adored, becomes a turning point in her rejection of divine control. “I had begged God for years, believing that doing good would bring good. When my brother died from a medical error, I told God to manage without me.” This defiance is not blasphemy but liberation. It is the moment when the chains of guilt begin to crack.
  The title Choisir de vivre is both declaration and defiance. Choosing to live, for Mathilde, is not simply about surviving but about existing truthfully, even when society prefers the lie. She refuses to glamorize her transition as a triumph of spectacle, contrasting herself with figures like Caitlyn Jenner whose media exposure risks turning personal truth into performance. For Daudet, dignity lies in quiet authenticity. She offers her story as a message to those still imprisoned by fear, inviting them to see that life, even at its most painful, can be reclaimed.
  What makes her memoir extraordinary is its humanity. It does not seek pity or applause. It is filled with humor, grace, and melancholy in equal measure. The reader meets not a symbol of transgender identity but a person who has walked through the fire and come out with a smile. Mathilde is no longer the boy who stole a dress or the man who filmed wars; she is a woman who has made peace with both. Her laughter, as she says, is constant now. In the end, Choisir de vivre is not the story of a transformation but of an awakening. It is a love letter to the fragile courage that hides within every human being, the courage to live as oneself.
  Available via Amazon
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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