Nicola Dinan’s second novel, Disappoint Me, arrives three years after their acclaimed debut Bellies, which won the Polari First Book Prize and established Dinan as a vital voice in contemporary LGBTQ+ literature. Where Bellies explored the complexities of a relationship during gender transition, Disappoint Me ventures into equally challenging territory: the intersection of personal growth, cultural expectations, and the shadows cast by past mistakes.
The novel follows Max, a thirty-year-old trans woman navigating the peculiar disappointments of adult life. Despite having achieved many traditional markers of success—a book of poetry published, a stable job as a legal counsel, financial independence—she finds herself plagued by a persistent dissatisfaction. As she observes with characteristic wit, “While I forever float in my own life story, I rarely wade into other people’s.”
The Architecture of Modern Romance
A Love Story Built on Shaky Ground
At its heart, Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan is a romance novel, but one that refuses the easy consolations of the genre. Max’s relationship with Vincent begins with the kind of careful optimism that characterizes contemporary dating among the emotionally scarred. Vincent is Chinese-British, a corporate lawyer who seems to represent everything Max thought she wanted: stability, kindness, and a refreshing absence of the performative queerness that defined her past relationships.
Dinan excels at capturing the texture of modern romance—the careful calibration of text messages, the way intimacy develops through shared mundanity, the particular vulnerability of introducing someone to your chosen family. The early chapters depicting Max and Vincent’s courtship are among the novel’s strongest, filled with moments of genuine tenderness that feel earned rather than manufactured.
Cultural Collision and Family Dynamics
One of the novel’s most compelling aspects is its exploration of how cultural expectations shape romantic relationships. Vincent’s struggle to introduce Max to his traditional Chinese parents adds layers of complexity that extend beyond typical coming-out narratives. Dinan skillfully navigates the intersection of racism, transphobia, and generational trauma without reducing any character to a simple antagonist.
The subplot involving Vincent’s father’s heart attack serves as both a catalyst for emotional growth and a mirror reflecting the fragility of all relationships. Max’s observation that “time is kinder to men, even gay men” carries particular weight as she contemplates her own aging in a world that often renders trans women invisible after thirty.
The Ghost of Alex: When Past and Present Collide
Confronting Historical Harm
The novel’s central conflict emerges from Vincent’s past—specifically, his role in outing and abandoning Alex, a trans woman he briefly dated during a gap year in Thailand over a decade earlier. When this history surfaces, it forces both Max and the reader to grapple with questions of forgiveness, accountability, and the possibility of redemption.
Dinan handles this revelation with remarkable nuance, avoiding the temptation to paint Vincent as either wholly innocent or irredeemably guilty. The flashback chapters to Thailand are written with a younger Vincent’s voice, capturing the confusion and cowardice of a nineteen-year-old grappling with his own identity while causing irreparable harm to another person.
The character of Alex, though she never appears directly in the present timeline, haunts the narrative like a literary ghost. Her presence raises uncomfortable questions about the trans community’s capacity for both harm and healing, challenging readers to consider how we navigate relationships when everyone carries the potential for both love and betrayal.
Literary Craftsmanship and Emotional Intelligence
A Voice Sharpened by Experience
Dinan’s prose has matured considerably since Bellies. The writing in Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan is more controlled, more confident in its ability to find humor in darkness without diminishing the weight of serious subjects. Max’s internal monologue crackles with wit—”I think the clarinet is gay” she muses about Vincent’s former musical aspirations—while never losing sight of her underlying pain.
The novel’s structure, alternating between Max’s present-day crisis and Vincent’s past in Thailand, creates a sense of inevitability that drives the narrative forward. Dinan understands that the most devastating revelations are often those we see coming, and they use this knowledge to create sustained tension throughout the middle section of the book.
Capturing Millennial Anxiety
Perhaps more than any other contemporary novel, Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan captures the specific anxieties of millennial adulthood. Max’s frustration with her stalled poetry career, her complicated relationship with work, and her sense that everyone else has figured out some secret to happiness will resonate deeply with readers navigating their own thirties.
The novel’s exploration of friendship—particularly through Max’s relationship with Simone—provides some of its most emotionally satisfying moments. Their bond offers a counterpoint to the romantic drama, suggesting that perhaps the most sustaining love stories are often platonic ones.
Strengths and Occasional Stumbles
What Works Brilliantly
Authentic dialogue: Characters speak like real people, complete with interruptions, non-sequiturs, and the kind of miscommunication that drives actual relationships
Cultural specificity: The details of Hong Kong childhood, London queer scenes, and middle-class Chinese-British family dynamics feel lived-in and accurate
Emotional complexity: Dinan refuses easy answers, allowing characters to be simultaneously sympathetic and frustrating
Areas for Growth
While Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan succeeds on most levels, it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own ambitions. The subplot involving Max’s brain tumor, while clearly intended to add urgency to her decision-making process, sometimes feels like an artificial intensifier of stakes that were already sufficiently high.
Additionally, some secondary characters—particularly in the France vacation sequence—veer toward caricature. Fred and Aisha’s marriage troubles, while thematically relevant, lack the nuanced development that Dinan brings to the central relationships.
Themes That Resonate Beyond the Page
The Price of Forgiveness
Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan grapples seriously with questions of accountability and redemption. Can Vincent’s genuine growth excuse his past actions? Does Max owe him forgiveness, or would extending it constitute a betrayal of Alex and other trans women who have faced similar harm?
Dinan wisely refuses to provide easy answers, instead exploring how the desire for love can complicate our moral calculations. The novel suggests that forgiveness is not a simple transaction but an ongoing process that requires constant renegotiation.
Identity and Performance
The book’s exploration of identity extends beyond gender to encompass questions of class, race, and cultural belonging. Max’s observation that she can “do” femininity convincingly while struggling with its expectations speaks to broader questions about authenticity and performance that resonate far beyond trans experiences.
A Worthy Addition to Contemporary LGBTQ+ Literature
Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan joins a growing body of nuanced LGBTQ+ literature that refuses to treat queer characters as symbols rather than complex individuals. Readers who appreciated Bellies will find this a worthy successor, while newcomers to Dinan’s work will discover a writer at the height of their powers.
The novel’s exploration of forgiveness, cultural identity, and the possibility of change makes it essential reading for anyone interested in contemporary relationships and their complications. Like the best romance novels, it leaves readers not with easy comfort but with a deeper understanding of love’s complexities.
Final Verdict: A Complex Portrait of Modern Love
Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan is that rare novel that manages to be both deeply personal and broadly resonant. Dinan has crafted a story that honors the full complexity of trans experience while creating characters that transcend any single identity category. It’s a book about disappointment, yes, but also about the possibility of finding meaning and connection despite—or perhaps because of—our capacity to hurt one another.
This is essential reading for anyone interested in contemporary literature that grapples seriously with questions of identity, forgiveness, and the possibility of redemption. While it may disappoint readers seeking simple answers, it will deeply satisfy those willing to sit with life’s more challenging questions.
For readers who enjoyed “Disappoint Me,” consider exploring other contemporary LGBTQ+ novels like “Detransition, Baby” by Torrey Peters, “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” by Taylor Jenkins Reid, or “Red: A Crayon’s Story” by Michael Hall for different perspectives on identity and relationships.