What do you think?
Rate this book
Unshaming: A Memoir of Recovery, Relapse, and What Comes After
From the national bestselling and critically acclaimed author of Drunk Mom, a powerful and transformative memoir exploring the intersection of addiction and shame.
It’s been over a decade since Jowita Bydlowska published her bestselling lightning rod of a memoir on overcoming alcohol addiction as a young mother. Both hailed and criticized for its no-holds-barred transparency, Drunk Mom was—and continues to be—refreshing and revelatory in its gritty exploration of addiction and relapse in the context of new parenthood, specifically from the experience of a woman. But what happens after the last page is turned, after the “happy ending” of an addiction the world assumes is safely in the rearview?
When Bydlowska relapses after the success of her book, her overwhelming sense is one of shame. She struggles to reconcile the knowledge that she’s helped bring comfort and hope to countless readers with her own frustration and mounting fear that the truth will only let others down. In prose that is by turns harsh and beautiful, tender and devastating, she writes about her ensuing spiral into alcoholism—and the climb back up and out.
Unshaming is a raw, unsparing navigation of the intricacies of shame. With the same generosity and grim humour that made Drunk Mom such a standout, Bydlowska uses her own story as a vehicle to interrogate and challenge the narrative surrounding addiction, exploring the ways in which the conversation has both evolved and stayed the same over the last decade. Told with breathtaking narrative immediacy, Unshaming transcends the typical self-help memoir and punches through every expectation about what the perfect woman, mother, and writer in recovery should look like.
It’s been over a decade since Jowita Bydlowska published her bestselling lightning rod of a memoir on overcoming alcohol addiction as a young mother. Both hailed and criticized for its no-holds-barred transparency, Drunk Mom was—and continues to be—refreshing and revelatory in its gritty exploration of addiction and relapse in the context of new parenthood, specifically from the experience of a woman. But what happens after the last page is turned, after the “happy ending” of an addiction the world assumes is safely in the rearview?
When Bydlowska relapses after the success of her book, her overwhelming sense is one of shame. She struggles to reconcile the knowledge that she’s helped bring comfort and hope to countless readers with her own frustration and mounting fear that the truth will only let others down. In prose that is by turns harsh and beautiful, tender and devastating, she writes about her ensuing spiral into alcoholism—and the climb back up and out.
Unshaming is a raw, unsparing navigation of the intricacies of shame. With the same generosity and grim humour that made Drunk Mom such a standout, Bydlowska uses her own story as a vehicle to interrogate and challenge the narrative surrounding addiction, exploring the ways in which the conversation has both evolved and stayed the same over the last decade. Told with breathtaking narrative immediacy, Unshaming transcends the typical self-help memoir and punches through every expectation about what the perfect woman, mother, and writer in recovery should look like.
Audible Audio
Published March 10, 2026
About the author
Jowita Bydlowska
13 books188 followersBorn in Poland, live in Canada, published some books.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
April 8, 2026
Im here because i lost my dad to alcoholism 3 months ago. Shame has been taking from my family for as long as i can remember. this book called to me as a way to understand my dad better- to understand myself better. I want to give the author a big hug for putting this all into words, weaving in theory and personal experience for a very compassionate and raw lens into addiction, trauma and shame. grateful i stumbled upon this book.
March 24, 2026
An honest memoir about a viral 'drunkmom' who became sober and her story of relapse, hitting rock bottom (again) and crawling her way towards sobriety. She talks a lot about shame (internalized and societal), forgiveness, her strained relationships with her child, co-parent and partner and how she believes her sobriety struggles are related to a genetic substance use disorder. I found it relatable and emotional (especially the extra stress and anxiety of the pandemic lockdown times) but it is a hard book to read at times. I applaud the author for sharing her story and struggles with the hope it may help others facing the same challenges.
May 23, 2026
For the past two months, I wake up on every Saturday and with my eyes still glued from sleep, I grab my phone and shyly Google “Bydlowska Unshaming review,” only to be met with the first month of publicity efforts (very good stuff, starred reviews) but no Globe and Mail, no Winnipeg Press, no Washington Post… no New York Times. All the places that once reviewed my books with alarming enthusiasm now treating me like a one-night stand.
Am I bitter? Yes Not at all. Even though writing this book occasionally felt like cutting out part of my soul, pan-frying it like a sirloin, and serving it to the public (nearmeat for the vegans). And I have now publicly sacrificed my first-born twice in memoir form.
Anyway, that’s fine, Globe and NYT, you don’t want to review it, I will do it for you – we authors already have to do so much self-promo, what’s one more indignity and I have seen authors create fake review accounts and slap five stars on their own books (you know who you are). As for me, since I no longer have *any* shame -- having written Unshaming -- I am slapping five stars on my own book overtly and here's the rest of my review.
Okay, first of all, you should totally buy it. The prose is sharp, the emotional honesty is devastating, and unlike many memoirs, this one contains actual stakes, including but not limited to broken bones, public humiliation, international espionage and a dog. Some people say it’s a follow-up to Drunk Mom and like in every sequel, we meet our hero many years later, older, wearier, and dragged back into the game against her will. Like John Wick, she thought she was out. But shame pulled her back in.
It starts with the protagonist waking up after a blackout and realizing her body has been turned into the physical condition of John Wick roughly twenty minutes into any John Wick movie: shattered, concussed yet somehow still expected to continue the story. Instead of immediately seeking meaningful help, however, she seduces her boyfriend so that she can pretend everything is fine for a few more minutes (fun fact, women don’t like prolonged lovemaking sessions and with broken bones, this is an especially dangerous endeavour).
After finally calling the paramedics, our heroine goes to the hospital and invents a fake story about the accident, following the sacred John Wick tradition of insisting everything is fine while covered in catastrophic injuries. Unlike John Wick she doesn’t stitch up her own face but we have a feeling she would if she could, considering the strange fixation on the post-surgery tableau: “I look around the room, behind me there are cotton balls stained with red and the suture kit is opened, looking a little disheveled, like it threw up all its tiny scissors and thread and scalpels. This is a still life with trauma and I am its museum,” she writes.
She goes home. She has more sex. She launches a GoFundMe for dental surgery while privately acknowledging she herself would never donate money to a drunk who drove into a wall (I’m paraphrasing).
There are also footnotes. In lesser hands these might feel academic or distracting, but here they function less as literary devices than as tactical reloads – brief demonstrations that the author remains mentally combat-ready despite overwhelming structural damage. I personally enjoyed them, although I did spend much of the book wishing the audiobook version would read them in a completely different voice, maybe David Attenborough, as though calmly narrating the mating ritual of a rare Arctic seabird: “Guilt and shame are intrinsically connected to each other. But where guilt is associated with a sense of personal responsibility for a specific behaviour or action – here it is about me feeling the ick over the GoFundme fibbing – that is perceived as morally or socially inappropriate, shame is a more global evaluation of the self. Guilt is often accompanied by remorse and a desire to make amends or correct the wrongdoing.”
The middle sections, “Drunk Poland” and “Sober Poland” turn increasingly international, increasingly punishing, and deeply concerned with the consequences of violating a personal code only our hero understands. In “Drunk Poland,” the author drinks, destroys an important friendship, damages her relationship with her son, and generally moves through social situations with the unstoppable momentum of a stuntman falling down seventeen flights of stairs. Then there is the dog section, which initially suggests the book may finally be entering its “healing era.” (Readers familiar with the John Wick franchise will understand why this feeling should not be trusted.)
Eventually the author reveals her deepest shame to a group of people and returns to Poland once more, because every prestige sequel franchise eventually circles back to the original location where the trauma began.
The prose is lean, fast, and emotionally blah blah blah blah blah Bydlowska does not ask for admiration, and she is suspicious of easy empowerment narratives. The title’s central concept – “unshaming” – is described as an attempt to neutralize shame through radical acknowledgment rather than denial. That idea could easily collapse into self-help rhetoric but here, it becomes something more difficult and compelling: an ongoing practice of witnessing oneself without turning away. I really have nothing bad to say about this book because it’s perfect.
Am I bitter? Yes Not at all. Even though writing this book occasionally felt like cutting out part of my soul, pan-frying it like a sirloin, and serving it to the public (nearmeat for the vegans). And I have now publicly sacrificed my first-born twice in memoir form.
Anyway, that’s fine, Globe and NYT, you don’t want to review it, I will do it for you – we authors already have to do so much self-promo, what’s one more indignity and I have seen authors create fake review accounts and slap five stars on their own books (you know who you are). As for me, since I no longer have *any* shame -- having written Unshaming -- I am slapping five stars on my own book overtly and here's the rest of my review.
Okay, first of all, you should totally buy it. The prose is sharp, the emotional honesty is devastating, and unlike many memoirs, this one contains actual stakes, including but not limited to broken bones, public humiliation, international espionage and a dog. Some people say it’s a follow-up to Drunk Mom and like in every sequel, we meet our hero many years later, older, wearier, and dragged back into the game against her will. Like John Wick, she thought she was out. But shame pulled her back in.
It starts with the protagonist waking up after a blackout and realizing her body has been turned into the physical condition of John Wick roughly twenty minutes into any John Wick movie: shattered, concussed yet somehow still expected to continue the story. Instead of immediately seeking meaningful help, however, she seduces her boyfriend so that she can pretend everything is fine for a few more minutes (fun fact, women don’t like prolonged lovemaking sessions and with broken bones, this is an especially dangerous endeavour).
After finally calling the paramedics, our heroine goes to the hospital and invents a fake story about the accident, following the sacred John Wick tradition of insisting everything is fine while covered in catastrophic injuries. Unlike John Wick she doesn’t stitch up her own face but we have a feeling she would if she could, considering the strange fixation on the post-surgery tableau: “I look around the room, behind me there are cotton balls stained with red and the suture kit is opened, looking a little disheveled, like it threw up all its tiny scissors and thread and scalpels. This is a still life with trauma and I am its museum,” she writes.
She goes home. She has more sex. She launches a GoFundMe for dental surgery while privately acknowledging she herself would never donate money to a drunk who drove into a wall (I’m paraphrasing).
There are also footnotes. In lesser hands these might feel academic or distracting, but here they function less as literary devices than as tactical reloads – brief demonstrations that the author remains mentally combat-ready despite overwhelming structural damage. I personally enjoyed them, although I did spend much of the book wishing the audiobook version would read them in a completely different voice, maybe David Attenborough, as though calmly narrating the mating ritual of a rare Arctic seabird: “Guilt and shame are intrinsically connected to each other. But where guilt is associated with a sense of personal responsibility for a specific behaviour or action – here it is about me feeling the ick over the GoFundme fibbing – that is perceived as morally or socially inappropriate, shame is a more global evaluation of the self. Guilt is often accompanied by remorse and a desire to make amends or correct the wrongdoing.”
The middle sections, “Drunk Poland” and “Sober Poland” turn increasingly international, increasingly punishing, and deeply concerned with the consequences of violating a personal code only our hero understands. In “Drunk Poland,” the author drinks, destroys an important friendship, damages her relationship with her son, and generally moves through social situations with the unstoppable momentum of a stuntman falling down seventeen flights of stairs. Then there is the dog section, which initially suggests the book may finally be entering its “healing era.” (Readers familiar with the John Wick franchise will understand why this feeling should not be trusted.)
Eventually the author reveals her deepest shame to a group of people and returns to Poland once more, because every prestige sequel franchise eventually circles back to the original location where the trauma began.
The prose is lean, fast, and emotionally blah blah blah blah blah Bydlowska does not ask for admiration, and she is suspicious of easy empowerment narratives. The title’s central concept – “unshaming” – is described as an attempt to neutralize shame through radical acknowledgment rather than denial. That idea could easily collapse into self-help rhetoric but here, it becomes something more difficult and compelling: an ongoing practice of witnessing oneself without turning away. I really have nothing bad to say about this book because it’s perfect.
June 15, 2026
2.5. Didn’t love it. I loved Drunk Mom when it came out though. I think this book would have landed better as a longform article in The Walrus or The New Yorker.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Typically, I’m not much of a memoir reader. Before “Unshaming,” I hadn’t read a memoir since Paul Auster’s “Report From the Interior.” The common thread here is that both Auster and Bydlowska are exceptionally talented writers of fiction. Although it was her previous memoir, the best-seller “Drunk Mom” that is Bydlowska’s claim to fame, it was her novels (Guy, Possessed, Monster) and short stories that drew me to her work.
Bydlowska’s fiction covers topics such as eating disorders, desire and the power imbalance between men and women in relationships, all written with her signature precision and undergirded by her comprehensive understand of human vulnerability. She brings that same clarity and honesty to her memoir-writing, and Unshaming is filled with her trademarked poignancy.
Bydlowska draws the reader in and keeps them close. Her style fits the memoir form perfectly, and compliments that tug-of-war between the exhibitionism of the author and voyeurism of the reader. There are moments in this book that elicit a whirlpool of emotions that both make you want to pause and make you want to go on reading right up to the very last page. For me, Bydlowska’s relationship with her son kept me locked in. A lesser writer would have shared too much or said too little. Bydlowska handles self-awareness and observation so skillfully that we feel simultaneous heartbreak on her behalf and that of her son.
Alcoholism has been a subject that has always fascinated me. There’s a long history of it in my family and so many of our stories talk about its effects without exploring its causes. In Unshaming, Bydlowska explores the motivating factors, and through her in-depth exploration, I feel that I not only better understand my own family, but parts of myself that I struggle to confront.
Unshaming is both deeply personal and alarmingly universal. Readers not only get a glimpse into the author’s life, her soul, but a look into their own. The insights this book offers helps one make sense of their own struggle, not with addiction exclusively, but with shame itself and the connection between trauma, shame, and addiction.
Bydlowska’s fiction covers topics such as eating disorders, desire and the power imbalance between men and women in relationships, all written with her signature precision and undergirded by her comprehensive understand of human vulnerability. She brings that same clarity and honesty to her memoir-writing, and Unshaming is filled with her trademarked poignancy.
Bydlowska draws the reader in and keeps them close. Her style fits the memoir form perfectly, and compliments that tug-of-war between the exhibitionism of the author and voyeurism of the reader. There are moments in this book that elicit a whirlpool of emotions that both make you want to pause and make you want to go on reading right up to the very last page. For me, Bydlowska’s relationship with her son kept me locked in. A lesser writer would have shared too much or said too little. Bydlowska handles self-awareness and observation so skillfully that we feel simultaneous heartbreak on her behalf and that of her son.
Alcoholism has been a subject that has always fascinated me. There’s a long history of it in my family and so many of our stories talk about its effects without exploring its causes. In Unshaming, Bydlowska explores the motivating factors, and through her in-depth exploration, I feel that I not only better understand my own family, but parts of myself that I struggle to confront.
Unshaming is both deeply personal and alarmingly universal. Readers not only get a glimpse into the author’s life, her soul, but a look into their own. The insights this book offers helps one make sense of their own struggle, not with addiction exclusively, but with shame itself and the connection between trauma, shame, and addiction.
April 2, 2026
Unshaming is a striking and unfiltered continuation of Jowita Bydlowska’s exploration of addiction and recovery one that moves beyond resolution and into the far more complex reality of relapse and its emotional aftermath. Rather than offering closure, the memoir deliberately unsettles the idea that recovery follows a clean, linear path.
What stands out most is the author’s refusal to dilute the experience of shame. The narrative leans fully into discomfort, exposing the tension between public perception and private struggle. This honesty, paired with moments of sharp insight and dark humor, creates a voice that feels both immediate and deeply human.
The book also challenges the conventional framework of recovery stories. By questioning the idea of a definitive “after,” it opens up a more nuanced understanding of healing one that includes contradiction, vulnerability, and ongoing self-confrontation. This perspective gives the memoir a depth that resonates beyond personal storytelling.
Overall, Unshaming is a bold and necessary work that expands the conversation around addiction. It does not aim to reassure it aims to tell the truth, and in doing so, it leaves a lasting impact.
What stands out most is the author’s refusal to dilute the experience of shame. The narrative leans fully into discomfort, exposing the tension between public perception and private struggle. This honesty, paired with moments of sharp insight and dark humor, creates a voice that feels both immediate and deeply human.
The book also challenges the conventional framework of recovery stories. By questioning the idea of a definitive “after,” it opens up a more nuanced understanding of healing one that includes contradiction, vulnerability, and ongoing self-confrontation. This perspective gives the memoir a depth that resonates beyond personal storytelling.
Overall, Unshaming is a bold and necessary work that expands the conversation around addiction. It does not aim to reassure it aims to tell the truth, and in doing so, it leaves a lasting impact.
April 8, 2026
Among the many arresting sentences and images in Jowita Bydlowska's beautifully searing memoir Unshaming, this one has a special grip on me: "You are the drunkard on your own planet." Not because Artemis 2 has taken four humans the furthest away we've ever been from Earth. But because I was an astronaut on a drunken planet of my own for decades. While reading this book, I learned a lot about shame. It's a corrosive emotion and, as the author argues, it's also a state of being. So many of us carry it in varying quantities, deep inside. Yet as Jowita expertly shows us, we can unshame too. We can skin ourselves out of the demeaning narratives about addictions and people who relapse. Essential to that task is deciding how much we want to mean to ourselves.
At many points, especially during descriptions of experiences that were oh-so familiar, I felt as though my vagus nerve complex was hotwiring itself. To uncover hidden things and create a space for some of those things to surface. It did this best a stone age organ made of stardust can do, which is to say incomplete but also undeniable. It's my job to decide what I want to soothe, name, and tuck away again. I'm grateful for this book and know that it will help many of us.
At many points, especially during descriptions of experiences that were oh-so familiar, I felt as though my vagus nerve complex was hotwiring itself. To uncover hidden things and create a space for some of those things to surface. It did this best a stone age organ made of stardust can do, which is to say incomplete but also undeniable. It's my job to decide what I want to soothe, name, and tuck away again. I'm grateful for this book and know that it will help many of us.
Review of advance copy received from Author
How does one review a memoir? It feels off to be forming any opinion on someone sharing their story, particularly one that is this deeply personal. But here I am. I felt so heart broken and sad for Jowita and her son. I read Drunk Mom, and to know that she has struggled mightily still was while not surprising, really sad. It felt like I was taken behind a curtain and shown the depth of pain and yes shame.. and it wasn’t mine to see. But understanding that to see it is to know we aren’t alone. To not be alone is the beginning of hope. I ended the book with a feeling of hope and renewed sense that yes recovery is actually possible. Healing is possible.
June 2, 2026
This book made me sit in my own discomfort and second-hand shame. There's something so charismatic about Jowita, such a femme fetale energy that just makes you root for her. And yet, with that love it's hard to shake the feeling of getting mad at her for "letting" this go on for so long. And then you realize what a privilege it is to be able to say, "I'm sick of your addiction, get it together". Because in reality addiction never goes away. Mental illness, chronic illness, never goes away. You have to love the person even as you see them literally hitting walls and breaking their teeth. Another beautiful memoir.
May 5, 2026
Unshaming is both heart wrenching and full of hard-earned hope. Not just because of the subject matter, but because of the beautiful prose and the level of wisdom and self-reflection in it. It’s rare to read something that feels this honest without bordering on exhibitionism.
Having lost both my mother and my brother to addiction in the past three years, this opened my eyes to parts of their story I hadn’t really been able to see before. For that, I’m incredibly grateful.
Having lost both my mother and my brother to addiction in the past three years, this opened my eyes to parts of their story I hadn’t really been able to see before. For that, I’m incredibly grateful.
August 10, 2026
At first, I was put off by the repetitiveness of the story, seemingly a closed loop revolving around a singular event (and possibly by the topic). But I stayed for character development, that I have never seen before.
Particularly interesting when you're a Polish person who just migrated to Canada and can picture every place mentioned in the memoir
Particularly interesting when you're a Polish person who just migrated to Canada and can picture every place mentioned in the memoir
July 1, 2026
DNF. I read about 1/3 of the book but felt like it was going in circles a bit and didn't really see where it was heading.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews