This is my first non-fiction book & review of 2026. Hunger has been on my to-read list for a while, since I have struggled with body image issues and disordered eating for a long time.

Fair warning, if you want to read this memoir, it’s pretty heavy. There are discussions of rape, body image issues, eating disorders, and other sorts of depressing things in this book. It’s incredibly vulnerable and raw. To be clear, it is not a self-help book. Hunger does not exist to tell you how you can lose weight or learn to love your body. I still found it worth reading all the same.

Given the subject matter and how it resonates with me, this will probably be one of the most vulnerable book reviews I will ever write.

Gay and I are different in a lot of ways. For one, I cannot point to a specific horrific trauma that caused my weight gain, aside from maybe depression or grief. For two, the heaviest I have been is maybe 260-something pounds. That may seem like a lot to some people and little to others. Like Roxane Gay points out in the beginning of her memoir, I am only human, and I compare myself to other fat people.

Three, I have been blessed with a supportive mother, friends, and partner. I can’t recall the last time I was body shamed by a loved one. My mom has also struggled with weight her whole life, and while she is noticeably thinner than me now, she has always been sympathetic and defended me. I cannot stress how grateful I am for this. I don’t say this to brag, but rather to bring up that many fat people have endured emotional and sometimes physical abuse for existing in their bodies. I am lucky to not be one of them. I am consumed by my own self-loathing, and society’s attitudes as a whole.

Even though Gay and I have different experiences with our body, Hunger resonated with me deeply. Many times I felt like Gay plucked out something from my mind that I struggle to put into words to my loved ones, especially as someone who has been considered fat since adolescence.

Turning to food for brief comfort, only to end the night ashamed and disgusted with yourself. Wanting to change but not being strong or disciplined enough to really lose weight. Avoiding doctor’s visits because you know it will end in you being humiliated by your weight, even when you have obvious problems that need to be addressed and are begged by your loved ones to seek medical attention. Wanting so badly to look cute and feminine but being disgusted by the body you see in the mirror, so you go back to what’s safe. Feeling ashamed of the most mundane things because fat bodies are so constantly scrutinized. Being invisible and yet oh-so-visible, all at the same time. Knowing you shouldn’t care, and not really caring, but still caring so damn much. There’s more I related to, but I’m still too ashamed to share.

One thing Gay brought up that I unexpectedly related to is how out of place she feels in the body positive movement. It’s a feeling I’ve had for a while and didn’t know how to put into words. Again, I am not as big as Gay, but I still feel as though the movement is not for people as big as me. I often feel a discrepancy between myself and fat acceptance. Don’t get me wrong, I support others feeling good about their bodies and fat acceptance as a movement. But I have often seen fat positivity posts and thought, “I don’t like being fat. It kind of sucks. I want to lose weight”. Maybe I have internalized fatphobia or whatever, I don’t know. My point is that I have often felt like an outsider to those movements because I’m not happy with my body, and there are things I don’t like about being fat. Reading Gay put that feeling into words throughout the books felt nice.

What stuck with me most in this book though was the discussion of what eating disorders look like when you’re fat, and how different the experience is. Aside from binge-eating, I have also struggled on and off with bulimia like Gay, along with restricted eating episodes (which are not mentioned in the memoir). I know conceptually there are many other fat people whose eating disorders are invisible or not cared about because of their weight, but seeing my experience in someone else’s words is an entirely different thing. I felt seen and also sad. I hate that we experience this, but it felt better not to be alone. Even when I am not actively in an episode, the thoughts stick with me constantly. I often shamefully regret getting my gallbladder removed. The pain was one of the most awful things I experienced, but I still think “at least I was losing weight”. It’s heartbreaking that so many of us would willingly suffer through sickness and the consequences of eating disorders just to be thin. Worse, like Gay, I know being skinny will not fix my problems, and yet I yearn for it all the same.

I have enjoyed Gay’s writing since high school. I do think some of the chapters could have been condensed, but that’s my personal preference and I enjoyed the writing regardless. I have a couple more Gay books on my Kindle that I’d like to read, one nonfiction and the other a collection of short stories. Since I enjoy Gay’s nonfiction and essays so much, I would also like to experience her fiction writing. Ayiti is definitely on my to-read list, though it might be a while since my new year's resolution was to stick to books I already own. If you can handle the subject matter, I would definitely recommend Gay’s writing.