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Fatty Fatty Boom Boom: A Memoir of Food, Fat, and Family
From the bestselling author and host of the wildly popular Undisclosed podcast, a warm, intimate memoir about food, body image, and growing up in a loving but sometimes oppressively concerned Pakistani immigrant family.
"My entire life I have been less fat and more fat, but never not fat." According to family lore, when Rabia Chaudry’s family returned to Pakistan for their first visit since moving to the United States, two-year-old Rabia was more than just a pudgy toddler. Dada Abu, her fit and sprightly grandfather, attempted to pick her up but had to put her straight back down, demanding of Chaudry’s mother: “What have you done to her?” The answer was two full bottles of half-and-half per day, frozen butter sticks to gnaw on, and lots and lots of American processed foods.
And yet, despite her parents plying her with all the wrong foods as they discovered Burger King and Dairy Queen, they were highly concerned for the future for their large-sized daughter. How would she ever find a suitable husband? There was merciless teasing by uncles, cousins, and kids at school, but Chaudry always loved food too much to hold a grudge against it. Soon she would leave behind fast food and come to love the Pakistani foods of her heritage, learning to cook them with wholesome ingredients and eat them in moderation. At once a love letter (with recipes) to fresh roti, chaat, chicken biryani, ghee, pakoras, shorba, parathay and an often hilarious dissection of life in a Muslim immigrant family, Fatty Fatty Boom Boom is also a searingly honest portrait of a woman grappling with a body that gets the job done but that refuses to meet the expectations of others.
Chaudry's memoir offers readers a relatable and powerful voice on the controversial topic of body image, one that dispenses with the politics and gets to what every woman who has ever struggled with weight will relate to.
"My entire life I have been less fat and more fat, but never not fat." According to family lore, when Rabia Chaudry’s family returned to Pakistan for their first visit since moving to the United States, two-year-old Rabia was more than just a pudgy toddler. Dada Abu, her fit and sprightly grandfather, attempted to pick her up but had to put her straight back down, demanding of Chaudry’s mother: “What have you done to her?” The answer was two full bottles of half-and-half per day, frozen butter sticks to gnaw on, and lots and lots of American processed foods.
And yet, despite her parents plying her with all the wrong foods as they discovered Burger King and Dairy Queen, they were highly concerned for the future for their large-sized daughter. How would she ever find a suitable husband? There was merciless teasing by uncles, cousins, and kids at school, but Chaudry always loved food too much to hold a grudge against it. Soon she would leave behind fast food and come to love the Pakistani foods of her heritage, learning to cook them with wholesome ingredients and eat them in moderation. At once a love letter (with recipes) to fresh roti, chaat, chicken biryani, ghee, pakoras, shorba, parathay and an often hilarious dissection of life in a Muslim immigrant family, Fatty Fatty Boom Boom is also a searingly honest portrait of a woman grappling with a body that gets the job done but that refuses to meet the expectations of others.
Chaudry's memoir offers readers a relatable and powerful voice on the controversial topic of body image, one that dispenses with the politics and gets to what every woman who has ever struggled with weight will relate to.
352 pages, Audiobook
First published January 1, 2022
472 people are currently reading
8842 people want to read
About the author
Rabia Chaudry
7 books304 followersQ&A with The Innocence Project (Innocence Blog): August 2016
In 2014, attorney and writer Rabia Chaudry contacted producer Sarah Koenig at This American Life to pitch a story about the 1999 murder case of Maryland teenager Hae Min Lee. The result was Serial, one of the most successful podcast ever produced. The series—downloaded 100 million times—put Adnan Syed, the young man convicted of the 1999 murder, in the spotlight, and highlighted aspects of the investigation that Syed’s supporters, including Chaudry, say reveal his innocence.
But Chaudry says that Serial didn’t tell the whole story. In response, she’s released Adnan’s Story: The Search for Truth and Justice After Serial, her new book which delves into important case details not covered in Serial. The book also includes written recollections and insights from Syed himself.
Earlier this week, Chaudry spoke with the Innocence Blog about her reasons for writing the book and how Serial got some of the story wrong.
Innocence Blog: You have been an incredible champion for Adnan. Did you ever think, back in 2000 when he was convicted, that you would eventually play such an important role in his case?
Rabia Chaudry: Absolutely not. I was in law school [when the case started]. I had no experience in criminal law—not then, not even now really. The thing that I hoped to do, after the conviction especially, was help the family select good attorneys.
I really had a lot of confidence in the system—that there had been a tremendous mistake. Especially after Cristina Gutierrez (Adnan’s trial attorney) was disbarred and became ill. I thought: “The Maryland judiciary system knows—everybody knows—what she went through and how that must have affected her clients.” There was a part of me that thought, “How could those cases that she had in her last couple of years not be given a little more attention to see what really went wrong?”
But I never imagined that it would be like this. And I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted the system to work. It’s ridiculous that it would take this long. And it’s crazy that it would take so much media and so many resources and investigators to correct something like this.
IB: Knowing all of the information that was out there—with Serial, with your podcast Undisclosed and your blog—what then spurred the book?
RC: Actually, it started before the Undisclosed podcast even began. When Serial was airing I was blogging every week in response to it. And I had been writing for many years for different outlets and across a spectrum of issues—a lot of political issues and issues around bigotry and civil rights. There was a literary agent who read my blog and had seen my other writing and said, “You should consider writing a book.” And I said, “Oh, that would be great. I’d love to write a book. I’ve always wanted to write a novel.” And she said, “No, I mean about Adnan’s case.”
I had never considered it. It was overwhelming. I didn’t know the case as well as I needed to, even at that point. The case documents—I hadn’t seen them in many, many years. They had gone from Adnan’s home to Sarah Koenig. And she had given me an electronic copy once, but for me to have my daily full-time job, plus my family, plus a blog—I didn’t have the time to go through the documents.
So when the agent contacted me, I said, “Absolutely not. I can’t do it. And, it would feel a little exploitive. I’m not comfortable with that.” But then she raised an excellent point.
She told me that somebody was eventually going to write the book. It could be me—someone who knows Adnan, knows the lawyers, knows Sarah Koenig, knows more about the story than anyone could know, and who also is very concerned about protecting Adnan’s interest. Or, it could be another journalist. “It’s your choice,” she said. So, I talked to Adnan about it and told him that she made a good argument. He told me that if I wanted to do it, I had his permission.
I ended up writing 800
In 2014, attorney and writer Rabia Chaudry contacted producer Sarah Koenig at This American Life to pitch a story about the 1999 murder case of Maryland teenager Hae Min Lee. The result was Serial, one of the most successful podcast ever produced. The series—downloaded 100 million times—put Adnan Syed, the young man convicted of the 1999 murder, in the spotlight, and highlighted aspects of the investigation that Syed’s supporters, including Chaudry, say reveal his innocence.
But Chaudry says that Serial didn’t tell the whole story. In response, she’s released Adnan’s Story: The Search for Truth and Justice After Serial, her new book which delves into important case details not covered in Serial. The book also includes written recollections and insights from Syed himself.
Earlier this week, Chaudry spoke with the Innocence Blog about her reasons for writing the book and how Serial got some of the story wrong.
Innocence Blog: You have been an incredible champion for Adnan. Did you ever think, back in 2000 when he was convicted, that you would eventually play such an important role in his case?
Rabia Chaudry: Absolutely not. I was in law school [when the case started]. I had no experience in criminal law—not then, not even now really. The thing that I hoped to do, after the conviction especially, was help the family select good attorneys.
I really had a lot of confidence in the system—that there had been a tremendous mistake. Especially after Cristina Gutierrez (Adnan’s trial attorney) was disbarred and became ill. I thought: “The Maryland judiciary system knows—everybody knows—what she went through and how that must have affected her clients.” There was a part of me that thought, “How could those cases that she had in her last couple of years not be given a little more attention to see what really went wrong?”
But I never imagined that it would be like this. And I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted the system to work. It’s ridiculous that it would take this long. And it’s crazy that it would take so much media and so many resources and investigators to correct something like this.
IB: Knowing all of the information that was out there—with Serial, with your podcast Undisclosed and your blog—what then spurred the book?
RC: Actually, it started before the Undisclosed podcast even began. When Serial was airing I was blogging every week in response to it. And I had been writing for many years for different outlets and across a spectrum of issues—a lot of political issues and issues around bigotry and civil rights. There was a literary agent who read my blog and had seen my other writing and said, “You should consider writing a book.” And I said, “Oh, that would be great. I’d love to write a book. I’ve always wanted to write a novel.” And she said, “No, I mean about Adnan’s case.”
I had never considered it. It was overwhelming. I didn’t know the case as well as I needed to, even at that point. The case documents—I hadn’t seen them in many, many years. They had gone from Adnan’s home to Sarah Koenig. And she had given me an electronic copy once, but for me to have my daily full-time job, plus my family, plus a blog—I didn’t have the time to go through the documents.
So when the agent contacted me, I said, “Absolutely not. I can’t do it. And, it would feel a little exploitive. I’m not comfortable with that.” But then she raised an excellent point.
She told me that somebody was eventually going to write the book. It could be me—someone who knows Adnan, knows the lawyers, knows Sarah Koenig, knows more about the story than anyone could know, and who also is very concerned about protecting Adnan’s interest. Or, it could be another journalist. “It’s your choice,” she said. So, I talked to Adnan about it and told him that she made a good argument. He told me that if I wanted to do it, I had his permission.
I ended up writing 800
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 646 reviews
January 8, 2023
I didn’t know anything about Rabia Chaudry going into this book (I didn’t listen to Serial and I hadn’t heard of Adnan’s case). I left this book thinking she’s not only extremely funny but also brilliant at what she does, however I feel like I have to leave this review because it’s what I needed before I picked this book up.
Chaudry dedicates this book to “all those who have spent their lives being judged — and judging themselves — for their weight, who have struggled between deprivation and depravity, and who deserve like anyone else to live an abundant life full of great food.”
I feel my issues with this book are summed up with the direct contrast between that dedication and the final sentence in the book: “But I am and will likely remain, by the standards of many, fat. But that’s okay, because I’m not that fat.”
The pros:
I loved Chaudry’s narrative voice and her stories of Pakistan. I listened to this on audio and I really loved my reading experience.
The cons:
I felt this book did not “show us how freeing it is to finally make peace with the body we have” as the inside cover states, but reiterates the stance that the author is finally okay with her “not that fat” body and she has achieved being not that fat through lots and lots of diet and exercise (6 days a week, one “cheat meal”), lots of money spent on personal trainers, as well as two surgeries.
Again, I left this book really loving the narration and wanting to know so much more about Chaudry’s work, however the marketing surrounding the book and the some of its stances invited criticism given the nature of the subject matter.
TW: uses specific weight numbers, ascribes food with morality, descriptions of binge eating, EDs, and the o-word
Chaudry dedicates this book to “all those who have spent their lives being judged — and judging themselves — for their weight, who have struggled between deprivation and depravity, and who deserve like anyone else to live an abundant life full of great food.”
I feel my issues with this book are summed up with the direct contrast between that dedication and the final sentence in the book: “But I am and will likely remain, by the standards of many, fat. But that’s okay, because I’m not that fat.”
The pros:
I loved Chaudry’s narrative voice and her stories of Pakistan. I listened to this on audio and I really loved my reading experience.
The cons:
I felt this book did not “show us how freeing it is to finally make peace with the body we have” as the inside cover states, but reiterates the stance that the author is finally okay with her “not that fat” body and she has achieved being not that fat through lots and lots of diet and exercise (6 days a week, one “cheat meal”), lots of money spent on personal trainers, as well as two surgeries.
Again, I left this book really loving the narration and wanting to know so much more about Chaudry’s work, however the marketing surrounding the book and the some of its stances invited criticism given the nature of the subject matter.
TW: uses specific weight numbers, ascribes food with morality, descriptions of binge eating, EDs, and the o-word
May 30, 2023
3.0 Stars
I have followed the Serial podcast and subsequent case, but I did not want my biases to affect this reading experience. I felt very sympathetic to her childhood experience and horrible abusive marriage. I appreciated her honesty and vulnerability. However, I was disappointed by the fatphobic message that fills her narrative. She acknowledges her long running hatred of her body but it's disappointing that she only learned to love herself by losing weight.
I have followed the Serial podcast and subsequent case, but I did not want my biases to affect this reading experience. I felt very sympathetic to her childhood experience and horrible abusive marriage. I appreciated her honesty and vulnerability. However, I was disappointed by the fatphobic message that fills her narrative. She acknowledges her long running hatred of her body but it's disappointing that she only learned to love herself by losing weight.
March 4, 2023
Ugh. Such mixed feelings on this one. Familiar with Chaudry from her legal advocacy work and podcast, but can't deny that it's the title of this memoir that made me pick it up. While Chaudry has written a compelling immigrant story that transported me into her world - complete with colorful stories of Pakistan's history, culture and food - it's also a painful story of fat-shaming family and friends, anti-fat cultures, disordered eating, compulsive dieting cycles, and body hate. I do appreciate Chaudry for her honesty and vulnerability. Powerful systems and the insidiousness of shame often keep us from sharing our stories and thus we stay alone with our pain and self-loathing. So yay for her! The problem comes when I think about the message of this book…the fat-shamers and anti-fat were never condemned, instead Chaudry details all of her acquiescing, self-harming, and coping behaviors as if this is just what we have to do to be accepted and loved. Yuk. I have all the compassion for Chaudry - the process of loving your body as it is, rejecting the lies that fat = ugly/unhealthy/lazy, and overcoming a lifetime of shame and poisonous programming, is one of the most difficult things most people could ever do - and I do believe Chaudry is in the midst of this process. But I think she wrote this book too soon in her journey to self-love and, therefore, it’s one that perpetuates all our world’s most harmful messages.
She concludes her book by saying things like, "I still don't love my body, I'm not happy with it, just as most people aren't perfectly happy with their bodies." And, "So, yes, it's normal not to love your body." Again, what is your message?! And I disagree, IT IS ABSOLUTELY ABNORMAL to not love your body. We are victims of systems and cultures that cause us to fragment our minds from our bodies and hate ourselves. This is not normal!! Stop normalizing it!! God knows we don’t need another source that perpetuates lies that oppress. What we need instead are more stories from people demanding dignity, respect, and care for humans of all sizes and abilities.
So how do I rate this book? Is it beautifully and bravely written - yes! Did I enjoy much of it - yes! Would I recommend anyone read it who isn't already on the healing-side of body acceptance - that's a big, fat NO.
She concludes her book by saying things like, "I still don't love my body, I'm not happy with it, just as most people aren't perfectly happy with their bodies." And, "So, yes, it's normal not to love your body." Again, what is your message?! And I disagree, IT IS ABSOLUTELY ABNORMAL to not love your body. We are victims of systems and cultures that cause us to fragment our minds from our bodies and hate ourselves. This is not normal!! Stop normalizing it!! God knows we don’t need another source that perpetuates lies that oppress. What we need instead are more stories from people demanding dignity, respect, and care for humans of all sizes and abilities.
So how do I rate this book? Is it beautifully and bravely written - yes! Did I enjoy much of it - yes! Would I recommend anyone read it who isn't already on the healing-side of body acceptance - that's a big, fat NO.
July 26, 2022
If you know Rabia Chaudry from her Twitter feed or her tireless advocacy work on behalf of Adnan Syed, you know how lovely she is. You get to meet her whole extended family in "Fatty Fatty Boom Boom," a story about the Pakistani immigrant experience and how food is at the center of it all, though this coming-of-age journey will also be relatable to anyone who has struggled with their weight or just feeling out of control of their own body. I will add a TRIGGER WARNING for ED and a few scenes of abuse, though Chaudry mercifully doesn't go into details regarding the latter. If you find yourself craving some of the delectable dishes she describes in the book, you're in luck; there is an addendum with several recipes.
The book was delightful, and I finished it in a couple of days.
The book was delightful, and I finished it in a couple of days.
January 16, 2023
did not finish ~70% finished - TW for extreme fat phobia, disclosing weight and pant size, and vivid descriptions of binge eating and dabbling in eating disorders
i truly do not understand the hype/positive praise for this book. this was legitimately traumatic to read as a fat person. this author has zero critical reflection on her relationship with her body, food, or her and her family’s deeply fatphobic beliefs and behaviors. this is not a story of self acceptance or even body neutrality. this is a wildly uncomfortable and uncritical account of a woman’s obsession with her weight and her/her families overwhelming fear of her becoming fat.
i truly do not understand the hype/positive praise for this book. this was legitimately traumatic to read as a fat person. this author has zero critical reflection on her relationship with her body, food, or her and her family’s deeply fatphobic beliefs and behaviors. this is not a story of self acceptance or even body neutrality. this is a wildly uncomfortable and uncritical account of a woman’s obsession with her weight and her/her families overwhelming fear of her becoming fat.
November 12, 2022
I was going to give this a 4, but the scene where the uncles pretend that she’s Parvaiz Musharraf’s niece makes it a 5.
This book was almost literally relatable at points which felt weird and made me realize that some things are just universal.
This book was almost literally relatable at points which felt weird and made me realize that some things are just universal.
January 4, 2023
I think Rabia's great, but in the end this book just made me sad.
May 23, 2025
Most of us who have shouldered a lifelong struggle with body weight tuck that shame away in hidden places; in this compelling memoir, Rabia Chaudry brings it out in all its messy, delicious, complicated glory and serves up tasty recipes alongside.
I admit, it took me until halfway through to really catch her rhythm and style. (I'm one of 3 remaining people who hasn't read her blog or listened to "Serial" or seen the miniseries). Once I got to know her though, I was completely hooked. I was also caught off guard by some honest, heart-wrenching moments that felt so personally familiar to me that I had to walk away from this book for a little while.
She's braver than I am on many fronts. I am simply grateful I've gotten to know her through her writing.
I admit, it took me until halfway through to really catch her rhythm and style. (I'm one of 3 remaining people who hasn't read her blog or listened to "Serial" or seen the miniseries). Once I got to know her though, I was completely hooked. I was also caught off guard by some honest, heart-wrenching moments that felt so personally familiar to me that I had to walk away from this book for a little while.
She's braver than I am on many fronts. I am simply grateful I've gotten to know her through her writing.
January 30, 2023
This is one of the best body positivity books that I have encountered. Chaundry takes ours around her life’s timeline addressing her best and worst moments in liaison to her eating habits, diet, fitness, and weight. In the beginning, the message I was getting rang a bit like What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat - instead of preaching that diets never work for overweight people, the author sort of ‘blamed’ her mother for prescribing her to an adulthood of fatness. I used to be fat and then I got into fitness and started moderating my food intake and, voilà, lost half my weight in a year and my BMI has never reached the overweight area again. I am not trying to say BMI is a good standard here, it isn’t - I’m just saying what your body looks like and feels like is about what you do every day: weight loss diets can work and kids who were thin or overweight in their childhood can become thin or overweight after. Nothing is set in stone.
Now, I think Chaundry lost me a bit in the first chapters, but then she started taking full ownership of her body, which I liked. I think she did a great job at tying bad and great moments of her life to food and being logical in some bits - if you’re working 10+ hours a day seating, it can be tough to look after your fitness. Enjoying food, liking cooking, social events, traveling, sedentary work (and long hours), stress, unhappiness, pregnancy - these are way better explanations for one’s weight than ‘diets don’t work’ or ‘my mom made me drink cans of heavy cream when I was a kid.’
Books like Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body and What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat have something in common with Fatty Fatty Boom Boom - they read like apologies. “I tried to be skinny, but I couldn’t,” and I think that’s absolutely fair. But somehow, I wonder if I will ever find a body positivity book where the author doesn’t need to explain the many diets and surgeries they have gone through to be thin. I think Chaundry’s final chapter was beautiful - choosing fitness and what her body can do over anything; not giving a damn about her size as long as she can do her circuits, do box jumps, and roll them wheels. I wish this message had been stronger throughout the book.
So, yeah, shaky start but all in all, this was a great read.
Now, I think Chaundry lost me a bit in the first chapters, but then she started taking full ownership of her body, which I liked. I think she did a great job at tying bad and great moments of her life to food and being logical in some bits - if you’re working 10+ hours a day seating, it can be tough to look after your fitness. Enjoying food, liking cooking, social events, traveling, sedentary work (and long hours), stress, unhappiness, pregnancy - these are way better explanations for one’s weight than ‘diets don’t work’ or ‘my mom made me drink cans of heavy cream when I was a kid.’
Books like Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body and What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat have something in common with Fatty Fatty Boom Boom - they read like apologies. “I tried to be skinny, but I couldn’t,” and I think that’s absolutely fair. But somehow, I wonder if I will ever find a body positivity book where the author doesn’t need to explain the many diets and surgeries they have gone through to be thin. I think Chaundry’s final chapter was beautiful - choosing fitness and what her body can do over anything; not giving a damn about her size as long as she can do her circuits, do box jumps, and roll them wheels. I wish this message had been stronger throughout the book.
So, yeah, shaky start but all in all, this was a great read.
November 7, 2022
Anyone who knows me knows I'm a huge fan of Rabia Chaudry. I've listened to her podcast for several years and really respect her. I was apprehensive to read this memoir because it didn't jive with the perception I have of her. I just have no interest in reading a memoir of a generally normal-sized woman griping with being fat. But after reading her other book and following her over the years and learning about her family, I decided to give it a shot.
Overall, I am glad I read it. I loved hearing about her Pakistani culture, especially the food. I loved hearing about her family and her experiences as an immigrant. Rabia is a fantastic writer, but I wished I had the audiobook because her voice is so beautiful as well. I don't want to discount her experience as a Pakistani woman who is larger than the normal, because it does seem like her entire life, family, and upbringing was focused on her weight and physical perception. I just generally did not agree with the final conclusions she came to about her journey, and it seemed like she's writing this book too soon. I'd love to see where she ends up in a few years and see if she is more at peace with the entire story. I remain a Rabia stan.
Overall, I am glad I read it. I loved hearing about her Pakistani culture, especially the food. I loved hearing about her family and her experiences as an immigrant. Rabia is a fantastic writer, but I wished I had the audiobook because her voice is so beautiful as well. I don't want to discount her experience as a Pakistani woman who is larger than the normal, because it does seem like her entire life, family, and upbringing was focused on her weight and physical perception. I just generally did not agree with the final conclusions she came to about her journey, and it seemed like she's writing this book too soon. I'd love to see where she ends up in a few years and see if she is more at peace with the entire story. I remain a Rabia stan.
March 9, 2023
DNF at 88% - the fatphohia is so bad, the blurb is misleading - she doesn’t have acceptance. I decided to DNF because I was resisting picking it back up and many reviews quote the last line and I knew there was no redemption. This is embarrassing for a woman who is so well respected and it is mind boggling so many folks gave it a high review. Did we read the same book?
I also found the theme of American foods to blame for her weight to be tiresome. And then when she actually gave her highest weight about 80% or more into the book, major eye roll. What person that size needs custom made clothing??
I gave it two stars instead of one because I did genuinely enjoy the early parts of the book, learning about her culture and her family dynamic.
Do not recommend.
I also found the theme of American foods to blame for her weight to be tiresome. And then when she actually gave her highest weight about 80% or more into the book, major eye roll. What person that size needs custom made clothing??
I gave it two stars instead of one because I did genuinely enjoy the early parts of the book, learning about her culture and her family dynamic.
Do not recommend.
June 25, 2023
I wish I had been able to listen to the audiobook. I mostly thought the writing was just okay other than her amazing descriptions of food, and because of that I think it took away from the story for me. I did enjoy hearing about how she grew up and her culture, especially the food.
I don’t usually find it hard to empathize with people, even if it involves something that I haven’t experienced myself, but I had a hard time feeling much empathy for Rabia. If this was just supposed to be a memoir of her life and not a story of acceptance, I would have rated it higher. It didn’t feel like she made peace with her body at any point. It felt like a woman who had been made to feel bad about her weight her whole life and still has a long way to go to overcome that. I think the last line of the book sums that up pretty well.
I don’t usually find it hard to empathize with people, even if it involves something that I haven’t experienced myself, but I had a hard time feeling much empathy for Rabia. If this was just supposed to be a memoir of her life and not a story of acceptance, I would have rated it higher. It didn’t feel like she made peace with her body at any point. It felt like a woman who had been made to feel bad about her weight her whole life and still has a long way to go to overcome that. I think the last line of the book sums that up pretty well.
January 15, 2023
Wow was this a disappointment. Chaudry’s descriptions of food are beautiful, probably some of the best that I’ve read. Unfortunately, her focus on her weight is at best incredibly boring and at worst, terribly offensive and fat phobic. I wish I could recommend it for the food writing, but the weight loss garbage takes over by the second half and made it almost unreadable for me.
November 9, 2022
Growing up chubby and growing chubbier is a hard fact to face. Yet food addiction did not hinder the drive to be successful. Cultural norms aside, Chaundry marries, births a daughter, and gets a degree. After the marriage fails, she leaves her abusive husband and in-laws, intent to better herself further. Settling into an immigration law office and the intent to reduce her weight, she laterally adds in a new love with another foodie. They both have success with loss, but relapse soon after they marry.. but the knowing is there. It can be done. And done again it is. This is her story. Family history of place and connection set the pace as we jog along the there to here. And because she is still a foodie, albeit more reserved, she finishes her story with the recipes to the dishes enjoyed along the way. (A whole chapter full!)
July 23, 2023
What a bummer that this book is absolutely steeped in anti-fatness. The final line is literally: “But that’s okay, because I’m not *that* fat.”
February 22, 2024
4.5 Stars. Although, she frustrated me sometimes, I loved this book. I especially loved the recipes at the end. She didn't just put the recipes in there, she explained them. I loved the travel to Pakistan, and now I'm seeking out Pakistani restaurants in Houston. I admit that I have seen them, but not been.
January 6, 2023
With a title like "Fatty Fatty Boom Boom," this might not sound like an altogether "serious" book, but it most definitely is. It is also one of the more memorable memoirs I've read - or at least I feel like it will stay with me more than most memoirs do.
Chaudry, of the podcast "Undisclosed" and of "Serial" fame (which I was unaware of when first picking up the book), tells her story of growing up between cultures - in many ways getting the worst of both - cultural misogyny and abuse, of a life-long struggle with her weight, of her love of food, and about finally having found her way to a place and life that she is content with.
This book gave me more than I expected, and I imagine that it might do the same for most readers, but there is a lot to recognize here as well - even such little details as dealing with different ways of dividing a chicken. Overall, the author found a good balance between cultural criticisms and being too critical so as to cause undue offense or pointing undeserved fingers. It's a balance that's difficult to achieve and Chaudry deserves full props for finding it.
If anything, I think she pulled more punches than she had to.
The central theme throughout the book is food, food cultures, and the author's (external and internal) struggles with her weight. This is also the area that is likely to be most broadly relatable and recognizable. It's disgusting how we (the world in general, but also - as in the case of the author, on a personal and familial level) treat people who don't fit into our beauty ideals (whichever these may be depending on who and where). The amount of fat-shaming illustrated in this book is staggering.
And the body-shaming doesn't end there. Towards the end of the book Chaudry also covers the backlash she has faced as she got fitter and lost weight. In a very real way, the author shows how, in the eyes of countless others - from intimate relations to complete strangers - there is always something wrong with her or what she's doing. But she also shares how much unconditional love she has received - again from intimate relations to complete strangers. In the end, she lands in the realization that the only opinion she is beholden to, is her own.
Fittingly, maybe this isn't the book to suit everyone's tastes, but I liked it.
Chaudry, of the podcast "Undisclosed" and of "Serial" fame (which I was unaware of when first picking up the book), tells her story of growing up between cultures - in many ways getting the worst of both - cultural misogyny and abuse, of a life-long struggle with her weight, of her love of food, and about finally having found her way to a place and life that she is content with.
This book gave me more than I expected, and I imagine that it might do the same for most readers, but there is a lot to recognize here as well - even such little details as dealing with different ways of dividing a chicken. Overall, the author found a good balance between cultural criticisms and being too critical so as to cause undue offense or pointing undeserved fingers. It's a balance that's difficult to achieve and Chaudry deserves full props for finding it.
If anything, I think she pulled more punches than she had to.
The central theme throughout the book is food, food cultures, and the author's (external and internal) struggles with her weight. This is also the area that is likely to be most broadly relatable and recognizable. It's disgusting how we (the world in general, but also - as in the case of the author, on a personal and familial level) treat people who don't fit into our beauty ideals (whichever these may be depending on who and where). The amount of fat-shaming illustrated in this book is staggering.
And the body-shaming doesn't end there. Towards the end of the book Chaudry also covers the backlash she has faced as she got fitter and lost weight. In a very real way, the author shows how, in the eyes of countless others - from intimate relations to complete strangers - there is always something wrong with her or what she's doing. But she also shares how much unconditional love she has received - again from intimate relations to complete strangers. In the end, she lands in the realization that the only opinion she is beholden to, is her own.
Fittingly, maybe this isn't the book to suit everyone's tastes, but I liked it.
May 31, 2023
I’ve wanted to read this book for a while. And I was right in my assumption that I would find it very very relatable. Even though the author is a Pakistani, the South Asian culture, family dynamics, the association with food, as well as all the horrible intrusive fatphobic messaging fed to us since childhood - every single aspect of this memoir hit pretty close to my heart, except maybe my family didn’t have as much lavish feasts as Arabia’s did. There’s a lot of heart and joy and vulnerability in the way she narrates her life story and I thoroughly enjoyed all those parts.
While I agree that her struggles with binge eating, dieting, all weight loss struggles, hating her own body and so much more was hard to read, I could also empathize with where she was coming from and why she felt that way. While I’ve had some similar and some very differing experiences than her, it was easy for me to understand her journey of coming to accept her body that way it is or doing whatever she felt was necessary to arrive at that acceptance stage. It may not be what the body positivity/ fat positivity movement (especially in the west) expects from a known public figure, but I’m not going to judge her for what she does to feel better in her own body, because I know how hard it is to unlearn the toxic fatphobic nonsense we desi people are fed from childhood. I hope she grows even more accepting and happy with herself in this journey and I hope I will too.
I don’t know if I can recommend this to everyone because some might find it triggering and uncomfortable. But it is steeped in both Pakistani and immigrant culture, has loads of delicious desi food descriptions that’ll make you drool and feel hungry, and the book ends with some very delicious Pakistani recipes including how to make homemade ghee and I thought that was such a highlight to end on.
While I agree that her struggles with binge eating, dieting, all weight loss struggles, hating her own body and so much more was hard to read, I could also empathize with where she was coming from and why she felt that way. While I’ve had some similar and some very differing experiences than her, it was easy for me to understand her journey of coming to accept her body that way it is or doing whatever she felt was necessary to arrive at that acceptance stage. It may not be what the body positivity/ fat positivity movement (especially in the west) expects from a known public figure, but I’m not going to judge her for what she does to feel better in her own body, because I know how hard it is to unlearn the toxic fatphobic nonsense we desi people are fed from childhood. I hope she grows even more accepting and happy with herself in this journey and I hope I will too.
I don’t know if I can recommend this to everyone because some might find it triggering and uncomfortable. But it is steeped in both Pakistani and immigrant culture, has loads of delicious desi food descriptions that’ll make you drool and feel hungry, and the book ends with some very delicious Pakistani recipes including how to make homemade ghee and I thought that was such a highlight to end on.
July 20, 2023
I stumbled upon this book on the library shelves, didn't recognize the author's name from the Serial podcast, but just by the title I knew this was a book for me. I was a chubby kid, and when I was about eight or so my father started calling me "Crisco Kid". When I asked him why he told me it was "Fat in the can just like I was" and laughed uproariously. It didn't help that I grew up near five male cousins who quickly latched onto the nickname and tortured me with it daily. I'm not sure this bothered me too much as a kid, but when I think about it six decades later, it strikes me as inordinately cruel.
As a chubby kid who grew up to be an overweight adult, I get almost everything that Rabia Chaudry talks about in this book. No, my mother didn't bottle feed me with half and half nor give me frozen sticks of butter to teethe on, but I can understand Chaudry's associations of food with family and love. The descriptions of her childhood Pakistani food are mouth-watering, and even though she does tend to go on a bit, I also recognized her endless cycles of eating, dieting, weigh-ins, exercise, deprivation, and seesawing weight. I think when you are overweight, that often becomes one of the primary things you constantly associate with yourself, even though you may have lots of other accomplishments.
Plenty of other reviewers have accused the author of fat-shaming and being fat-phobic. I didn't see those things. I read a book written by someone who has always been concerned with her weight and all the things she had to try over many years to "fix" the situation. She says,
I loved the author's audiobook narration, along with the Pakistani recipes she included. "Because everyone has to eat, yes, even fat people...and so many of the best memories of my family revolve around food."
As a chubby kid who grew up to be an overweight adult, I get almost everything that Rabia Chaudry talks about in this book. No, my mother didn't bottle feed me with half and half nor give me frozen sticks of butter to teethe on, but I can understand Chaudry's associations of food with family and love. The descriptions of her childhood Pakistani food are mouth-watering, and even though she does tend to go on a bit, I also recognized her endless cycles of eating, dieting, weigh-ins, exercise, deprivation, and seesawing weight. I think when you are overweight, that often becomes one of the primary things you constantly associate with yourself, even though you may have lots of other accomplishments.
Plenty of other reviewers have accused the author of fat-shaming and being fat-phobic. I didn't see those things. I read a book written by someone who has always been concerned with her weight and all the things she had to try over many years to "fix" the situation. She says,
"I still don't love my body, I'm not happy with it, just as most people aren't perfectly happy with their bodies. So, yes, it's normal not to love your body."I feel pretty much the same way, but I don't care much whether this feeling is normal or not. I don't hate my body, I admire all it can do, but I can't say I love my body. Sometimes it's just uncomfortable to live in it, but that doesn't mean I've given up or am ready to stop trying to eat healthily and keep moving. The author concludes with:
“Don't make me feel terrible now, yet another failure, for not being able to feel great no matter what. Every person, I'd argue, has the right to pursue what feeling good means to them.”I heartily agree.
I loved the author's audiobook narration, along with the Pakistani recipes she included. "Because everyone has to eat, yes, even fat people...and so many of the best memories of my family revolve around food."
October 25, 2024
Previously known for her advocacy for Adnan Syed's case and appearance on the podcast Serial and HBO documentary on the case, Rabia Chaudry, here in her memoir Fatty Fatty, Boom Boom is talking about her life as a 2nd generation Pakistani American woman, her relationship with food especially her love for the Pakistani cuisine, her struggle with weight gain and fat shaming in the desi community and her stories about her family.
Fast paced, funny, and so so much relatable that it almost felt like I wasn't reading but sitting in drawing room listening to an auntie or khala recalling interesting tales about family around afternoon chai time Some of the descriptions and details are so real and relatable that I could see the same things happening in my own family. Rabia truly is a skilled writer, using humor and storytelling as a way of sharing her life long struggle with weight gain, her coke addiction in college and then weight loss by different methods from excercise and diet to eating and throwing up, and over salting her food to bariatric surgery and then plastic surgery.
P.S. While reading the book, I came across the knowledge that Rabia Chaudry has also been involved in an Anti BDS, Pro Israel, Muslim Leadership Initiative, or MLI, involved in faithwashing the Israeli occupation. The book doesn't really mention anything about it, but given the current climate, I felt like it was right to mention it in my review.
Fast paced, funny, and so so much relatable that it almost felt like I wasn't reading but sitting in drawing room listening to an auntie or khala recalling interesting tales about family around afternoon chai time Some of the descriptions and details are so real and relatable that I could see the same things happening in my own family. Rabia truly is a skilled writer, using humor and storytelling as a way of sharing her life long struggle with weight gain, her coke addiction in college and then weight loss by different methods from excercise and diet to eating and throwing up, and over salting her food to bariatric surgery and then plastic surgery.
P.S. While reading the book, I came across the knowledge that Rabia Chaudry has also been involved in an Anti BDS, Pro Israel, Muslim Leadership Initiative, or MLI, involved in faithwashing the Israeli occupation. The book doesn't really mention anything about it, but given the current climate, I felt like it was right to mention it in my review.
April 30, 2023
TW: fat phobia, fat shaming, disordered eating, abuse, etc
This was such a painful read. I want to respect the author’s positioning, while also believing that she still has some healing to do. There’s still a lot of self-hatred in these pages, despite what she claims about her therapy, healing journey, etc. I’m not entirely sure she should have published this just yet. But I guess I can honor where she is now.
This was such a painful read. I want to respect the author’s positioning, while also believing that she still has some healing to do. There’s still a lot of self-hatred in these pages, despite what she claims about her therapy, healing journey, etc. I’m not entirely sure she should have published this just yet. But I guess I can honor where she is now.
April 23, 2023
I thought this book was so well written and fascinating. The food descriptions were 👌 and I appreciated the love she had for her family and culture. However, I feel conflicted about her messages on weight loss, body image, and the verbal abuse she suffered because of her size. Not really sure how much I agreed or disagreed, just know that I felt conflicted. If you are struggling with an eating disorder, this would not be the book for you.
But because of how much I enjoyed this one and how often I know I'll think of it with fondness, I can't not give it 4 stars.
But because of how much I enjoyed this one and how often I know I'll think of it with fondness, I can't not give it 4 stars.
November 5, 2022
I fell in love with Rabia Chaudry's sensibilities and passions listening to her podcast, Undisclosed. When I saw that she was writing a book about her life, I was immediately on board. I enjoyed it as much as I hoped to. Rabia tells us about her young life in Pakistan and immigrating to America, what it's like to be a girl between two cultures and her love for them both. We learn all the cultural expectations of being both Urdu and Punjabi and how Rabia and her family were torn between tradition and immersion in American culture. She gives us her story through her love of food and how her parents best intentions for her as a baby set her up for a lifelong food addiction. She describes the trials and trevails of trying to get in shape, gastric surgery and how she came to love herself just as she is. The stories were told with humor and love and raw truth. She takes us right from childhood through her first marriage, divorce, her law career (including Adnan of course) and becoming a mother. I was both entertained and learned so much about the culture of the people of Pakistan, Muslim tradition and of course... the food. The last quarter of the book is recipes and commentary on them.
Thanks to Algonquin Books for the gifted copy. All opinions above are my own.
Thanks to Algonquin Books for the gifted copy. All opinions above are my own.
June 16, 2023
I liked so much about this book and also disliked so much. Easy 3 :)
November 28, 2022
This book hit everything for me; culture, history, family, life, and comedy. I was heavily enthralled with Rabia Chaudry’s story… like heavily. I stalked her Instagram page after I completed the first 1/2 of her book because I needed to know more about her, even while she was divulging it all to us in this book. For some reason, I just couldn’t get enough of Rabia’s life’s story, and I was thirsty for more. I have read other immigrant migration stories to the US before, and I keep feeling a sort of ‘shock and awe’ by their experiences here. For the rich life and success many people have in their home country, they continue to get shafted of the American Dream when they arrive here looking for bigger and better. I should know better than to think differently.
Rabia Chaudry bares a vulnerable part about herself in this book. This book centralizes over the area of body weight and her family, and her perception of how her upbringing and culture influenced her life. She also discusses in great detail how she as a child has struggled with weight her entire life, due to the food choices given to her at a young age.
The history she shared regarding her birth country and ancestral history was engaging and rich. I was surprised to learn about how Pakistan became a country, and how Muslims had to migrate to Pakistan because of religious reasons. Furthermore, learning about the culture in her country and how women are treated and expected to behave was eye opening. I also enjoyed the fact she included deep discussions of Pakistani food, and how it is prepared. I now want to sample and dabble in Pakistani food! I feel like it would be such an amazing experience on my palate. Chaudry delivered something so deeply layered and careful in our laps, that I just don’t want to destroy it with a paltry review.
Chaudry shares her shame, her vulnerability in the self-loathing she participated in while living a life at a weight her own family found as undesirable and detrimental to her being marriageable. Her tone in this book was so relatable and I could relate to her views about herself, as there were often times when I had similar feelings as an awkward and chunky adolescent. I moved into adulthood with a poor self-image, and for decades I constantly worried about my weight and appearance. Rabia told this story like we were friends/family. I really loved her voice here, she was like a big sister, friend, bestie who was sharing her life’s story and just being a beacon of wisdom as she shares the ups and down of just being alive.
I am so enthralled with Rabia, and I look forward to more works of hers in the future. Overall, I would rate this a 5.
Thank you to the publisher, Algonquin Books, and the author Rabia Chaudry (@rabiasquared2) for this book in exchange for a fair and honest opinion.
Rabia Chaudry bares a vulnerable part about herself in this book. This book centralizes over the area of body weight and her family, and her perception of how her upbringing and culture influenced her life. She also discusses in great detail how she as a child has struggled with weight her entire life, due to the food choices given to her at a young age.
The history she shared regarding her birth country and ancestral history was engaging and rich. I was surprised to learn about how Pakistan became a country, and how Muslims had to migrate to Pakistan because of religious reasons. Furthermore, learning about the culture in her country and how women are treated and expected to behave was eye opening. I also enjoyed the fact she included deep discussions of Pakistani food, and how it is prepared. I now want to sample and dabble in Pakistani food! I feel like it would be such an amazing experience on my palate. Chaudry delivered something so deeply layered and careful in our laps, that I just don’t want to destroy it with a paltry review.
Chaudry shares her shame, her vulnerability in the self-loathing she participated in while living a life at a weight her own family found as undesirable and detrimental to her being marriageable. Her tone in this book was so relatable and I could relate to her views about herself, as there were often times when I had similar feelings as an awkward and chunky adolescent. I moved into adulthood with a poor self-image, and for decades I constantly worried about my weight and appearance. Rabia told this story like we were friends/family. I really loved her voice here, she was like a big sister, friend, bestie who was sharing her life’s story and just being a beacon of wisdom as she shares the ups and down of just being alive.
I am so enthralled with Rabia, and I look forward to more works of hers in the future. Overall, I would rate this a 5.
Thank you to the publisher, Algonquin Books, and the author Rabia Chaudry (@rabiasquared2) for this book in exchange for a fair and honest opinion.
November 23, 2022
One of the first things my husband told me he didn’t quite understand about me was that I planned my day around food. When I met him, he was one of those people who ate for energy, not necessarily enjoyment, whereas I try to shape my food intake around what will bring me joy, sometimes resulting in success and sometimes regret. As we got to know each other better, he grew to love food for the sake of enjoyment, too, though he’s still baffled by the fact that I like to imagine what I am going to have for dinner when I wake up. I told him early on I believe it had something to do with the Italian side of my family and the trips to visit them in Italy when I was a child; food is serious business in Italy, and the whole family gets involved.
Turns out, food is serious business in Pakistan, and the whole family gets involved. In Fatty Fatty Boom Boom, Rabia Chaudry’s “Memoir of Food, Fat, & Family,” as stated on the book cover, she tells her story through the stories of the food she ate, the food she cooked, and the people who ate and cooked with her, whether homemade Pakistani food by family members, homemade Italian food from their neighbor, or fast food from American restaurants. And she does it brilliantly; she writes so well, which is not always the case with memoirs. Rabia’s stories delve into discussions of joy, regret, illness, guilt, determination, success, loss, love, closeness, and loneliness, all feelings brought about by family or by food; by life.
Rabia only briefly mentions the part of her life in which she worked to overturn the conviction of Adnan Sayed, work that turned her into a bit of a household name, and it’s in the background; in the foreground are her relationships with family and food. In this way we really feel as though we’re getting to know Rabia as a person. This memoir is personal, as good memoirs are, and in it she allows herself to be very vulnerable with the same courage and conviction that cause so many to keep coming back to see/read/hear her new work. I will fangirl over Rabia Chaudry whenever given the opportunity, but I would have given this book at least four stars even if I haven’t been familiar with the work of the person who wrote it. It’s an excellent memoir. And it comes with RECIPES.
Turns out, food is serious business in Pakistan, and the whole family gets involved. In Fatty Fatty Boom Boom, Rabia Chaudry’s “Memoir of Food, Fat, & Family,” as stated on the book cover, she tells her story through the stories of the food she ate, the food she cooked, and the people who ate and cooked with her, whether homemade Pakistani food by family members, homemade Italian food from their neighbor, or fast food from American restaurants. And she does it brilliantly; she writes so well, which is not always the case with memoirs. Rabia’s stories delve into discussions of joy, regret, illness, guilt, determination, success, loss, love, closeness, and loneliness, all feelings brought about by family or by food; by life.
Rabia only briefly mentions the part of her life in which she worked to overturn the conviction of Adnan Sayed, work that turned her into a bit of a household name, and it’s in the background; in the foreground are her relationships with family and food. In this way we really feel as though we’re getting to know Rabia as a person. This memoir is personal, as good memoirs are, and in it she allows herself to be very vulnerable with the same courage and conviction that cause so many to keep coming back to see/read/hear her new work. I will fangirl over Rabia Chaudry whenever given the opportunity, but I would have given this book at least four stars even if I haven’t been familiar with the work of the person who wrote it. It’s an excellent memoir. And it comes with RECIPES.
May 8, 2023
Obviously everyone has their own personal experience with weight, body image, and self-love. And there will probably be people who read what I'm about to say and think I'm being overly sensitive, or that I missed the point. But I can't help it - I found this book extremely triggering and finished it in tears.
I mean no disrespect to Rabia, who writes with great warmth and humor about her Pakistani family and life as an immigrant. And the recipes at the end, plus the advice on which brands to look for at Indian markets, were a real highlight.
But the "fat" part of the memoir really didn't work for me. Multiple times Rabia describes her body in terms of disgust and self-loathing. She talks about having multiple chins, being so big she doesn't recognize herself, wanting weight loss surgery to solve this insurmountable problem. Then a paragraph or two later she tells you how much she weighed - and the numbers were all so small I kept waiting for a punchline.
When she describes herself at her highest weight, and mentions the number, I just....I remembered the day I saw that number on the scale. I felt TINY. I was so close to my goal I could almost taste it. I was wearing a size 12 for the first time in my adult life. I was running 4-5 miles a day and felt SO GOOD.
And here's this woman describing that same weight as though she was too horrifically obese to be allowed. I started to feel like all that positive feeling about myself was just delusion.
I don't remember if Rabia ever mentioned her height, and obviously different weights on different bodies are not going to look the same. But I felt alienated and judged by this book, especially at the end when she sums it all up saying "I'm not *that* fat." So what are those of us who are or have been "that fat" supposed to take away from this? That if you had been "that fat" your self-loathing would have been justified?
I mean no disrespect to Rabia, who writes with great warmth and humor about her Pakistani family and life as an immigrant. And the recipes at the end, plus the advice on which brands to look for at Indian markets, were a real highlight.
But the "fat" part of the memoir really didn't work for me. Multiple times Rabia describes her body in terms of disgust and self-loathing. She talks about having multiple chins, being so big she doesn't recognize herself, wanting weight loss surgery to solve this insurmountable problem. Then a paragraph or two later she tells you how much she weighed - and the numbers were all so small I kept waiting for a punchline.
When she describes herself at her highest weight, and mentions the number, I just....I remembered the day I saw that number on the scale. I felt TINY. I was so close to my goal I could almost taste it. I was wearing a size 12 for the first time in my adult life. I was running 4-5 miles a day and felt SO GOOD.
And here's this woman describing that same weight as though she was too horrifically obese to be allowed. I started to feel like all that positive feeling about myself was just delusion.
I don't remember if Rabia ever mentioned her height, and obviously different weights on different bodies are not going to look the same. But I felt alienated and judged by this book, especially at the end when she sums it all up saying "I'm not *that* fat." So what are those of us who are or have been "that fat" supposed to take away from this? That if you had been "that fat" your self-loathing would have been justified?
June 14, 2023
3.5. I enjoyed this book because it gave me a look at a culture I wouldn't consider myself familiar with. I enjoyed hearing about her family the delicious foods that surrounded Rabia's upbringing in Pakistan, and found my heart breaking for her because much like many other cultures, she was faced with constant criticism for not only her weight, but her skin color. Many people do not realize that colorism isn't something that minorities face only from whites. It's something that's deeply embedded within and perpetuated by minority groups and cultures. Despite struggles with her own identity, an abusive husband, and a culture that didn't accept her, Rabia was able to really make a way for herself in this world.
I had to knock down a bit of my rating solely because of the way the story was framed. It was sold as a story not only about food, but ultimate self acceptance. Don't get me wrong, Rabia's journey and struggle with her body is extremely relatable. I too find myself looking for what I would consider my "goal" body, believing it'll fix all of my problems. Throughout the story, Rabia outlines countless methods she tried to lose weight, with very little success. My gripe is that this story wasn't truly about self acceptance. Even at the very end, when it sounds like she's finally at a healthy place with respecting and loving her body, it's still tinged with the feeling that her current weight is still not ideal. If that's how she truly feels, then I completely understand. I just wouldn't categorize that self acceptance.
I had to knock down a bit of my rating solely because of the way the story was framed. It was sold as a story not only about food, but ultimate self acceptance. Don't get me wrong, Rabia's journey and struggle with her body is extremely relatable. I too find myself looking for what I would consider my "goal" body, believing it'll fix all of my problems. Throughout the story, Rabia outlines countless methods she tried to lose weight, with very little success. My gripe is that this story wasn't truly about self acceptance. Even at the very end, when it sounds like she's finally at a healthy place with respecting and loving her body, it's still tinged with the feeling that her current weight is still not ideal. If that's how she truly feels, then I completely understand. I just wouldn't categorize that self acceptance.
May 2, 2023
Oh this book is challenging to rate. 3.5??? I loved Rabia, and I loved her stories. I especially loved the beautiful descriptions of food and the cultural ties within relationships to food and our bodies. I think most people who grow up a fat kid can relate to many of the things Rabia shares about her earlier experiences navigating fatphobia and messaging towards her body. I know it was my own stuff and my own journey towards fat liberation coming up, but I struggled with the ending. I wanted Rabia to come to accept her body and recognize the harmful messages she had received and that just wasn’t the ending we got. As a person who is bigger than how she described herself in most of this book, it felt hard to read in certain parts. But also it was honest and fit her experience and I don’t want to discredit that either.
December 2, 2024
I read this for my "Body Liberation" square of Book Bingo this summer. I should've liberated my eyeballs from continuing to read this book. This is a book recounting Chaudry's eating disorder(s) in stunning detail all for it to get resolved by multiple weight loss surgeries and strict meal plans. I hope Chaudry has a healthy relationship with food one day, but I did not finish reading that book feeling like she did, and I would actively discourage anyone that works on their relationship with food to avoid this one.
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