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Full of Myself: Black Womanhood and the Journey to Self-Possession
In this vulnerable exploration of personal identity, the New York Times bestselling author of I’m Still Here chronicles her efforts to live as her full self in a society that wants women—and Black women in particular—to do anything but that.
At the height of her success as an antiracism educator and writer, Austin Channing Brown reached a crossroads. “I love my work,” she writes, “and I am tired. Tired of protesting. Tired of ‘saving democracy.' Tired of expending all the energy it takes to bust out of America’s tiny boxes.” She began to ask, “What do I deserve, not just as a citizen but as a human?”
Full of Myself is her answer to that question. Weaving personal narrative with perceptive social commentary, she offers a look at the mechanisms that limit who Black women are allowed to be—at work, at home, in community—and the defining moments when she decided that all the women within her should be free. From skinny dipping in the ocean to becoming a mom, she delves into the drama of life and invites women to begin defining themselves not by the tiny boxes handed to us, but as a people born free—free in spirit, free in hope, free in joy.
For women seeking to understand the true roots of their burnout, or anyone wondering what it means to live joyfully in a hostile world, Full of Myself is a breath of fresh air and an invitation to full humanity.
At the height of her success as an antiracism educator and writer, Austin Channing Brown reached a crossroads. “I love my work,” she writes, “and I am tired. Tired of protesting. Tired of ‘saving democracy.' Tired of expending all the energy it takes to bust out of America’s tiny boxes.” She began to ask, “What do I deserve, not just as a citizen but as a human?”
Full of Myself is her answer to that question. Weaving personal narrative with perceptive social commentary, she offers a look at the mechanisms that limit who Black women are allowed to be—at work, at home, in community—and the defining moments when she decided that all the women within her should be free. From skinny dipping in the ocean to becoming a mom, she delves into the drama of life and invites women to begin defining themselves not by the tiny boxes handed to us, but as a people born free—free in spirit, free in hope, free in joy.
For women seeking to understand the true roots of their burnout, or anyone wondering what it means to live joyfully in a hostile world, Full of Myself is a breath of fresh air and an invitation to full humanity.
272 pages, Hardcover
Published August 26, 2025
85 people are currently reading
5290 people want to read
About the author
Austin Channing Brown
8 books1,011 followersAustin Channing Brown is a media producer, author, and speaker providing inspired leadership on racial justice in America. She is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness and the Executive Producer of The Next Question: A Web Series Imagining How Expansive Racial Justice Can Be. Her workshops are incisive, fun, disarming, and transformative. By using an intentional mix of humor, pop-culture, story-telling, and audience engagement, she awakens people to the current realities of systemic racism and the everyday actions which make it possible. Whether she is being interviewed, lecturing, preaching or leading a workshop, Austin is sure to evoke thought, feeling and action as she celebrates Blackness and the possibility of justice in our organizations, teams and communities.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 87 reviews
December 31, 2025
I think it's likely safe to say that Austin Channing Brown's "Full of Myself: Black Womanhood and the Journey to Self-Possession" isn't written with me in mind.
While nearly every writer wants to have as wide a reach as possible, it's also true that nearly every book has its target audience.
I'd venture to say that I am not the target reader for "Full of Myself."
Yet, here we are.
Now then, I could generalize myself as a middle-class white male. This description for the most part fits, though my indigenous ancestors (Choctaw, great-grandmother full-blooded) at least influence who I am and how I live.
That's not it, though.
It's the fact that I'm an adult male with multiple disabilities - spina bifida, double amputations, hydrocephalus, and a two-time cancer survivor. While I think I would have loved "Full of Myself" anyway, I think it's this body that I live in that allowed me to so richly connect with Brown's astute and piercing social insights presented alongside aching vulnerability and disciplined grasp for self-possession.
"Full of Myself" feels particularly vital precisely because of the time that we live in - a time in which anything related to DEI has become taboo and a time in which daring to challenge authority is met with a literal smackdown.
I can't help but think that if Brown had just focused on one or the other - social insight or self-discovery memoir - "Full of Myself" would have felt incomplete. Brown wisely leans into her self-possession precisely by owning her intelligence, wisdom, tenderness, and Black womanhood.
One can practically feel the soul-level fatigue in these pages, a fatigue born not out of disavowing her work but of realizing that her work must include herself. If she is to save democracy, she must simultaneously save herself.
From its earliest pages as Brown is let go from her position in DEI for a predominantly white church that appears committed to DEI until they actually have to practice DEI, "Full of Myself" brings to life Brown's experiences with the institutional and cultural structures that limit who Black women can be and where they fit in society (if they are allowed to fit). The early pages of "Full of Myself" are uncomfortable, as they should be, and my guess is Brown has already prepared herself for a new wave of haters either challenging her tone or her perceptions or her ideas or her, well, facts.
While I may not be comfortable with all of Brown's truths, they are her truths and they are universal truths and they are emotionally resonant and powerfully written here.
As "Full of Myself" blossoms, alongside Brown's own blossoming, it becomes a different sort of literary manifestation. She brings social justice to herself and to her body and to a sense of both justice and joy.
God, it's just so beautiful.
To reveal much more about "Full of Myself" is to ruin the gift of Austin Channing Brown's writing. We were largely introduced to her with her remarkable "I'm Still Here." With "Full of Myself," Brown owns herself with glorious revelation and soul-bursting exhilaration alongside the realities, often harsh, of what it means to live as a human being.
To say that I resonated with these truths would likely be an understatement, though my own experience is obviously much different as a person with significant disabilities who is too different, too weird, too disabled, too untouchable, and often times simply too much for this world that I live in.
I took away many truths and teachings from "Full of Myself," but perhaps most of all I was reminded that in this world that devalues everything I am the most radical act of social justice I can offer is to become full of myself.
While nearly every writer wants to have as wide a reach as possible, it's also true that nearly every book has its target audience.
I'd venture to say that I am not the target reader for "Full of Myself."
Yet, here we are.
Now then, I could generalize myself as a middle-class white male. This description for the most part fits, though my indigenous ancestors (Choctaw, great-grandmother full-blooded) at least influence who I am and how I live.
That's not it, though.
It's the fact that I'm an adult male with multiple disabilities - spina bifida, double amputations, hydrocephalus, and a two-time cancer survivor. While I think I would have loved "Full of Myself" anyway, I think it's this body that I live in that allowed me to so richly connect with Brown's astute and piercing social insights presented alongside aching vulnerability and disciplined grasp for self-possession.
"Full of Myself" feels particularly vital precisely because of the time that we live in - a time in which anything related to DEI has become taboo and a time in which daring to challenge authority is met with a literal smackdown.
I can't help but think that if Brown had just focused on one or the other - social insight or self-discovery memoir - "Full of Myself" would have felt incomplete. Brown wisely leans into her self-possession precisely by owning her intelligence, wisdom, tenderness, and Black womanhood.
One can practically feel the soul-level fatigue in these pages, a fatigue born not out of disavowing her work but of realizing that her work must include herself. If she is to save democracy, she must simultaneously save herself.
From its earliest pages as Brown is let go from her position in DEI for a predominantly white church that appears committed to DEI until they actually have to practice DEI, "Full of Myself" brings to life Brown's experiences with the institutional and cultural structures that limit who Black women can be and where they fit in society (if they are allowed to fit). The early pages of "Full of Myself" are uncomfortable, as they should be, and my guess is Brown has already prepared herself for a new wave of haters either challenging her tone or her perceptions or her ideas or her, well, facts.
While I may not be comfortable with all of Brown's truths, they are her truths and they are universal truths and they are emotionally resonant and powerfully written here.
As "Full of Myself" blossoms, alongside Brown's own blossoming, it becomes a different sort of literary manifestation. She brings social justice to herself and to her body and to a sense of both justice and joy.
God, it's just so beautiful.
To reveal much more about "Full of Myself" is to ruin the gift of Austin Channing Brown's writing. We were largely introduced to her with her remarkable "I'm Still Here." With "Full of Myself," Brown owns herself with glorious revelation and soul-bursting exhilaration alongside the realities, often harsh, of what it means to live as a human being.
To say that I resonated with these truths would likely be an understatement, though my own experience is obviously much different as a person with significant disabilities who is too different, too weird, too disabled, too untouchable, and often times simply too much for this world that I live in.
I took away many truths and teachings from "Full of Myself," but perhaps most of all I was reminded that in this world that devalues everything I am the most radical act of social justice I can offer is to become full of myself.
December 12, 2025
It’s like she cracked open her soul and let us peek inside
June 15, 2025
Reading Full of Myself left me flooded with emotion - both gratitude and grief. Austin Channing Brown writes with breathtaking clarity and specificity while speaking to truths that are often glossed over in conversations about embodiment and healing. We hear a lot about the need for Black women to reconnect with our bodies but Austin dares to ask why we were forced to disconnect in the first place.
She reflects on the spiritual and emotional cost of working in predominantly white institutions as a DEI professional, and the moments of rupture that ultimately led her to choose herself, not just in theory, but in daily practice. A moment that sticks with me is her reflection on being fired from a job she gave everything to: “Because I had agreed to their rules, and I was slowly losing myself.” That turning point becomes a portal toward reclaiming joy, asking for help, and embracing the sacredness of her own body and needs. I can relate, as I know so many Black women can, to the experience of self-abandonment to secure a sense of professional safety and belonging where there is none.
From the raw truths of Black motherhood to the liberating act of skinny-dipping, Austin gives us a roadmap to self-possession and reminds us that it is a powerful tool for our own survival and joy practice. Full of Myself is a declaration of freedom and a guide for Black women who are learning to stop shrinking and start breathing again.
She reflects on the spiritual and emotional cost of working in predominantly white institutions as a DEI professional, and the moments of rupture that ultimately led her to choose herself, not just in theory, but in daily practice. A moment that sticks with me is her reflection on being fired from a job she gave everything to: “Because I had agreed to their rules, and I was slowly losing myself.” That turning point becomes a portal toward reclaiming joy, asking for help, and embracing the sacredness of her own body and needs. I can relate, as I know so many Black women can, to the experience of self-abandonment to secure a sense of professional safety and belonging where there is none.
From the raw truths of Black motherhood to the liberating act of skinny-dipping, Austin gives us a roadmap to self-possession and reminds us that it is a powerful tool for our own survival and joy practice. Full of Myself is a declaration of freedom and a guide for Black women who are learning to stop shrinking and start breathing again.
August 26, 2025
Reading Full of Myself felt like sitting down with a friend who tells the truth with honesty and grace. Austin Channing Brown doesn’t just share stories from her life—she opens up about the exhaustion, the joy, the grief, and the healing that comes with being a Black woman in spaces that rarely make room for your full self.
What I loved most is how the book isn’t a straight timeline of events. Instead, it flows through feelings and experiences, which made it feel real and alive. Some parts are heavy and raw, but there’s also so much hope woven in. It’s not just about surviving difficult places—it’s about finding ways to reclaim joy and wholeness.
Certain moments really stuck with me, like when she describes how much she gave of herself just to belong, and then what it looked like to finally say, “enough.” Those parts hit hard but also felt incredibly freeing to read.
For me, this book was both comforting and inspiring. It reminded me that taking up space, honoring your needs, and choosing joy aren’t selfish—they’re essential. When I finished, I felt a little braver about claiming space for myself too.
If you’ve read her earlier work (I’m Still Here), this feels like the next step in her journey—but it also stands beautifully on its own. It’s raw, tender, and full of life. Highly recommend.
What I loved most is how the book isn’t a straight timeline of events. Instead, it flows through feelings and experiences, which made it feel real and alive. Some parts are heavy and raw, but there’s also so much hope woven in. It’s not just about surviving difficult places—it’s about finding ways to reclaim joy and wholeness.
Certain moments really stuck with me, like when she describes how much she gave of herself just to belong, and then what it looked like to finally say, “enough.” Those parts hit hard but also felt incredibly freeing to read.
For me, this book was both comforting and inspiring. It reminded me that taking up space, honoring your needs, and choosing joy aren’t selfish—they’re essential. When I finished, I felt a little braver about claiming space for myself too.
If you’ve read her earlier work (I’m Still Here), this feels like the next step in her journey—but it also stands beautifully on its own. It’s raw, tender, and full of life. Highly recommend.
October 22, 2025
As a Black woman, I ALWAYS want to make space for other Black women to share their stories with the world unapologetically. And I applaud them when they do! With that being said, the lessons (I think) ACB wants the reader gain from her stories - particularly the ones focused on race - fell flat for me. They might have been more impactful and profound in 2015, but in 2025, the conclusions were underwhelming or obvious to me. Felt like I was auditing a “race studies 101” class on the first day of class. Maybe they’re there for white people’s benefit instead of someone like me who has a similar lived experience and came to the same conclusions a decade ago? I don’t feel like I gained any new knowledge, but I did appreciate ACB sharing her story!
December 21, 2025
Austin Channing Brown is a prophet.
"I am happy to have this child, but I also cry a lot. I do not know how to resolve these two things when I read this question."
"I am happy to have this child, but I also cry a lot. I do not know how to resolve these two things when I read this question."
August 10, 2025
I’m intentionally reading Full of Myself by Austin Channing Brown slowly, even though every page makes me want to keep going until the very end. I want to sit with each story, let the words settle in my heart, and fully absorb the beauty, the pain, and the truth she shares.
While these are Austin’s stories, I recognize pieces of myself in them. Not identical moments, but parallel experiences that stir familiar emotions—moments of joy, exhaustion, pride, frustration, resilience. Reading them feels like being seen in ways I didn’t expect.
Austin’s voice is powerful, tender, and unflinchingly honest. She writes with a rhythm that makes you want to highlight whole paragraphs, yet you pause because the words deserve to be lived with, not just read.
Thank you, Austin, for telling your truth. In it, I see parts of my own. And I see you.
While these are Austin’s stories, I recognize pieces of myself in them. Not identical moments, but parallel experiences that stir familiar emotions—moments of joy, exhaustion, pride, frustration, resilience. Reading them feels like being seen in ways I didn’t expect.
Austin’s voice is powerful, tender, and unflinchingly honest. She writes with a rhythm that makes you want to highlight whole paragraphs, yet you pause because the words deserve to be lived with, not just read.
Thank you, Austin, for telling your truth. In it, I see parts of my own. And I see you.
July 8, 2025
Austin Channing Brown’s Full of Myself is a striking, vulnerable, and deeply resonant memoir-in-essays that threads her personal experiences through a wider lens of race, gender, faith, and resistance. Structured around refrains like I Love Myself When I Am Laughing, Falling Apart, Connected, or Awkward, the book is both scaffolded and spiraled, looping back to familiar themes while revealing new layers.
Brown’s prose is intimate but sharp. She describes being blamed and fired for outcomes her supervisors made inevitable, a scenario many readers—especially Black women—will recognize instantly. Her reflections on workplace dysfunction, “white-collar wage theft” masquerading as other duties as assigned, and the white gaze’s influence on hair, professionalism, and perception, are not just honest, they’re cutting in their clarity.
What I appreciated most was how Brown balances tone and subject. She doesn’t shy away from pain, whether in describing health issues, institutional failures, or internalized fear, but she also brings in humor, solidarity, and joy. Whether she’s recounting an awkward prom moment, the loving rules her mom had for books, or the joy of clapping games and hair store sisterhood, Brown invites the reader to see the full, nuanced humanity of Black womanhood. She writes with what feels like hard-won permission to be joyful, awkward, angry, exhausted, and healing all at once.
Highlights include:
- Her powerful naming of Black politeness as a means of diffusion and self-protection.
- A blistering critique of DEI frameworks that refuse to address power.
- Vulnerable reflections on her own health and body: being denied life insurance, navigating chronic kidney disease, and the intersection of race and medical neglect.
- Commentary on how “experts” and “awards” are coded around whiteness—who gets to be rewarded, seen, or believed.
Brown also reckons with faith: the betrayal of being silenced in a predominantly white church after Trayvon Martin’s murder and the emotional dissonance of working in Christian institutions that love diversity until it costs them something. Her critiques are nuanced but firm. She is not here to comfort white readers or to apologize for speaking plainly.
In Full of Myself, Brown models how to love oneself in sorrow, in rage, in awkwardness, in hope. It's a book about survival and thriving. About telling the truth without flinching. About honoring the parts of yourself that the world might try to erase.
A must-read for anyone navigating the intersections of race, gender, faith, labor, and healing, and especially for Black women who rarely see their full selves reflected on the page.
Brown’s prose is intimate but sharp. She describes being blamed and fired for outcomes her supervisors made inevitable, a scenario many readers—especially Black women—will recognize instantly. Her reflections on workplace dysfunction, “white-collar wage theft” masquerading as other duties as assigned, and the white gaze’s influence on hair, professionalism, and perception, are not just honest, they’re cutting in their clarity.
What I appreciated most was how Brown balances tone and subject. She doesn’t shy away from pain, whether in describing health issues, institutional failures, or internalized fear, but she also brings in humor, solidarity, and joy. Whether she’s recounting an awkward prom moment, the loving rules her mom had for books, or the joy of clapping games and hair store sisterhood, Brown invites the reader to see the full, nuanced humanity of Black womanhood. She writes with what feels like hard-won permission to be joyful, awkward, angry, exhausted, and healing all at once.
Highlights include:
- Her powerful naming of Black politeness as a means of diffusion and self-protection.
- A blistering critique of DEI frameworks that refuse to address power.
- Vulnerable reflections on her own health and body: being denied life insurance, navigating chronic kidney disease, and the intersection of race and medical neglect.
- Commentary on how “experts” and “awards” are coded around whiteness—who gets to be rewarded, seen, or believed.
Brown also reckons with faith: the betrayal of being silenced in a predominantly white church after Trayvon Martin’s murder and the emotional dissonance of working in Christian institutions that love diversity until it costs them something. Her critiques are nuanced but firm. She is not here to comfort white readers or to apologize for speaking plainly.
In Full of Myself, Brown models how to love oneself in sorrow, in rage, in awkwardness, in hope. It's a book about survival and thriving. About telling the truth without flinching. About honoring the parts of yourself that the world might try to erase.
A must-read for anyone navigating the intersections of race, gender, faith, labor, and healing, and especially for Black women who rarely see their full selves reflected on the page.
August 23, 2025
"All of the women. in me. are tired."
Full of Myself is Austin Channing Brown's second book in which she continues to describe her work as an antiracism educator and writer as well as her experiences as a black woman in America. Her writing is both entertaining and educational, frustrating and hopeful, heavy and lighthearted, and brutally honest. Rather than being told in a chronological timeline, it is divided into sections of "I love myself when I..." that either describe antidotes from those emotions or how she learned to love herself during those times.
While I am not a black woman, I don't think that means that this book wasn't written for me. One of the things that Austin mentions is that white people are pretty good at hiding their real selves from one another and I think the events in this country since 2016 has proven that to be true. I wasn't naive enough to believe racism was dead, but I was definitely surprised at the amount of white supremacists who have proudly stood up in the last 20 years. And, just like with other subjects, the best way to learn is from someone who has more expertise than you. There was a time when Austin was describing an interaction at a store and says that white women were mad. My thought was "of course they were! How silly that the convenience store didn't even have a product that could be used for hair!" - but that wasn't the point of the anger she described. They were angry that she called out the clerk who didn't know enough to be helpful. But that wasn't the point so why were they angry about that? In another story, she talks about hate mail that she received. First of all, she's valid for being scared. Secondly, if someone is going to take that much time and effort and not even have the balls to sign their name, they have to know they are wrong.
As someone who has had a lot of health issues since high school, I really related to the section "I Love Myself When I am Falling Apart." I also become a googling professional when my test results come in and immediately start self-diagnosing. I do also have the luxury of having friends in the medical field and have sent them my test results on more than one occasion asking for their interpretation. Also, I stopped taking tests to avoid the anxiety for a bit (NOT recommended). In another section, I really loved the way she reframed her medical needs to be that she's high maintenance and will be adopting that mindset. Sometimes, medication is how you have to give self care.
"I failed at being them. It was a failure I was proud of, because I did not fail at being me."
Huge thank you to NetGalley, Convergent Books, and Austin Channing Brown for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Full of Myself is Austin Channing Brown's second book in which she continues to describe her work as an antiracism educator and writer as well as her experiences as a black woman in America. Her writing is both entertaining and educational, frustrating and hopeful, heavy and lighthearted, and brutally honest. Rather than being told in a chronological timeline, it is divided into sections of "I love myself when I..." that either describe antidotes from those emotions or how she learned to love herself during those times.
While I am not a black woman, I don't think that means that this book wasn't written for me. One of the things that Austin mentions is that white people are pretty good at hiding their real selves from one another and I think the events in this country since 2016 has proven that to be true. I wasn't naive enough to believe racism was dead, but I was definitely surprised at the amount of white supremacists who have proudly stood up in the last 20 years. And, just like with other subjects, the best way to learn is from someone who has more expertise than you. There was a time when Austin was describing an interaction at a store and says that white women were mad. My thought was "of course they were! How silly that the convenience store didn't even have a product that could be used for hair!" - but that wasn't the point of the anger she described. They were angry that she called out the clerk who didn't know enough to be helpful. But that wasn't the point so why were they angry about that? In another story, she talks about hate mail that she received. First of all, she's valid for being scared. Secondly, if someone is going to take that much time and effort and not even have the balls to sign their name, they have to know they are wrong.
As someone who has had a lot of health issues since high school, I really related to the section "I Love Myself When I am Falling Apart." I also become a googling professional when my test results come in and immediately start self-diagnosing. I do also have the luxury of having friends in the medical field and have sent them my test results on more than one occasion asking for their interpretation. Also, I stopped taking tests to avoid the anxiety for a bit (NOT recommended). In another section, I really loved the way she reframed her medical needs to be that she's high maintenance and will be adopting that mindset. Sometimes, medication is how you have to give self care.
"I failed at being them. It was a failure I was proud of, because I did not fail at being me."
Huge thank you to NetGalley, Convergent Books, and Austin Channing Brown for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
August 26, 2025
I was so excited to read another piece of work from Austin Channing Brown. In many ways, this book feels like a more personal work. It is structured around the multitude of facets each person, particularly including black women. I found her message to be extremely powerful; black women deserve to embrace themselves fully and step away from all that our society expects from them. As a mother, I found her discussion of her pregnancy and post-partum experience to really resonate. I will continue to read everything Austin Channing Brown comes out with. Her voice is vital to the space of anti-racism work.
Thank you to NetGalley and Convergent Books for providing an eARC in return for my honest thoughts.
Thank you to NetGalley and Convergent Books for providing an eARC in return for my honest thoughts.
November 12, 2025
As someone trying to hold all the weight of being holy, educated, and a muthaf*cka—it’s exhausting. Trying to lead with kindness, speak with authority, move through the world as a Christian and still advocate for justice? That’s not light work. And it’s damn near impossible without deep self-possession.
What I didn’t expect was to see that struggle named so plainly, so powerfully. While my mother taught me to love my body—unlike the literal scalding maternal rejection in this book—I still felt the jagged edges of what it means to grow up inside someone else’s ideas of you.
This book doesn’t coddle, but it does comfort. It reminded me that my contradictions aren’t a weakness. They’re a calling.
What I didn’t expect was to see that struggle named so plainly, so powerfully. While my mother taught me to love my body—unlike the literal scalding maternal rejection in this book—I still felt the jagged edges of what it means to grow up inside someone else’s ideas of you.
This book doesn’t coddle, but it does comfort. It reminded me that my contradictions aren’t a weakness. They’re a calling.
September 14, 2025
Absolutely loved every page of this book! I felt seen and affirmed in reading Austin’s Happy-Sad stories. The parts about learning to love her body through chronic illness, pregnancy, and postpartum and recognizing we don’t control our bodies was so helpful and healing to read. Her vulnerability in this book is like listening to a close friend tell you about all her deepest secrets and insecurities and how she is healing through them. I feel honored to be able to hold these stories in my hands and in my mind.
“I love myself when I’m laughing, and again when I’m looking mean and impressive”
All the awkward Black girls and the mean impressive Black girls… this is a MUST READ.
“I love myself when I’m laughing, and again when I’m looking mean and impressive”
All the awkward Black girls and the mean impressive Black girls… this is a MUST READ.
September 16, 2025
Beautifully affirming and empowering.
January 28, 2026
I read both of her books one after the other. I didn’t realize how much I needed them in 2026. In a country that excludes me, I felt included as a Black woman.
September 12, 2025
Loved this one!
January 26, 2026
This book wasn’t written for me but it was good for me to read/listen to (recommended, as it’s read by the author). Brown reveals the many ways she has had to adapt and adjust her life to suit the needs of a world and people not intended for her thriving and the healing journey she has undertaken to reclaim agency and voice in that system.
September 14, 2025
Read this author’s other novel “I’m Still Here” and saw she had another one out. So glad I picked this one up, as I had not seen it other than at my local library. 5 stars. It makes you mad at how white humans treat women of colour. Appalling. Auto buy author for me!
August 14, 2025
Insightful collection of essays surrounding race, family, motherhood, health and connection ,displaying a lot of vulnerability on behalf of the author.
September 8, 2025
Austin's raw, heartfelt stories hit home like a conversation with your wisest friend. Through her journey of navigating work, motherhood, and racial microaggressions, she speaks directly to the soul of every Black woman who's ever felt exhausted, unseen, yet kept pushing forward. A healing, validating embrace of a book.
September 1, 2025
I read Austin Channing Brown’s previous memoir, I’m Still Here, and have supported and followed her work since. One of her gifts, when she speaks or writes, is centering the perspective of black women, and as a white woman, I appreciate and need that. My first thought after reading the first piece (“Squeals”) of Channing-Brown’s new book, Full of Myself, was, “this is not about me”. As I continued reading the book, I was pulled in, and I realized that this book might not be about me, but her words are for me too.
The book is classified as a memoir, but it doesn’t exactly fit the usual memoir genre; she has created a structure of vignettes-delightful intimate tasty little snacks- grouped together by themes (I love myself when I am ______). For those with churchy experiences it might be reminiscent of “daily devotional” formats, although that is not what this book is or does. The result for the reader, and perhaps for the author as well, extends what began in her previous memoir-helping us understand her anti racism work and its importance to her and to all of us-but now showing that how she and all of us show up matters. That not bringing our whole truth to our work and interactions has real costs. Her growing internal awareness has helped her find an external way that is healthier for her: bringing our whole selves requires loving all our parts. This is done with humor and passion-she doesn’t leave out the gory details (hello, “Postpartum”!) that many of us have been taught to hide.
The “I love myself when I am embodied” collection took me on a journey, reflecting on my internal landscape, back to my adolescence. I could relate to her experiences of feeling overwhelmed, ashamed, afraid and alone during adolescence, when she started her first period (“Blood” “Carry” “Agency”) and because of difficulties that arose from her allergy to deodorant (Allergies” “Punishment”). It took me back to what at the time was overwhelming and lonely. Thinking about loving that self was powerful.
The experiences related by this book will at times make you mad and outraged, but will also make you smile and laugh, and will melt your heart (her partner, Tommie❤️❤️). It will show you what it looks like when someone is learning to love her full self.
The book is classified as a memoir, but it doesn’t exactly fit the usual memoir genre; she has created a structure of vignettes-delightful intimate tasty little snacks- grouped together by themes (I love myself when I am ______). For those with churchy experiences it might be reminiscent of “daily devotional” formats, although that is not what this book is or does. The result for the reader, and perhaps for the author as well, extends what began in her previous memoir-helping us understand her anti racism work and its importance to her and to all of us-but now showing that how she and all of us show up matters. That not bringing our whole truth to our work and interactions has real costs. Her growing internal awareness has helped her find an external way that is healthier for her: bringing our whole selves requires loving all our parts. This is done with humor and passion-she doesn’t leave out the gory details (hello, “Postpartum”!) that many of us have been taught to hide.
The “I love myself when I am embodied” collection took me on a journey, reflecting on my internal landscape, back to my adolescence. I could relate to her experiences of feeling overwhelmed, ashamed, afraid and alone during adolescence, when she started her first period (“Blood” “Carry” “Agency”) and because of difficulties that arose from her allergy to deodorant (Allergies” “Punishment”). It took me back to what at the time was overwhelming and lonely. Thinking about loving that self was powerful.
The experiences related by this book will at times make you mad and outraged, but will also make you smile and laugh, and will melt your heart (her partner, Tommie❤️❤️). It will show you what it looks like when someone is learning to love her full self.
October 24, 2025
Austin Channing Brown's first book opened
I just finished reading Full of Myself a Self-help/Autobiographical book written by Austin Channing Brown. I read the EBook published by Convergent Books. NetGalley gave me a copy of this book. I read this book on NetGalley. It is a stand alone book.
This book is a must read if you like: Body Positivity, validation, actionable self- help.
"I have never been in control of how men process my body, regardless of what I'm wearing. I have never been in control of how the church processes my body, no matter how i try to stay covered. ...It turns out the only thing I can control, I had to learn to do myself: and that is love my body. ...I do not mean that I look in the mirror and am forever pleased. It has more to do with how I treat my body than how I feel about it."
The author takes us on her journey to self-possesion and discusses how our society's view on race, gender, and other factors affect the way we view being full of ourselves.
While this book faces extremely tough topics head on, it does so with an extremely hopeful outlook. While it confronts the fact that we have to face these systemic issues, it also emphasizes the need to do so in a mentally healthy way.
I adored Austin Channing Brown's first book and this one reached into my soul and gripped my heart. Her vulnerability in discussing her past experiences helped me processes some of mine.
While this book is intended specifically for women of color, I found I resonated with a lot of the intersectionality of being a woman and plus sized. Also, it helped me see things through her experiences thst I was unaware of.
I can't pick a favorite part of this book, but I did love the section headings. It felt like a poem or positive affirmation.
If you haven’t read this book, you absolutely need to. It is phenomenal.
Content Warnings: Body image, grief, racism, death.
I just finished reading Full of Myself a Self-help/Autobiographical book written by Austin Channing Brown. I read the EBook published by Convergent Books. NetGalley gave me a copy of this book. I read this book on NetGalley. It is a stand alone book.
This book is a must read if you like: Body Positivity, validation, actionable self- help.
"I have never been in control of how men process my body, regardless of what I'm wearing. I have never been in control of how the church processes my body, no matter how i try to stay covered. ...It turns out the only thing I can control, I had to learn to do myself: and that is love my body. ...I do not mean that I look in the mirror and am forever pleased. It has more to do with how I treat my body than how I feel about it."
The author takes us on her journey to self-possesion and discusses how our society's view on race, gender, and other factors affect the way we view being full of ourselves.
While this book faces extremely tough topics head on, it does so with an extremely hopeful outlook. While it confronts the fact that we have to face these systemic issues, it also emphasizes the need to do so in a mentally healthy way.
I adored Austin Channing Brown's first book and this one reached into my soul and gripped my heart. Her vulnerability in discussing her past experiences helped me processes some of mine.
While this book is intended specifically for women of color, I found I resonated with a lot of the intersectionality of being a woman and plus sized. Also, it helped me see things through her experiences thst I was unaware of.
I can't pick a favorite part of this book, but I did love the section headings. It felt like a poem or positive affirmation.
If you haven’t read this book, you absolutely need to. It is phenomenal.
Content Warnings: Body image, grief, racism, death.
October 23, 2025
Cue John Legend’s All of Me — but this time, imagine singing it to yourself. That’s exactly what Full of Myself feels like: a soulful ballad of self-love, reflection & reclamation —finely crafted by a Black woman to all Black women everywhere. Brown writes us the love letter we never knew we needed in this title! This book is a testament to the journey of loving oneself fully as a Black woman in a world that constantly tells us not to.
Brown accurately captures the ache & beauty of that tension — how hard it is to love something that everybody else seems to hate. Yet she reminds us that we must love ourselves all the same, because if we don’t, who will?
The title alone is both declaration & defiance. It embraces the duality of being completely in love with who we are, while knowing that “they” — society, systems, structures — may never approve of that love. & that disapproval, that gaze, can affect your trajectory in life. Brown doesn’t shy away from this truth; instead, she dives into it with grace & grit.
Full of Myself made me feel seen — deeply seen. It reminded me that loving myself is not vanity, it’s resistance. It’s a radical act of defiance against racism, sexism & any type of oppression really. It’s a practice I have to enact daily if I want to thrive & succeed on this side of eternity.
I seriously can’t wait for her next work. Because Austin Channing Brown — like all of us Black women — has so much more to say. We are an endless source of knowledge, stories & wisdom. Infinite. Expansive. On some real “to infinity & beyond” type shi!
*I received an advance review copy for free & / am leaving this review voluntarily.*
#ThankGodForARCs
Brown accurately captures the ache & beauty of that tension — how hard it is to love something that everybody else seems to hate. Yet she reminds us that we must love ourselves all the same, because if we don’t, who will?
The title alone is both declaration & defiance. It embraces the duality of being completely in love with who we are, while knowing that “they” — society, systems, structures — may never approve of that love. & that disapproval, that gaze, can affect your trajectory in life. Brown doesn’t shy away from this truth; instead, she dives into it with grace & grit.
Full of Myself made me feel seen — deeply seen. It reminded me that loving myself is not vanity, it’s resistance. It’s a radical act of defiance against racism, sexism & any type of oppression really. It’s a practice I have to enact daily if I want to thrive & succeed on this side of eternity.
I seriously can’t wait for her next work. Because Austin Channing Brown — like all of us Black women — has so much more to say. We are an endless source of knowledge, stories & wisdom. Infinite. Expansive. On some real “to infinity & beyond” type shi!
*I received an advance review copy for free & / am leaving this review voluntarily.*
#ThankGodForARCs
November 20, 2025
This was my first time reading Austin Channing Brown. I totally missed 2020's I'm Still Here. But I met her through this book at the right time. So much of her journey to self-possession speaks to me as I establish my intentions entering a milestone age year.
The book's structure calls to and builds upon the iconic Zora Neale Hurston quote from a letter to photographer Carl Van Vechten, "I love myself when I am laughing... and then again when I am looking mean and impressive."
Using that as a springboard, Austin mines moments of her own life for pearls of wisdom to share with others. She challenges us to love every version of ourselves, to own and accept who we are, and to begin to let go some of who we think we are supposed to be.
"Hair Store Order of Service" prompted me to reflect on my beauty supply store experiences. Having worked as a young adult at Walgreens in various neighborhoods in Kentucky, D.C., and Chicago, I understood the vignette "Inconvenient" all too well. The entire "I Love Myself When I Am Awkward" section had me cackling while cringing because, well - "Why are we like this, sis?" I sent a screenshot of a passage from "Expecting" to my husband, who gifted me this book, with the text: "Is she me???"
Even now, as I craft this review while rereading underlines and reflecting on passages, Austin's words continue to give. Take this, from the last page:
"If my body is keeping the score, it is not calculating only what went wrong but what has been beautiful and inviting and thrilling and bursting with love. I am writing the story of myself, and I'll be damned if there won't be more...."
Same!
The book's structure calls to and builds upon the iconic Zora Neale Hurston quote from a letter to photographer Carl Van Vechten, "I love myself when I am laughing... and then again when I am looking mean and impressive."
Using that as a springboard, Austin mines moments of her own life for pearls of wisdom to share with others. She challenges us to love every version of ourselves, to own and accept who we are, and to begin to let go some of who we think we are supposed to be.
"Hair Store Order of Service" prompted me to reflect on my beauty supply store experiences. Having worked as a young adult at Walgreens in various neighborhoods in Kentucky, D.C., and Chicago, I understood the vignette "Inconvenient" all too well. The entire "I Love Myself When I Am Awkward" section had me cackling while cringing because, well - "Why are we like this, sis?" I sent a screenshot of a passage from "Expecting" to my husband, who gifted me this book, with the text: "Is she me???"
Even now, as I craft this review while rereading underlines and reflecting on passages, Austin's words continue to give. Take this, from the last page:
"If my body is keeping the score, it is not calculating only what went wrong but what has been beautiful and inviting and thrilling and bursting with love. I am writing the story of myself, and I'll be damned if there won't be more...."
Same!
October 18, 2025
The book began well, much like Ms. Brown's previous work. It kind of stalled in the middle, but not enough for me to lose interest. I wanted to know where she was headed with the detailed information she was articulating. However, as I read, I saw her intent clearly. I am not a Black woman; I am a white woman twice her age, but I could identify with some of her situations and challenges. Many of those situations were because of her race, and the ideas angered me that people are still denied certain basic privileges because of their race. I live in a different part of the country than Ms. Brown and have spoken with more than a few Black women whose experiences are similar but not quite as severe. They are fortunate because I believe what Ms. Brown experienced was more the norm. My only disappointment was that Ms. Brown, as a Christian woman, didn't communicate her spirituality a bit more. She made no reference of turning to her church for help, or maybe she did turn to them and they didn't help. That is very sad.
I read a review from a man who said he thought the book should only be read by women. I disagree. Many of the situations Ms. Brown faced in her life were detailed descriptions of what Black women face, and I think many men could benefit from her words. Just because something might be difficult to read doesn't mean it shouldn't be read. It wasn't what I thought it would be; it was better.
I read a review from a man who said he thought the book should only be read by women. I disagree. Many of the situations Ms. Brown faced in her life were detailed descriptions of what Black women face, and I think many men could benefit from her words. Just because something might be difficult to read doesn't mean it shouldn't be read. It wasn't what I thought it would be; it was better.
September 25, 2025
“We remember that none of this is riding on one of us, and therefore we each can set it down and the come back. Prioritizing one another’s survival in system that doesn’t honor our humanity is another way to practice solidarity.“
This was another outstanding book by Austin Channing Brown. Her books are always incredibly poignant for the current climate. Sitting back, learning, and listening to Black women when they want to teach is something I am incredibly privileged to be able to do. Black women have always been miles ahead of societal and political issues. We need to be listening to their voices.
So many times in this book I realized how much of what she was saying bore true to my own life, and I had to grapple with how privileged I am that JUST NOW am I sharing these struggles. These are not new for Black women, and we need to help carry the burden for them too.
Pulling a single quote for this review was nearly impossible, so I will share one more.
“I’m struck by how much energy bearing witness requires.”
This was another outstanding book by Austin Channing Brown. Her books are always incredibly poignant for the current climate. Sitting back, learning, and listening to Black women when they want to teach is something I am incredibly privileged to be able to do. Black women have always been miles ahead of societal and political issues. We need to be listening to their voices.
So many times in this book I realized how much of what she was saying bore true to my own life, and I had to grapple with how privileged I am that JUST NOW am I sharing these struggles. These are not new for Black women, and we need to help carry the burden for them too.
Pulling a single quote for this review was nearly impossible, so I will share one more.
“I’m struck by how much energy bearing witness requires.”
September 1, 2025
What a powerful collection of personal essays.
I have almost nothing in common with the author, Austin, other than being a woman, wife and mother, we’ve had completely different lives. I appreciated how vividly she tells her story, and I found some of the early essays on her work in a church context so interesting, given it is the setting most familiar to me. The book talks about the way whiteness and blackness move around one another and affect each other and how often black people are accommodating the needs and desires of white people, as we know to their own detriment. There are some hard stories, but it’s incredibly inspiring to read about someone learning to step out in the fullness of who she is, unapologetic, keeping going.
Thank you so much to NetGalley and the publisher for the digital ARC.
I have almost nothing in common with the author, Austin, other than being a woman, wife and mother, we’ve had completely different lives. I appreciated how vividly she tells her story, and I found some of the early essays on her work in a church context so interesting, given it is the setting most familiar to me. The book talks about the way whiteness and blackness move around one another and affect each other and how often black people are accommodating the needs and desires of white people, as we know to their own detriment. There are some hard stories, but it’s incredibly inspiring to read about someone learning to step out in the fullness of who she is, unapologetic, keeping going.
Thank you so much to NetGalley and the publisher for the digital ARC.
October 12, 2025
pg. 65
I am struck by how much energy bearing witness requires. Because it is not just watching. It is feeling. It is knowing. It is sharing a kinship with people I have never met and processing the disregard they are facing.
pg. 239
My body remembers trauma. It remembers tears and grief. It remembers rage and anger, danger and pain. But I believe it also remembers joy. I believe it also remembers healing. If my body is keeping the score, it is calculating not only what went wrong but what has been beautiful and inviting and thrilling and bursting with love. I am writing the story of myself, and I'll be damned if there won't be more romances and more adventures and more solidarity - and, yes, more justice work. But this time, it will be rooted in the life I want for myself. If I am to be undone by life, let it be a beautiful undoing.
I am struck by how much energy bearing witness requires. Because it is not just watching. It is feeling. It is knowing. It is sharing a kinship with people I have never met and processing the disregard they are facing.
pg. 239
My body remembers trauma. It remembers tears and grief. It remembers rage and anger, danger and pain. But I believe it also remembers joy. I believe it also remembers healing. If my body is keeping the score, it is calculating not only what went wrong but what has been beautiful and inviting and thrilling and bursting with love. I am writing the story of myself, and I'll be damned if there won't be more romances and more adventures and more solidarity - and, yes, more justice work. But this time, it will be rooted in the life I want for myself. If I am to be undone by life, let it be a beautiful undoing.
September 14, 2025
There were several essays in here that I really loved:
--When ACB told the truth at her interview to work at a dormitory
--when period talk between ACB and her mother
--the essay about generational wealth, and story about baking together over zoom brought me to tears. I loved the honest discussion of actual generational wealth, and also the reframing generational wealth to showcase what she truly has inherited
--the essay about her diagnosis of CKD and how her girlfriends came over and took care of her family. I loved that
--I also really liked the writings about hair and makeup and how sometimes it feels like everyone else knows what they want for their style and can describe it. I related a lot to ACB in this way.
--When ACB told the truth at her interview to work at a dormitory
--when period talk between ACB and her mother
--the essay about generational wealth, and story about baking together over zoom brought me to tears. I loved the honest discussion of actual generational wealth, and also the reframing generational wealth to showcase what she truly has inherited
--the essay about her diagnosis of CKD and how her girlfriends came over and took care of her family. I loved that
--I also really liked the writings about hair and makeup and how sometimes it feels like everyone else knows what they want for their style and can describe it. I related a lot to ACB in this way.
September 23, 2025
I love Austin Channing Brown's writing, her voice shines through so clearly. Saddened there is still so far to go in our country when it comes to race, it was especially disheartening hearing about the strategies in churches to keep old white men in power comfortable. I enjoyed hearing her journey to becoming "full of myself".
Ms. Channing Brown's chapters about pre/post-partum depression and chronic health issues were honest and vulnerable. Reflections on the role of oppression, chronic stress, and justice work likely being a factor in her chronic health issues was sobering.
I could relate to her chapter on awkwardness and am going to use her quote "I love myself when I am awkward" as a self-compassion mantra when I'm feeling awkward in the future. Beautiful.
Ms. Channing Brown's chapters about pre/post-partum depression and chronic health issues were honest and vulnerable. Reflections on the role of oppression, chronic stress, and justice work likely being a factor in her chronic health issues was sobering.
I could relate to her chapter on awkwardness and am going to use her quote "I love myself when I am awkward" as a self-compassion mantra when I'm feeling awkward in the future. Beautiful.
September 24, 2025
It was 2020. I was deep in my drug addiction. George Floyd sadly happened, COVID, and then the shutdown. Stuck at home, it was then that I started reading and posting my sad little reviews of books. But antiracism was on the rise, and racial justice advocates were in high demand and then I encountered Austin’s book “I’m still here” and never looked back. Someone once told me “You swear you are a black girl”. I was flattered honestly and told them to piss off.
Full of myself is Austin’s vulnerable and personal book. It is the book that is on my nightstand to open and read any random page. Her essays capture the mortality, body, church, loving, and providing of one’s spirit. It’s god, it is happy pills, it is self exploration of the universe. 🌹
Full of myself is Austin’s vulnerable and personal book. It is the book that is on my nightstand to open and read any random page. Her essays capture the mortality, body, church, loving, and providing of one’s spirit. It’s god, it is happy pills, it is self exploration of the universe. 🌹
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