Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body

by Roxane Gay

more often than not, stories of bodies like mine are ignored or dismissed or derided.

there were a great many people in my own life who saw my body before they ever saw or considered me.

Before I was raped. After I was raped.

I did not want anything or anyone to touch me.

This is the reality of living in my body: I am trapped in a cage. The frustrating thing about cages is that you’re trapped but you can see exactly what you want.

I am not comfortable in my body.

My body is a cage. My body is a cage of my own making. I am still trying to figure my way out of it. I have been trying to figure a way out of it for more than twenty years.

I also don’t think there’s any shame in saying that when I was raped, I became a victim, and to this day, while I am also many other things, I am still a victim.

I buried the girl I had been because she ran into all kinds of trouble. I tried to erase every memory of her, but she is still there, somewhere. She is still small and scared and ashamed, and perhaps I am writing my way back to her, trying to tell her everything she needs to hear.

I was broken, and to numb the pain of that brokenness, I ate and ate and ate, and then I was not just overweight or fat.

it is more likely that I can change before this culture and its attitudes toward fat people will change.

I have been silent about my story in a world where people assume they know the why of my body, or any fat body.