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With Little Women, Louisa May Alcott inspired generations of girls to declare, “I am a Jo.” The novel explores the stifling reality of girls becoming women in the nineteenth century, and the lessons the March sisters endure continue to resonate. I grew up rereading my massive copy of the novel and dreaming of ice skating on lakes; and rereading it as an adult, in the wake of a debilitating depressive episode, I cannot help but feel I have somehow grown alongside it. This paper does not attempt to remove me from my analysis. Using my experience with depression as a lens, I argue that in Little Women, maturing into womanhood is a process of becoming lonely. And, conversely, I treat the novel as a part of the personal archive which marks my coming of age, a miniature portrait of growing up and growing lonely. I work chronologically through the sisters’ imaginatively lush childhoods into their repressive and isolating adulthood, engaging with the novel’s portrayal of marriage, independence, creative expression, and death. And finally, I wonder about hope and solitude, a possible balm to the burden of loneliness. Content Warning: This paper explores depression, disordered eating, and suicidal ideation.