Fat Girl: A True Story by Judith Moore

by Judith Moore

From an award-winning author comes a darkly riveting, compulsively readable and, at times, heartbreaking memoir by a brilliant writer who is obsessed with food - and with being fat. Fat Girl shares a powerfully honest account of obesity that, until now, no one else has been brave enough to tell, an account that will appeal to the millions of girls and women (and not a few men) who have a love/hate relationship with food and their bodies, and anyone who has knowingly (or unconsciously) used food to try to fill the hole in their heart and soothe the craggy edges of their psyche.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Biography, Autobiography, Biography Memoir, Health, Psychology

Library Binding

First published March 3, 2005

About the author

Librarian's note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Reviews

[Jen Knox · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book should've been condensed into a tight, dynamite essay. There was a heartbreaking but ironic narration that was great at first. But, as a whole book, I began to feel the way I do when I'm watching a comedian onstage telling the same joke again and again, wondering why my drink isn't stronger and whether or not I'll ever get my nachos: restless. I will say that Moore had some beautiful descriptions of food and heartbreaking descriptions of her own body; and I agree with the blurb on the back of the paperback edition that claims her descriptions could "call to mind ... MFK Fisher" but they don't sustain. At least not for me. Self-examination in the form of deprecation turns into self-indulgence quickly in memoirs, and this is a good example.

[Jennifer · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'm thankful that this was a very short book, because I had a lot of difficulty getting through it.

Moore's descriptions of food and her feelings while eating it literally made me sick to my stomach. She certainly has a gift for describing things in a way to make you feel as if you are there with her, but it was just too much for my stomach to handle.

Moore spent endless paragraphs describing insignificant occurences in her early life (toddlerhood through 6th grade) and then breezed through the part where things could have really started getting interesting. (junior high and beyond) While I certainly feel pity for Moore for enduring the abuse that she did, I had a nagging feeling that she embellished the truth...a lot. She claims that her mother beat her endlessly, yet when she had to swim for gym class no one noticed any bruises.

In the end I felt that this book was little more than a pity party, although the author claimed in the beginning that she didn't want to invoke those feelings. I'm so tired of hearing the message "My parents didn't love me, and that's why I'm fat/a slut/addicted to drugs/an alcoholic/etc." I finished this book with the feeling that Moore is incapable of true introspection; that she's already come to the conclusion that it is her parents fault that she is overweight. Moore takes no accountability for her own unhappiness.

[Christina · Rating 4 out of 5]

WOW. This books is funny in parts but mostly sad. I related with the author and sometimes it really bummed me out how alike our feelings towards weight and food were. She describes food in a way that makes me want to run to the store right now and buy tons of comfort food ingredients. Seriously, I have never wanted a pie or biscuits in my whole life and yet the way the author describes the joy she gets from these comfort foods...makes me want to bury my own sorrows in a pile of fatty dough. I don't think that was her intention though=) Other then my intense desire to eat after reading this book I have a better sense of compassion for myself and my body. The author, however, does not. She hates her body and herself and her parents and everyone else in her life who "did her wrong". At times I felt like reaching into the book and telling her to build a bridge and get over it. Life sucks sometimes and we don't have to be bitter to get through it all. Of course, I related to her so much on so many things that I started to understand why she felt the way she does. I'm still digesting this book. It was an easy read and took just a few hours... you should read it. Especially if you aren't fat.

[Sondra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Did you ever read a book that opened up old wounds, but helped you deal with some of your own demons? That is Fat Girl for me. She said things that I felt growing up. I didn't have the same relationship with my mother, but I had a brother who did the same amount of damage. I always wonder why some of us turn to food to fill the empty space, while others have other addictions, or turn completely away from food. I wanted to write to Ms. Moore, but she passed away from colon cancer. I found an interesting comment from one of her daughters. She said that her mother was never as fat as she described herself.

[Beverly · Rating 1 out of 5]

Growing up fat in America, a tale of self-loathing, the self-hatred is so intense, I was horrified.

[Jenn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fat Girl is the incredibly depressing account of an insecure woman's loveless childhood. Quotes on the back cover assure that the depressing subject--growing up fat--will be tempered by dark humor. But the quotes lie. Augusten Burroughs, you are a liar.

This book is 100% depressing, 0% funny. There is no dark humor. There is no intentional humor. There is no unintentional humor. It's just Judith Moore talking dead-pan about her shitty childhood. Chapter One: I Am Abandoned At Age Four, Chapter Two: I Am Molested In a Theater, Chapter Three: My Mother Beats Me With the Clasp End of a Belt All Summer Long, Chapter Four: My Peers Crap All Over Me.

I'm giving this book a 5 because, even though its back-cover advertising is a liar, Fat Girl is a fantastic representation of what it's like to be fat. This book isn't the story of every fat person, to be sure. But it's a nice reminder that fat doesn't happen in a vacuum. Fat is genetics, abuse, diet culture, and the abundance of food that's strategically designed to entice and to sell, sell, sell. Fat will happen in our culture. It just will. It's cruel and pointless to punish fat people, when the problem (if we can call it that) is all of ours.

[Melissa Lee-Tammeus · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book broke my heart. This is an honest memoir of great proportions - this book gives you an inside look at what it means to be a large girl in a world that does not accept you. This is about bad parenting, school bullying, and an insatiable need for comfort, with no apologies, need or want of pity, or whimpering involved. This book especially hurt my heart when the last page explained to me that the author had died. I couldn't help but think how much I wanted to give Ms. Moore a hug, but took comfort in thinking she probably wouldn't want one, as she tells you in the beginning pages that she writes to expunge, not for pity. I only wish she would have known how her book affected me and most likely anyone else who has read it. She lives on in her words . . .

[Julie Tillman-Amador · Rating 4 out of 5]

I actually picked up this book hoping to find some humor in it. Although there was none -- in fact it was black, heart-wrenching, sad, and at times even made me cringe -- I was not disappointed. All of the writing was simple, eloquent and beautiful -- even as the author described the horrendous acts that were happening around her and to her.

I wish, somehow, the author could have found a way to insert some humor into this book. Or at the very least some HOPE. Towards the end of the book she admits that what she needed was love (don't we all), but she states "...by the time I thought of 'love' as an answer, it was too late for love." What I hope that she realizes, and would have acknowledged, is that; as a child, it was not HER responsibility to have found that answer. Luckily, she did have *some* love in her life, though it was obviously not enough with everything else she went through.

It's heartbreakingly sad; as a mother I wished I could hug and love her childhood self, just as she was. She was obviously very bright, and very worthy of love (even her idea of being "bad" is distorted -- she was a good girl). I may not be able to do that, but she has given me a new (or, more accurately, expanded) empathy of "fat" and otherwise self-loathing children. Abused children. Neglected children. No one may have been able to help her, but we can always help another child who is crying out for love.

An excellent book, a quick read, and highly recommended (whether you're fat, thin, or in between). 4.5 stars.

[Chana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Oy gevalt, this one hurts. It is a book I am not likely to forget; it is incredibly sad, and not in a way that makes you cry, it is sad in way that congeals as pain inside you. I wish I could pluck her up as a 4 year old and save her (not from being fat necessarily, but from being so hurt, unhappy and reviled). And it is not just her mother's mother, but also her mother and father. One tries not to blame parents, but please! I've never heard being fat described so thoroughly. Although I haven't been terribly fat, the times I've been 30 to 50 pounds over is enough for me to relate to both her descriptions of the flesh and the food.

[Andrew Vachss · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fat Girl is a black diamond, revealing its hard brilliance only when you accept its invitation to descend into the soul of the loneliest little girl in the world....

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

I understood what this writer was attempting. I got it. I cringed, I sighed, I related to certain things. I just don't think she stuck with it.
She gave us many details about growing up. Occasionally throwing in vulger language to see if you were paying attention. But then suddenly, around the time of high school no less, she gives up! She didnt walk us through high school or collage or even her first marriage. She teases with phrases like "I never understood why he married me, or I why I married him..." or something to that effect. Then she skips her several marriages altogether!
I felt like this book was a great start, and then a total cop out. What the hell happened?

[Lain · Rating 4 out of 5]

It often seems that the only minority that's fair game for discrimination is the overweight. That fact is made uncomfortably clear in "Fat Girl: A True Story" by Judith Moore. Moore shares her life as an overweight, fatherless child -- a life that didn't get much better as she got older, and fatter. I found myself at times repulsed, at times weepingly sorry for her, at times amazed at her bravery. No pity party, though I do think Moore downplayed some of the more interesting elements of her life -- particularly in the area of her writing success and her romances. A gripping, appalling read.

[jalylah · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir is honest, emotionally difficult, and painfully sharp. The author's metaphors/similes are occasionally off putting. She makes reference to confederate blue eyes and a high booty like an african. But other than those moments, when I had to put the book down because the poor choice kicked me out of the narrative, I was with her. You don't feel good reading it but it's certainly an important consideration of loathing and corporeal excess. The author's bafflement and gratefulness towards any expression of kindness and constant expectation of disdain made me commit to checking my own sometimes low self-regard.

[Lindsay · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book was painful and lame. It's hard to do both. Judith Moore made it sound like if you're obese, that's all you think about all of the time, and it completely controls your life. I know a lot of obese people who are not like that at all, and so it didn't ring true.

Also, there were pages and pages where she just describes what she eats, and she describes it tritely. It made me feel bored out of my mind, and sick. I loathed the experience of reading this book.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was so much better than I expected. It isn't as much about being fat as it is about the permanent damage a psychotic, unhappy parent can inflict upon an unwanted child. And a child that has problems to begin with. As Moore herself admits "There was more wrong with me than just being fat". Sadly, Moore died from colon cancer in 2006. I found myself hoping she'd had a happy life as an adult. Having said all that, this book has the same problem all "used to be fat" memoirs have: following the party line of Thin People Have No Heartaches. Not true. Also, if the evidence of my own eyes is correct, this type of memoir is now obsolete. So many people are hugely obese that it has become the norm. Especially outside of urban enclaves. And kids? Holy crap, there used to be maybe one fat kid in a class of thirty when I was growing up. Now it's at least half. Far too many for any one to be singled out. I could go on and on about this subject. If a kid came to school skeletal and starved, Social Services would be called. But, if you speak to the parents because the kid is morbidly obese, you're a racist. Or an elitist. You just don't understand! Sad.

[Becky Pliego]

A hard story to read. Hate and hunger meet and the void they create is immense.

[Geenah · Rating 3 out of 5]

In Fat Girl, Judith Moore gives us insight into her experiences growing up in the '40s - 50's while being fat. Unsurprisingly, children can be cruel. Surprisingly for well-adjusted people and unsurprisingly for the rest of us, adults (and often caretakers) can be the worst bullies.

I grew up and still am considered fat, so I wanted to read this to see maybe some of my own experiences reflected back to me. Careful for what you wish for, I guess. Man, where some parts triggering! I've never struggled with food addiction, but the inability to lose weight despite your best effort? And people not believing that you've been putting in the effort? Oh, and the subtle (a lot of time unintentional) confirmations that the people closest to you secretly think you're unattractive? I broke down and cried at some parts of this book.

A lot of blurbs describe this book as "angry" and while I don't wholly disagree, I think it's too simplistic of an adjective. There was anger, sure, but there was also a lot of sadness, loneliness, and disappointed served up in equal measure.

Despite the things I did connect with that moved me, I didn't enjoy a lot of outdated, racist language the author used. I think this was more due to the author being a product of her time and not actually that the author is racist. But, come one, this was published in 2005 and you're referring to Asian people as "Orientals?" Get outta here with that. She also made damn sure to mention multiple times that the man who killed his family was Puerto Rican. Once was enough. If you're not mentioning every other terrible person's race or ethnicity every time you mention them, then you don't need to do it when referring to a minority.

[Nathan Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

Her descriptions are vividly disturbing. She makes it clear right off the bat that there is no redemption in her story; in fact, I'm not sure what she was seeking to accomplish in this book. One of the last lines in the book is "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I do not feel sorry for myself. I am what I am." It is a very wretched book.

This reminds me of several passages from Jim Wilson's "How to Be Free from Bitterness." I truly wish I could have shared this with Judith. Allow me to quote at length:

"Guilt is what we feel when we sin, and bitterness is what we feel when others sin against us. The very definition of bitterness points to the action of another. If we had committed the offense, we would feel guilty and would know that we had to confess and forsake our sin.
"We might not confess the sin, but not because we did not know what to do. But what do we do with the guilt of others? Bitterness is always based upon someone else’s sin—whether real or imagined."

...

"Introspection is not like walking in the sunlight on a summer day. Instead, it is like going down dungeon steps with a flickering candle in your hand. You have a tiny light that throws long shadows and dimly shows skeletons, spiderwebs, and gross, crawly things.
"These skeletons are things in our past which have been done to us or which we have done and are ashamed of. They also include our imagination. A person who is addicted to introspection keeps going
deeper into this dead, tomb-like dungeon, or inspects the same skeletons over and over again. The candle is not a very good light and never has a solution to this awful, macabre past. The fascination with this subject matter is never a source of joy. It is a cause of depression. It is probably the major cause of depression in people with melancholic, perfectionist personalities.
"Introspection says things like this: 'How awful!' 'How gross!' 'The Lord won’t have me now.' 'If I
were God, I would not forgive me.'
"Introspection is a downer, not an upper. Introspection is accusative, not convicting."

...

"What happens to a person if he keeps bitterness on the inside for many years? What happens to him physically? Can he get physically sick? Suppose it is bitterness toward some member of the family. He has not shared it. He has not defiled many people—he has kept it down inside. When he keeps it in for some years, he finally begins to hurt. He goes to the doctor and the doctor says, 'You are right, you are sick. But your sickness is not the kind I deal with. I am going to send you to the other kind of doctor.'
"So he sends him to the psychiatrist, and the psychiatrist agrees. 'Yes, you are sick all right. And I know why you are sick. You are sick because of 20 years of bitterness towards your father. You have kept it suppressed all these years and it’s just rotted out your insides. You have kept this poison within, and this acid on the inside has made you just physically ill. So what I want you to do is to go home and share it with your father. Why keep it in and get sick? Let it out. Get everybody else sick.'
"So the world has two solutions. Keep the bitterness in and make yourself
sick, or let it out and spread the sickness around. God’s solution is to dig up the
root. Get rid of it. But this takes the grace of God. A man must know the Lord Jesus
Christ to be able to do this. He is the source of grace."

[Sarah · Rating 2 out of 5]

fat girl: a true story by judith moore. i was pretty displeased with this book. it was mostly about her shit childhood (created by the fact that she was fat) but her fatness seemed almost incidental to everything else. the author was a nea and guggenheim winner, but, of course, i thought the writing was commonplace and uninspired. i didn't want to finish the book, but of course i did. but, here's two passages of note:
... a white Chrysler convertible, top down, sped south, toward me. Four boys were in teh convertible, college boys is what they looked like, and probably were. A grin spread across the face of teh boy in the front passenger seat and I knew something was coming. "Oink, oink, oink," he squealed. HIs companions joined him, "Oink, oink, oink." And, a two-fingered high-pitched whistle and "Sooey, sooey, pig." Then they were gone ... This was not the first time in my life that someone had called out to me, "Sooey, sooey, pig." I was used to being called names, and in a way, I had--and have--ceased to care that people did and do this
see, people DO shout things at fat people. you think i'm lying but i'm not. but i totally do not believe that the author stopped caring what people shouted at her. sure, maybe she's a better person than i am, but it always has and always will hurt and i will always care.
When you are fat, you are fat every day. But you do not feel fat every day. You look fat, and everyone who looks at you sees a fat girl. And yet you are surprised that everyone sees you as fat. Every time you feel pretty, the spell is broken, either you see yourself in a mirror or some boy screams"Pig Face" or a pretty girl looks at you and then looks away and you see sadness in her eyes or you see disgust and dismay.
so true. and this is why i hate going out to meet people. while i'm getting ready, i can trick myself that i look okay, but then i do that final look in the mirror, and then have to stand in front of a wall mirror while i wait for the elevator, and i realize that i am FAT. and that i look horrible. and that i will never, never, never look good--to anyone, even those who care about me--as long as i am this fat

[Audrey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow, just wow! What a powerful book! It's not a very long book but it is full of such insight and parts of it touched my heart and I understood alot of what she was trying to say about hunger.

This is a memoir by Judith Moore of her childhood spent as a fat girl, starved for love and affection. She is brutally honest in this book not only about her horrible mother and neglectful father but also about herself and her reactions to the world around her.

She talks about how being fat really makes her invisible because people around her just don't want to see her and she how tries very hard to stay invisible.

She writes about her love/hate relationship with food and some of her stories about her overeating and why she did it are just heartbreaking.

I was moved by this book and understood some of it, she is angry alot in the book and makes no apology for it, in fact at the end of the book she writes that she does not want pity that she wanted to write it down just to get it out in the open.

[Melanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know how to rate this one. On one hand, some parts were so true it was painful to listen to them (I listened to the audiobook), and on the other hand, sometimes the listing of foods, the whining, was a bit too much. But then she would say something true and raw and painful and it would make me want to cry for her and for me and for all the other little fat girls. So on one hand, I'd like to give it many stars for being brutally, disgustingly honest - and I'd also like to not give it any stars for the same thing, because it was difficult to "read" and sometimes got annoying. I'd only recommend this if you yourself are a fat girl and you want a quick self-pity read.

[Linda Lipko · Rating 4 out of 5]

Raw, blunt, and, there is nothing sugar coated about the writing and life of [[Judith Moore]]. Often as I read it, I wanted to put it down and cry. When I finished I admired the courage it took to write such a honest tale of a little girl, unloved by both parents, abandoned by each parent at varying times in her life, she fought her weight, then gave in to luscious eating patterns.

Called fatso, fatty, ugly, piggy wiggy and a host of other brutal swearing comments, from the early age through college she knew she would never fit in. Periodically there were a friend or two, but they were rare, and the author wondered what redeeming quality she possessed that would allow one person to care for her.

[Megan Mason]

Wow. This was a deeply saddening story that gives some better insight into what it is like to live without the knowledge of the love of God.

[Whitney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Such a shocking and heartbreaking story!

I often steer clear of memoirs and autobiographies because it's hard for me to read about the struggles and emotional issues that people have had to deal with in their lives. (If I read something that's hard to digest in fiction, I can always tell myself, "It's not real. It's not real." But that's not the case with nonfiction, and that's pretty sucky.) This book was no exception.
It was difficult reading...like really difficult.

Moore's childhood was so incredibly upsetting and tumultuous and heartbreaking. There were so many times while reading Fat Girl that I wanted to climb through the pages of the book and give Moore the biggest hug ever and not let go.

Her writing is real and honest and it's like a repetitive punch in the gut. I admire the hell out of her for exposing her life to readers the way that she did, knowing that they would be judging her as harshly as everyone she's ever met in real life has judged her. I honestly do not think I could expose myself like that to countless strangers and be okay with it; people are too harsh and unforgiving. And her story is a VERY detailed, personal account of her life, specifically her awful, awful childhood.

For everyone who has criticized this book and claimed that Moore has elaborated or stretched the truth while telling her story (because I have actually read reviews on GR where people have had the nerve to claim that, if you can even believe it), I'll just say this: If you don't feel absolutely horrible and sad and torn up after reading this book, then you should probably see a psychologist as quickly as possible because you might be lacking a heart and a conscience, and that's a big problem.
To accuse someone of playing the pity card simply because they had a "rough" childhood or fibbing in order to get better reviews for their book or just generally exaggerating because they feel that they are entitled to do so is horrifying.
Shame on you.
People like Moore ARE entitled to feel sorry for themselves if they want to; they've gone through a lot of shit and have managed to endure and overcome--something I'm pretty sure I would not be able to do. It takes a very particular person to say what Moore has said, and we, as readers, should be thankful that there are people out there who are willing to open themselves up like this so that we can learn a lesson about being good, decent people. (Okay. I'm stepping down from my soapbox, I swear.)

All Moore ever wanted was love and acceptance and the chance to fit in. It was heartbreaking having to read about the mean kids and mean teachers and the mean men and the disgusting pervert and the sick, sick, sick mother and grandmother. I hope those people read this book and feel like shit--I really do. In my opinion, that's what you deserve if you have ever done and said the things that were described in this book.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the opulent descriptions of food found throughout much of this book. I don't think it's very shocking that a book with the title Fat Girl is going to have so many descriptive details about food. It's pretty par for the course. But man, oh, man can this woman describe food.
Moore put so much consideration into her descriptions of food that I constantly found myself craving something--anything--to eat. I can honestly say that I ate more while reading this book than I ever have. (I try not to eat and read at the same time because I inevitably end up spilling something on the pages and ruining the book, which upsets me because I pride myself on keeping my books in pristine condition.) I'm not sure if this was a normal reaction, but I'm telling myself it is so I can feel better about myself haha.

If there's one thing I learned from this book, it's that different people have different ways of looking at and thinking about food. I think Moore chose to describe food in the way that she did so readers would understand that for people like her, food is something to be admired and desired as much as it is hated and feared. I can see why, now, people refer to it as a "love/hate" relationship. To me, the worst part about food addiction/eating disorders is that unlike drugs and alcohol, you need food in order to survive; you cannot simply go without it and avoid it like you would a bar if you were an alcoholic or a dealer if you were a drug addict. You have to have it every single day, and so all interactions with it are dangerous.

I'll end on this: I truly hope that Moore finds happiness in her life.
She's in her 70s now, from what I can gauge from the author's note at the end of the book, and it doesn't sound like she has experienced much happiness yet.
And that makes me really sad. She deserves it, even if it does come later in her life. We all do.

[Maddie Chyczij · Rating 1 out of 5]

Hated this!

A book that starts off with a long description about how she “doesn’t have an eating disorder” and then proceeds to describe an entire life of obsession, dreams, and longing for food, while yo yo dieting…

Babe. That’s an eating disorder.

Listen, I’m not expecting a scientific description in a memoir. But this was just utter garbage. The lack of self awareness is staggering. As a fat girl I was honestly so hurt and offended for Judith as to how she thinks about herself. And while it is incredibly sad for her, it’s also harmful as fuck to the reader. The idea that a single person could agree with her viewpoint of the world is painful.

Who is this for??? Not for us fat girls that’s for sure. Her descriptions of food and bodies are disgusting. Written with no love for herself or others, and a really unhealthy relationship to food. I wanted to hug her for awhile, until I honestly just wanted to shake some sense into her. Should have left it in your therapists office Judith.

Nope 100% to this book. HAAAAATED it.

[Katie Kenig · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is absolutely heartbreaking. I feel all raw and vulnerable and sensitized after reading it.



This memoir is non-apologetic. Moore isn't looking for sympathy or understanding, she didn't make any great discoveries or overcome her pain. She just wants to tell her story. And her story is achingly sad.

Moore was a fat girl, growing up. Her father left when she was only four, and her childhood became incredibly difficult. She was unwanted, and unloved. She began to hate herself, because if her parents and grandparents didn't want her, if they didn't love her, why should she love herself? In search of something to fill that huge, empty void inside of herself, she began to eat. And it's as though once she made that decision, she couldn't come back. Her body wouldn't let her, even when she tried to lose weight, even when she starved herself, her body wouldn't respond. She watched kids at school eat the foods she wanted, and even resorted into stealing food to try to comfort herself.



Once she started school, of course, kids were cruel. I went through a lot of very similar bullying, because I was a fat kid, too. I know how it feels, which is probably why I had such a visceral reaction to the book.



This book is a little hard to read, at least for the soft-hearted. It is well-written, though I wish that she had gone into the teenage years with as much depth as she treated her grammar school years.

The saddest part for me is that even as an adult, the author never worked through her self-hatred. I go through periods of it, but not with the viciousness with which she treats herself. And she's passed away since finishing the book, which means she isn't going to get to a self-love place in her life, which is a very sad footnote. She even mentions, toward the end of the book, the fact that one of her daughters is one of those women who can eat whatever she wants and barely exercise and still is thin. I wanted to shake her and tell her to stop comparing herself, but... I know how hard that is.

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

If I had followed my degreed career path and became a teacher, I would have made my students read this, male or female. From the opening line about how the author is not going to apologize for being fat or try to explain it, she sets the tone for what would be a direct, often angry account of her life. Who better to understand the self conscious than adolescents whether they have weight issues or not.

Over the course of this quick, short read, you learn about Moore's chaotic childhood. Coming from parents who had issues in their own right, she became a literal product of her environment. Forced to move in with a mean grandmother after her parent's divorce, she was fed lies about her father and his lack of interest in her and basically ignored unless abused. Moving back in with her mother proved even worse and she was placed on yoyo diets by her unstable, selfish mother who kept telling her daughter that she (Mom) never accomplished anything in life and yet still managed to get a PhD. Moore learned to keep to herself and allow all the taunts of childhood and later adulthood without giving it back which is significant. Unfortunately she was giving all those taunts back to herself instead and compounding the obesity.

In some works, consistently holding an angry tone might alienate a reader, not here. I guess you could say the work is angry where it needs to be. Moore doesn't wallow in negativity, just shows us it when it's warranted. I think it would make anyone remember that we all have our own burdens in life and to lighten up on our treatment of each other.

[Nitya · Rating 2 out of 5]

I picked this book expecting a story of growing up fat, and perhaps staying fat, but finding a way to be happy and sassy, like the woman I knew who wore a button proclaiming "how dare you presume I'd rather be thin?" Kathy was a fat activist, unlike the author of this book, who tells you in the beginning that this is not a tale of being fat and happy, or of losing weight and being happy. It is, simply, a story about what it was like growing up, and then being grown-up, and being obese. We all know what that means in our society where sizeism permeates everything. The author makes no excuses, though she does reveal a lot of unhappiness and a great deal of abuse from her mother. There are lots of descriptions of food in a rather tantalizing way, not surprising, given the self-described love affair with food.One thing I did get from this book, is the importance of unconditional love, and when the author finally gets it, from her mother's brother, I was so happy for her. Who knows, maybe it saved her life. It reminded me, just a tad, of the book Push, by Sapphire, in that the girl was so alone, friendless, and with an abusive parent who always berated her. In the midst of such utter loneliness, when someone looks at you and cares about you for who you are, not what you look like, it can change your life. I, for one, would like to see our culture lose its insane focus on appearances.

[Luna · Rating 4 out of 5]

This memoir is so much more than growing up fat- it's about a lack of love, of terrible abuse and a need to find acceptance. Throughout the whole story, I was hoping that Judith Moore found what she was looking for as an adult, but given some of the few passages she wrote about her adult life, it doesn't seem to be the case. Some people have mentioned that certain aspects don't add up- swimming classes and her mother's alleged abuse- which does give me something to think about.

All the same, this is a good book to read, if only because it's so far beyond the other pity party memoirs out there. Moore is frank and harsh, but she refuses to wallow in her misery and keeps pushing on. She admits at points that perhaps she led herself into certain situations, though for the most part her life was out of her hands. It's also a short read, which is typically a thumbs up for me when it comes to autobiographies. Your life isn't that interesting.

[Amy Casey · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir, in nearly every single paragraph of its 196 pages, discusses the reality of being "fat." It's billed as a memoir about being persistently overweight and what it was like to grow up as such. But this isn't really a book about being fat. It's a book about being unloved. Moore tackles the harsh truths of her abusive, humiliating, toxic upbringing with a startling objectivity, that seems almost impossible in an autobiographical scenario. Through her voice lingers the hardening and apathy that can't help accompany an entire childhood where one eventually feels more like a "heavy piece of dull rock" than a human. It's the story of a woman whom life did not do right by, not even a little bit. And while that fact had something to do with being fat, most of it had more to do with hurt, poverty, and irresponsible adults with misplaced anger. Seeing that Moore passed away just months after the book's publication was the final blow to this punching bag of a read. I hope she found the heaven that she felt she would never deserve.