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A review by bookphile
Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxane Gay
TW: rape, eating disorders, binge eating, bulimia, abuse.
This was a hard novel to read. I mean, it's hard to call anything that talks about trauma, abuse, and years of self-punishment and hatred. Especially when it's obvious that the person never truly recovered from what happened to them (which is fine).
I'd never gone through what Roxane had gone through, I was never abused by anyone except myself. I'm familiar with self-loathing and hating my body and punishing it with food. Except I didn't eat like Roxanne did, I starved myself and no one noticed. I don't know why I did it. I was a picky eater and I was lazy- I hated cooking because my parents constantly said I"ll have to cook for my husband and so I refused to learn. So I starved. I ate junk. I ate so little I had zero energy to move or do anything - and frankly I'm shocked I was able to finish high school at the top of my class and college fairly decently when I ate like a bird. I ruined my health and faced consequences.
Then when I was finally living on my own, and I looked like a nose on a giant head. I said to myself - I have to do something. I have to stop hating myself. I have to eat. So I did. I learned to cook and make food taste decently. I didn't eat healthily, but I ate, and I did not refuse myself anything because I had starved my self for nearly two decades.
Then I hit 25 and my metabolism slowed down and I started gaining weight so fast that one day I wasn't fitting into my clothes and I wasn't sure how it happened. I had gone from size 00 to size 4 and then to size 6.
I still remember the day I came home one month and my other - who was lying on the couch - looked at me and said "Oh my god, you got fat". At that point I was size 4 I think. Perhaps compared to size 00 size 4 does seem big. But I think it was mostly the ill fitting clothes.
But my parents wouldn't stop calling me fat. I was old and liberal enough to not consider being fat a bad thing. But the constant disparagement about my weight - weight that had I been proud to put on so that I finally looked like a normal person instead of a starving girl.
"They forget that you are a person. You are your body, nothing more, and your body should damn well become less."
I'm 5'3, 148 lb, 28 yrs old. I fit into size 6 jeans and M shirts, coats, and sweaters. I'm considered overweight for my height and age. I look round and plump. But I'm not fat. In fact, everyone I know - except for my parents - tells me I look just fine. And I do. Except my parents have convinced me otherwise.
And so the "normal" body that I strove so hard to achieve has become a source of shame. I know that I'm not fat. I don't consider fat to be a bad thing. But that doesn't matter because thanks to my family I now feel like there's something wrong with me, even though I know otherwise.
I'm still working up to going to therapy because I've started considering not eating again. Not reducing calories - in fact, I don't really eat big portions or snack that much anymore. But I'm so scared of ruining my stomach and digestion again, that my body refuses to comply. Which is a good thing. Now I just have to deal with my mind.
This was a hard novel to read. I mean, it's hard to call anything that talks about trauma, abuse, and years of self-punishment and hatred. Especially when it's obvious that the person never truly recovered from what happened to them (which is fine).
I'd never gone through what Roxane had gone through, I was never abused by anyone except myself. I'm familiar with self-loathing and hating my body and punishing it with food. Except I didn't eat like Roxanne did, I starved myself and no one noticed. I don't know why I did it. I was a picky eater and I was lazy- I hated cooking because my parents constantly said I"ll have to cook for my husband and so I refused to learn. So I starved. I ate junk. I ate so little I had zero energy to move or do anything - and frankly I'm shocked I was able to finish high school at the top of my class and college fairly decently when I ate like a bird. I ruined my health and faced consequences.
Then when I was finally living on my own, and I looked like a nose on a giant head. I said to myself - I have to do something. I have to stop hating myself. I have to eat. So I did. I learned to cook and make food taste decently. I didn't eat healthily, but I ate, and I did not refuse myself anything because I had starved my self for nearly two decades.
Then I hit 25 and my metabolism slowed down and I started gaining weight so fast that one day I wasn't fitting into my clothes and I wasn't sure how it happened. I had gone from size 00 to size 4 and then to size 6.
I still remember the day I came home one month and my other - who was lying on the couch - looked at me and said "Oh my god, you got fat". At that point I was size 4 I think. Perhaps compared to size 00 size 4 does seem big. But I think it was mostly the ill fitting clothes.
But my parents wouldn't stop calling me fat. I was old and liberal enough to not consider being fat a bad thing. But the constant disparagement about my weight - weight that had I been proud to put on so that I finally looked like a normal person instead of a starving girl.
"They forget that you are a person. You are your body, nothing more, and your body should damn well become less."
I'm 5'3, 148 lb, 28 yrs old. I fit into size 6 jeans and M shirts, coats, and sweaters. I'm considered overweight for my height and age. I look round and plump. But I'm not fat. In fact, everyone I know - except for my parents - tells me I look just fine. And I do. Except my parents have convinced me otherwise.
And so the "normal" body that I strove so hard to achieve has become a source of shame. I know that I'm not fat. I don't consider fat to be a bad thing. But that doesn't matter because thanks to my family I now feel like there's something wrong with me, even though I know otherwise.
I'm still working up to going to therapy because I've started considering not eating again. Not reducing calories - in fact, I don't really eat big portions or snack that much anymore. But I'm so scared of ruining my stomach and digestion again, that my body refuses to comply. Which is a good thing. Now I just have to deal with my mind.