An unflinching and deeply reported look at the realities of binge-eating disorder from a rising culture commentator and writer for Vogue.
Millions of us use restrictive diets, intermittent fasting, IV therapies, and Ozempic abuse to shrink until we are sample-size acceptable. But for the 30 million Americans who live with eating disorders, it isn’t just about less. More, Please is a chronicle of a lifelong fixation with food—its power to soothe, to comfort, to offer a fleeting escape from the outside world—as well as an examination of the ways in which compulsory thinness, diet culture, and the seductive promise of “wellness” have resulted in warping countless Americans’ relationship with healthy eating.
Melding memoir, reportage, and in-depth interviews with some of the most prominent and knowledgeable commentators currently writing about food, fatness, and disordered eating—Jennifer Weiner, Marisa Meltzer, Virgie Tovar, Leslie Jamison, and others—Emma Specter explores binge-eating disorder as both a personal problem and a societal one. In More, Please, she provides a context, a history, and a language for what it means to always want more than you’ll allow yourself to have.
I really liked this memoir about binge eating disorder and anti-fat bias in society overall. Emma Specter does a great job of writing about her struggles with binge eating in a way that feels real and raw without glorifying the disorder. My sense is that many eating disorder memoirs focus on more of the restrictive/anorexic side of disordered eating, so it’s refreshing – though of course sad and harrowing – to read about Specter’s journey. At the same time, I appreciated and resonated with her hard-won path toward self-acceptance and coming to cherish her body. From following and learning from fat influencers to figuring out what types of movement make her feel good about herself, Specter includes a lot of wisdom in these pages. She acknowledges the intersections of anti-fat bias and anti-Black racism, as well as other forms of oppression too.
On a writing level I don’t think this was the perfect memoir. Sometimes the blend of memoir and interviewing other people didn’t always read spectacularly, and Specter does use a fair amount of long sentences (something I think I can tend towards too, so…) Still, as someone who’s had an eating disorder in the past and is intentional about my recovery and relationship with food every day, it’s nice to read about another person’s healing journey, amidst all the societal anti-fat bs.
I appreciated Specter’s bravery and honesty in sharing her journey with binge eating disorder, body acceptance, and queerness. In More Please, Specter gives the reader a detailed report of her past and current struggles with her own personal acceptance of who she really is—manifested mostly in the realm of her physicality. For her, the diet culture she felt herself surrounded in played a huge part in her barrier to self-acceptance and obsession with thinking about her body. Gaining weight alongside coming out helped her to come to terms with acceptance.
I related strongly to Emma as she described liking herself after gaining and maintaining a higher weight. I don’t advocate for people to do this or to get on the body positivity/fat acceptance train so to speak. However, it was nice to “meet” someone who experienced the same thing I did.
A loose mix of memoir, interviews with other and general reporting, this book examines one woman’s experience with an eating disorder and a fixation on food that has existed much of her life, and then also looks at weight and disordered eating as a societal issue.
The book is an interesting perspective as the author has spent years working in the fashion industry (most recently for Vogue.). After years of struggle she ultimately gave up her battle to be stick thin and allowed herself to gain weight. It is so disheartening to see how much she still struggles, though, It is somewhat surprising that she has been successful in fashion. She references many books which would be helpful to those seeking to make a deeper, more scholarly dive into the subject.
So much to say! But, I’ll keep it brief. It took me a month to read this 190 page book. It was about a subject that deeply interests me. It was recommended by Frank Bruni, my favorite New York Times writer. However, many things about this book put me off. The author composes very rambling sentences. She is writing about her own recent life experience as though three years past is the same as three decades past. As a reader much older than is the author, this point of view was irritating. I kept thinking sweetie, you really have not lived enough to have a clear perspective on your own life. I guess overall as a mature woman who has struggled with food, appetite and body image my whole life I found her claims of self-acceptance to be quaint. She’s got a whole life to get through. I sure can’t say, don’t read this book. Read it. Enjoy learning about another human’s experiences, but don’t expect this to be any sort of guidepost for ways to conquer issues related to eating.
In More, Please Specter unflinchingly lays bare her relationship with food and her body, focusing specifically on self-harm in the form of binge-eating. Specter explores the origin and the development of her eating disorder, her feelings regarding living with a life-long diagnosis, societal expectations on peoples’ bodies, and how eating disorders are not just a personal problem. Blending memoir with investigative journalism, More, Please is a must-read that is piercing, witty, and insightful.
Writer Emma Specter (b. 1993) has struggled with her relationship with food from her adolescence to the present time, her early 30s. During her 20s and into today, she struggles with binge eating disorder (BED). More, Please is largely a memoir, recounting Specter's own journey with food and body image thus far, her stop-and-start attempts at losing weight, seeking support, and accepting her now-larger body size, reflections on influential books she's read on addiction and disordered eating, and some interviews with other people who have similar struggles. I think it's a book she needed to write for her own mental health and well-being, and may be a help to others who have similar struggles.
I personally had very mixed feelings on this book. It's clear that Specter is still in the throes of BED as she writes this . She's also 30-31 years old right now - so young. It would be interesting to see her revisit this topic once she's somewhat older.
Although as a rule I avoid books about a subject with which I have personal experience, Emma Specter’s More, Please is one of many dealing with something I do know/care about: weight loss - not diet books, but those describing someone’s struggle to get thin[ner]. Like most American women of my era I have constantly wanted to lose weight** and am attracted to accounts by others who have dealt with that same desire. It won’t be much of a spoiler to reveal that the writer concludes that she has a disease (binge eating disorder) which makes its victim fat, and that with the help of many sessions with nutritionists, therapists, and psychologists, she’s found that she’s happier living with her illness than devoting her life to fighting it. Sadly, although she states explicitly that “This is part of the fundamental irony of eating disorders, or maybe just of existing in a body; what everyone else sees on the outside bears little to no resemblance to what you feel yourself to be on the inside” the rest of the book is focused on how she looks on the outside. That said, it is well-written* and will likely appeal to many veterans of the battle.
*“diet ice cream that tastes like Splenda-sweetened snow” “a woman whose insistence on reexplaining portion sizes in all of our sessions made me feel (a) stupid and (b) insane"
**insofar as it’s relevant, speaking objectively I have never been fat
This book was really hard for me to get through, not because of the subject matter but I think in part because of the writing style. Lots and lots of really long sentences, filled with parentheses, semicolons, and hyphens to add more info. Some paragraphs were just one sentence. I truly appreciated and respected the author’s experiences and perspectives, but this was a tough slog to finish.
Incisive, thoughtful and well-reported memoir about what it’s like to live in a body and all the baggage that comes along with it. Give Emma her flowers!
I recognize it’s Scrooge vibes to give a negative review with a book about this topic. All I can say is that it reads like Hannah Horvath wrote a memoir about binge eating.
I am really torn about this book and seen as it's a personal memoir, I want to be respectful towards the author, her struggles and her work describing what she has been through. Honestly, though, I did not like this book.
To begin with, this whole book contains very long sentences, many references and abstracts from interviews and articles, that make it read more like a college paper or thesis rather than a memoir.
As someone who has struggled with BED and body image issues, I can relate to a lot of what Specter describes in the book. What kept gnawing at me, however, is the fact that BED is mentioned again and again and again without going into the background, science or possible treatment for it. Throughout the entire book, Specter mentions binging constantly, varying in frequency depending on where she is in her life, and up until the present moment. Yet, she never goes into exploring why she binges, and how she actively tries to eradicate it (besides mentioning therapy but how exactly did that help?). As I was reading the book, I kept feeling as if she somehow accepted the binging and the constant weight gain that accompanied the ED and instead focused on trying to feel good about 'being fat'. Even when she clearly states that she recognizes that the weight gain was caused mostly directly from the binge eating.
Throughout the book, there is also a lot of mentioning of the queer community, which Specter is a member of, and the struggles she faced while dating. She mentions multiple times how she longed for a partner and feared ending up single, and in the end, mentions how finding the right partner helped her feel better about her body. I respect that and am glad to read she found a partner that accepts and loves her, of course, but I kept getting the idea that she was waiting for somebody out there to finally love her for who she is until she could finally learn to accept herself, even partially. That hurts, because this sort of inner work is a crucial part of ED recovery, as well as self-acceptance, and should not depend on whether you find someone to love you before you start to love yourself. I guess I felt like she put accepting and loving herself on hold until someone else could do it for her first.
I agree on all accounts of discriminating or disrespecting someone based on their size, whether that is small or large- that should absolutely not be normalised or tolerated. However, when health issues are involved (for instance when she mentions getting a COVID-19 vaccine sooner based on her BMI or while quoting fat-activists like Virgie Tovar, who are actively trying to completely disconnect weight to any health issues or risks), that's truly where I draw the line. Having a medical background, i can not ignore how obesity has been irrevocably and repeatedly linked to adverse health effects. Now, does that mean that a doctor should link any and every symptom someone presents with to weight? Absolutely not. Nor does it mean that someone who is overweight should be treated with less respect or should not be evaluated as extensively at a doctor's office. However, referencing people who lean heavily into the Health At Every Size (HAES) movement to me is not fair and, quite frankly, can even be dangerous. This doesn't mean that trying to be as small as you can, starving yourself or working out just to burn calories should be applauded-that is disordered behavior and part of the problem. However, recognizing how gaining a big amount of weight can be physically, physiologically and hormonally bad for you, is simply necessary. The only mention of anything health-related in this book, is Specter's relationship to exercise, despite her weight. She mentions how she enjoys various types of exercise despite now being 'fat', and how she now exercises more that she ever has before, even when she was thin. This, of course, is wonderful in and of itself, because everyone deserves to have a form of exercise they enjoy. However, there is no other mention of how being overweight can negatively impact your health at all; it is simply all linked to how someone looks (either being smaller of bigger in size) and how that should all be okay. Another example: Specter critiques the movie 'Brittany runs a marathon' at some point (it follows a female lead that starts out overweight, drinking heavily, smoking and never exercising to then deciding to start running and ends up running the marathon of NYC). Specter talks about how beautiful it is she found running and accomplished such an amazing goal but she wishes Brittany could have just stayed fat and ran the marathon without losing weight in the process. However, the fact that Brittany has incredibly unhealthy and harming habits and even visits a doctor in the very beginning of the movie, who yes, mentions to her that her BMI is too high but also points out an elevated resting heart rate, hypertension and a fear of fatty liver disease, isn't mentioned. Why is losing weight and getting healthier in this criticized and not seen as a results of altering one's unhealthy lifestyle choices? Why isn't it a good thing her body responded to her new way of life by losing some weight, clearly pointing out that the weight was therefore a direct result of a collection of unhealthy lifestyle choices that would have led to multiple healthcare risks?
Overall, I really do respect her story and how honestly Specter describes her struggles with BED and her body image, but this book was not what i expected or hoped at all.
A wonderful book! Expertly weaves in personal anecdotes with insightful, frank and intersectional theses. This really forced me to look at myself in a different way and to ask difficult questions. Who will I be without self hatred? When will loving myself stop feeling like such a task?
Some quotes that really stood out to me:
“I think we have to admit our national obsession with being small isn’t just some tragic holdover from the aughts; it’s affirmation of white supremacist, cis-heteropatriarchal notions about physical appearance and intrinsic worth”(40)
“Throughout my own adolescence fat was the third rail; it was the thing I was taught to pity and disdain, the one thing I knew I couldn’t be if I wanted to be loved” (40)
“There is so much that fatphobia stands ready and waiting to take from us if we don’t receive the support we need to fight back against it; I still grieve the things I lost to its insidious presence in my life, even as I refuse to give up even more” (142)
“How are we supposed to demand more from our friends, from our partners, from our bosses, from ourselves, when the world continually reminds us our bodies are obstacles, not vehicles?” (153)
“Knowing something and feeling it are two different things” (161)
“There is nothing whatsoever about my fat body or yours that precludes the possibility of genuine joy brought about through whatever form or movement or interaction with the outside word you love most”(166)
I appreciated the author's honesty and authenticity in relaying her experience. However, I found myself bored easily with the tale and ended up skipping to the last chapter just to wrap it up.
In this “hybrid memoir-in-interviews,” Vogue culture writer Emma Specter blends her own struggles with binge eating and body image with the voices of prominent body-positive writers, including Carmen Maria Machado and Roxane Gay, to show how representation can be a healing agent. “The fat influencers and artists and writers and actors and musicians I sought out on social media when I first began to exceed the sizes that most stores kept in stock (or even manufactured) provided the road map that pointed me toward my current identity as a fat, mostly happy, out-and-proud dyke and decidedly fat-positive human being,” she writes. The author takes readers through relatable phases of her life in chapters titled “Watch,” about how so many girls learn from media presentations what the “ideal body” looks like; “Gorge,” detailing the struggles of living with binge-eating disorder; “Move,” about finding joy through exercise of all kinds, not just the calorie-burning forms. Specter dives deep into her personal experience, but she never loses track of the far-reaching, societal factors that contribute to and arise out of diet culture and the shaming of fat bodies. “At a certain point,” she writes, “when we’re still selling diet plans to kids and rewarding grown women for fitting into sample sizes, I think we have to admit that our national obsession with being small isn’t just some tragic holdover from the aughts; it’s affirmation of white supremacist, cis-heteropatriarchal notions about physical appearance and intrinsic worth.” Though the author covers a lifetime of body image issues, her emphasis on the difficulty of the pandemic years for disordered eating is a fresh, timely take, which readers of all sizes can appreciate. An inspiring personal account of living with an eating disorder and finding joy in a fat body.
I always try to be careful with memoirs because these books are personal and I want to be respectful. This book just wasn't it for me. I wasn't ever quite sure what the point of telling her story was. She was a stressed out person who wanted to fit in. She starved herself and then during covid binged. Oh yeah, and she was gay. Throw in a a bunch of "motivating" "you're good enough because I'm happy and I won't be ashamed" sentiment at the very end and vuala. I found a little information from the book, no inspiriation, I finished off with very little interest in the author, and was thankful the book was over. She's just not my jam--and it had nothing to do with weight or food. She just wasn't inspiring.
Based on the description I thought this would be a glance into the world of EDs with like facts and studies, insights, etc. This is very much this woman's personal memoir. Had it not been a audiobook I would have DNFed. I feel bad about ever rating someone's personal experience so low but after rereading the summary, I think I'm being more than fair. This could have just been a livejournal entry. Lol
realistically it’s probably 3 stars but i am very inspired by someone sharing openly about the most shameful parts of their internal struggles. reading this made me feel like someday i could do the same!!! but that is extremely courageous so we’ll see. slightly repetitive in nature, but so is dealing with an ED so i guess thats fair lol. lots of references to other books/authors/research if you’re interested in diving further into the topic, obviously a huge tw if reading about ED/food/body image is triggering for you
me gusto como entreteje ensayo con autobiografía con citas de libros que no conozco, que me gustan y autoras diversas, diseca bien algunas de las cosas que cruzan al cuerpo, la percepción de este cómo normal, gordo, del ejercicio, género, sexualidad y como se relacionan
This was a well written, thoughtful book that dives deep into eating disorders, weight loss and gain, self-confidence, isolation, and coming into one's queer identity. The reality of it all -- moving goal posts, getting what you wanted making some things better but the disappointment of it not necessarily changing things you want changed. Specter deftly references just the right art, music, interviews, book quotes, articles to illustrate the right feeling and moment and I was with her the whole time.
it's always tough to rate/review memoirs, because i can't possibly rate the validity of someone's life experience. in rating this as a book, though, i had some issues.
firstly, i found the structure to be a little bit lacking. we are given a chronological recounting of emma specter's entire life, arranged in themed chapters like "lose" and "move." i love the concept of the theming, but it often felt like it was working against the flow of time, which made it feel shoehorned in. the most vibrant pieces of the memoir to me (by far) were the passages about eating disorders & covid — an intersection that absolutely deserves more discussion. i almost wish the scope of this book had been more contained. i think a researched-memoir like this focusing specifically on specter's time in covid (and disordered eating trends during lockdown in general) would have been a hit.
it was really refreshing and affirming to read about someone else's experience with binge eating disorder. it sucks, and it's nice to see representation. it's especially nice to hear from someone who doesn't also experience bulimia. it feels like so often we only see media depictions that combine the two, but they are independent disorders with independent patterns.
the parallels specter draws between queer identity and disordered eating were really interesting, but ... by the second half of this book, specter's writing began to feel rather preach-y. it felt like they were holding my hand and telling me how to feel about myself, my body, and my journey — and their perspective didn't always align with mine, which made it tough to connect as a reader. i'm a steadfast believer in more discussions about disordered eating forever & always. and no two people's experiences will ever be identical. i just wish this had felt a little less like a self-help book and a little more like a personal memoir.
Snoooore. Never has a writer shown less curiosity about their subject. She doesn't do any research, doesn't look into the science behind binging or any eating disorders, doesn't ask interesting questions. She invokes Lindy West and Aubrey Gordon and Roxanne Gay--I suggest reading those incredible writers, who have energy and curiosity and anger and all sorts of interesting thoughts.