In this disarming and candid memoir, cultural critic Clarkisha Kent unpacks the kind of compounded problems you face when you’re a fat, Black, queer woman in a society obsessed with heteronormativity.
There was no easy way for Kent to navigate personal discovery and self-love. As a dark-skinned, first-generation American facing a myriad of mental health issues and intergenerational trauma, at times Kent’s body felt like a cosmic punishment. In the face of body dysmorphia, homophobia, anti-Blackness, and respectability politics, the pursuit of “high self-esteem” seemed oxymoronic.
Fat Off, Fat A Big Bitch Manifesto is a humorous, at times tragic, memoir that follows Kent on her journey to realizing that her body is a gift to be grown into, that sometimes family doesn’t always mean home, and how even ill-fated bisexual romances could free her from gender essentialism. Perfect for readers of Keah Brown’s The Pretty One, Alida Nugent’s You Don’t Have to Like Me, and Stephanie Yeboah’s Fattily Ever After, Kent’s debut explores her own lived experiences to illuminate how fatphobia intertwines with other oppressions. It stresses the importance of addressing the violence scored upon our minds and our bodies, and how we might begin the difficult—but joyful—work of setting ourselves free.
I’ve been following Clarkisha online for a while, so I was beyond excited when I found out she was releasing a book. And just like her online presence, I found her authorial voice equally biting and funny and insightful. A lot of this book hit close to home, specifically everything surrounding having West African parents, growing up in a religious family, and growing up as a dark skin girl. Overall, there was some pretty heavy shit in here, but it was approached with a really defiant yet nuanced stance, which I appreciated. She was aware of all the sociopolitical/cultural components that could've influenced certain aspects of her upbringing/life but did not make excuses for the ways she was harmed. Also, similarly to something like Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome, Clarkisha didn't shy away from more critical self-reflection moments and was pretty open, for example, about how her religious upbringing affected her views about queerness. Overall, the most impactful part about this was the "work-in-progress" nature to it. It didn't feel like Clarkisha has arrived at self-acceptance. Rather it felt like she's still on her journey and is inviting readers to join her, which made the overall reading experience that much more refreshing.
I've read some of Kent's work around the internet, so was definitely interested in her upcoming memoir/essays. It's a great collection of essays where she unpacks everything that happened to her growing up as a first-generation American in an immigrant household with abusive parents, a religious environment that contributed to her desire to get the hell out of dodge ASAP, and coming into her own in college/post-grad. The book does feel like it sort of ends right as Kent gets going, but she is still a young woman so I look forward to see what she does from here.
All the CW for abuse, fatphobia, racism, colorism, sexism, misogyny, queerphobia.
But also, she's wickedly funny. If you like Samantha Irby's style, you'll like Kent's (although there are less poop episodes, iykyk).
Reading memoirs by people in their twenties makes me feel old (and I am only thirty-three!). Fortunately, Clarkisha Kent makes up for that because her writing is intense, rich, and thoughtful. Fat Off, Fat On: A Big Bitch Manifesto is a memoir, yes, but I also love that framing of manifesto as well: Kent is bringing forth a type of energy that she wants to see in this world. I received a review copy from the Feminist Press.
From the beginning, Kent does not hold back. She gets into some heavy topics here—just a big content warning for mentions of child molestation and abuse, suicide attempts, mental illness, etc. Kent shares her trauma and talks about how it has shaped her. She is also quite critical of herself. At one point, as she is discussing how her religious upbringing influenced her ideas on sexuality, she describes how fervently she attempted to dissuade her peers from same-sex attraction. Kent, who would eventually realize she is bi, did not have the language as a teenager to properly analyze her experience. This resonated with me as a queer woman, and it also made me think, as a teacher, about why it’s so important to have labels and terms for things. If anyone needs convincing that banning books with queer or Black representation in them is a bad idea, reading about Kent’s experience growing up in a conservative southern state is a good place to start.
Fat Off, Fat On reminds me in some ways of
Sometimes I Trip On How Happy We Could Be
. Perkins and Kent have much in common at least superficially, from their origins in Tennessee to writing on pop culture and, of course, the experience of growing up as Black women in America. If you like one of these books, you will probably like other. That being said, I don’t want to give the impression that they are extremely similar in content. Each has her own unique story, with a distinct voice.
Kent’s memoir exists at the intersections of fatphobia, biphobia, and misogynoir. In particular, she returns time and again to the theme of how being fat in a society that mandates thinness for women and dark-skinned in a society that privileges lighter skin, especially among Black women, fucked up her relationship to her own body and to others. Kent makes the point that it is impossible to analyze any one of these traits by themselves—they are all connected, all a part of her. Add in poverty and mental and physical disability and—well, that’s a lot to contend with.
Yet never does it feel like Kent falls into the trap of performing her trauma for our entertainment as is so common within memoirs, especially the memoirs of marginalized people. A lot of white women will read memoirs from Black or Indigenous women as a kind of tourism, and then we love to talk about how much we learned, how grateful we are that this person shared their story of oppression with us. Fat Off, Fat On doesn’t let you do that. This is not the plucky story of someone rising above the obstacles in front of them.
That being said, did I learn? Of course I did. Kent’s experiences, her identity, her life are all very different from mine. Was I entertained? Um, hell yes. Kent is hilarious. Her writing style is not just present tense but intensely present on the page, with numerous allusions. There’s a whole chapter where she makes connections to Janelle Monáe and Dirty Computer, and had I not already been sitting, I would have needed to sit myself down and taken a moment just to recover. Like, this is the skill of Kent as a storyteller.
But I suspect and hope that the people who get the most out of this book are not thin white women like me. I hope this book reaches young Black women, fat women, baby queers stuck in southern states who need some reassurance that yes, you too can escape—even if it won’t be easy, and even if it might never truly be “over.” Kent’s too honest to make empty promises. As the final chapters attest, Kent is nowhere near done, nowhere near arrived; she has barely got started here. The hardship she has faced from multiple intersecting axes of oppression has neither evaporated nor, in many ways, has it ever let up. We need more memoirs like this, especially from Black women—not as educational aids for white women, mind you, but as the antithesis to that. This is a book designed to be seen and in turn make others feel seen. I really hope it can accomplish that.
Originally posted on Kara.Reviews, where you can easily browse all my reviews and subscribe to my newsletter.
CW: Child Abuse, Sexual Assault, Fatphobia, Suicidal Ideation
There are several memoirs that I have anticipated like this, and even a few that reach the level of this one, but I can't think of one that completely captures so many aspects of my own existence. Not to knock any other memoirs, I am a known enjoyer of them, but Clarkisha has a true way of writing, and storytelling that is purely relatable. There are many things here that I have never and will never experience here but Clarkisha's writing bring you right into her shoes, and I think the book is meant to give a very rare voice. I know Clarkisha, but I wasn't very familiar with her backstory. Maybe know is a stretch. We're mutuals on twitter, and have interacted through multiple spaces, servers, and such online. Colloquially she's OOMF, a Moot, a SISTA, dare I say Friend?! This really brought me in, I was invested from the jump, and I had to take breaks and breathe. Clarkisha has really been through a lot, and through her work you will be reminded of your own experience. Her writing has a way to make you contemplate your own story, and compare and contrast. This should be the memoir of the year! I know it probably will be impossible to top for me personally.
Based on what I've already said, you probably can't imagine I wouldn't give this 5 stars, and YOU'D BE RIGHT! This was a 5 with room. The writing was bombastic, the structure was digestible, the scope was perfect. You move through Clarkisha's most formidable years, and go along with her on a physical, political, and psychological journey to who she is today. She let's you into her most vulnerable moments, and you may come out of it with a new understanding of what you've been though. I know I did for sure!
I would recommend this to anyone who I think could relate to the material and anyone who wants to understand people better. This material could be slightly triggering depending on how prone to triggering you are. I think Clarkisha does a great job of handling the topics but some of it could come off a little raw.
I’ve been obsessed with Clarkisha’s writing since twitter. There were many times I had to put the book down because I have never wanted to fight a family as much as I did reading about everything they put her through. Girl has loved a liiiiiife and I hope she knows how worthy and dope and talented she is and how grateful we are for her words in this world.
I haven't ever been particularly drawn to memoirs in the past but the title drew me in because "a big bitch manifesto" is just something I need to hear more about. It was a really good read. The author spoke truthfully about her familial trauma and all of the isms and schisms she has experienced just by being who she is and navigating the world in the body that she has, while also incorporating humor, romance, and the full spectrum of emotions. I was drawn in by the stories she shared and both challenged and encouraged by some of the hard truths included. It was also like reading a smut novel at times , which was icing on the cake. I'm happy that this is my introduction to memoirs!
Whew. What a fucking book. Surprisingly I did not cry. But I did have to step away multiple times because my body felt this physical swelling of emotions. I laughed, squealed, screamed, mmm’d so many goddamn times, and at the end, all I feel is stunned and wowed. I needed this so bad and I am thankful for and awed by Clarkisha Kent and her work. God, I might actually start crying ew.
But anyways, let me end this review by leaving a minor aside: Kent, I need more. And to be specific, I want a romance and rom com novel because whew (in the fans self way), you’ve got exactly what the genre needs.
Thank you, Coriolis Co. and Feminist Press for this gifted ARC by which chronicles Clarkisha Kent's journey toward self-love.
Clarkisha Kent shares her traumatic story of living through the abuses (sexual, physical and verbal) from her family from an early age, and how she came to remove them and their shitty ways from her life. As someone who has been fat-shamed, name-called and targeted her entire life, Kent struggled with suicidal tendencies and learning how to respect and love her body.
I wish I could quote the entire last chapter of this book, as Kent so eloquently shares how she came to respect her body as having stayed with her and helped her work through her life of trauma. She quotes bell hooks (RIP) throughout and how her words on feminism and Blackness align so closely with Kent's journey. "Love cannot be fostered in a body that is hated by the woman who occupies it," Kent states. I love that message so much.
Thank you @clarkishakent for sharing your story and for your advocacy, educating the world on a perspective that challenges heteronormativity.
Disclaimer: I’m as white as they come, so I can’t really say anything about the racism and colorism Clarkisha went through without fucking it up somehow. .
Having said that, this book has struck me in more places than I could have anticipated.
From the injuries and physical disabilities to the fatphobia that has been following me throughout the years, from the loneliness to the teenage years I didn’t really experience albeit for different reasons…
That’s even without mentioning the way this fat b*tch writes, for fucks sakes. This book hooked me up from page one, something that didn’t seem to be happening anymore.
This was a really engaging read. Kent is the daughter of immigrants who faces colorism and fatphobia from within her own family as well as the external world in which she lived. The surround sound story of her journey with her body (size, color), her poverty and facing the world as a physically and mentally disabled Queer person is a powerful and poignant read. While the issues she faced are heartbreaking, Kent is a fun narrator and you feel like you're listening to a friend share their stories.
An excellent read. A great balance of serious topics & still fun because they’re unpacked with the tone of a friend telling you a juicy story. Anyone who is or knows a dark skinned black woman should read this, it is a great insight into internal battles we deal with and how they may affect our daily lives and thought process.
Fat Off, Fat On: A Big Bitch Manifesto is a sarcastic, entertaining memoir about how Alex (codename Clarkisha Kent) found her way back to her own body after a lifetime of indoctrination about why she should be ashamed of it. From her messed-up family and their emotional and physical abuse to the way tearing her ACL in college threw her back into her trauma, Kent unpacks her slow quest to accept her body as something desirable.
Kent discovers her bisexuality and demisexuality, struggles with suicidal ideation and undiagnosed mental illness, and slowly untangles her psyche from the web of purity culture, emotional abuse, and worthlessness that other people tried to tie her up in. It's a powerful story of bravery and persistence, not to mention intersectionality, and one that encourages us to pick through the things we've been told about our own bodies, and learn to appreciate our bodies for what they are.
I loved to see the demisexual representation, which is all too rare. The discussions of fatness and fatphobia were deeply relatable, as was attention to how disability and injury can be particularly bad with the weight of fatphobia accompanying it. Kent cut straight to the brutal center of her story with clear, brutal honesty and openness. Definitely a new memoir to check out, particularly if (like me), you like reads that dig into fatphobia and issues of intersectionality.
Content warnings for fatphobia, colorism, racism, ableism, domestic/emotional abuse, sexual assault, disordered eating.
I cannot know what it’s like to be a woman of color, but I have been a fat woman all my life, and in Fat Off, Fat On Clarkisha Kent nailed so many things that society has shoved down my throat about my self-worth, desirability as a friend or romantic partner, and just about everything else. “Dating sob stories aside, fatphobia in this context meant I should be grateful for crumbs and absolutely ecstatic if someone expressed even a sliver of desire for me. I should be overcome with feelings of joy for someone being brave enough to touch me!” she goes on to say, “after all, the summation of all this existed to teach me that I wasn’t worth a damn. Wasn’t worth “love”. and definitely wasn’t worth “laying with”. Whew. Yeah I need to sit down because this is everything society has always told me about myself and why at the age of 45 I still hate everything about my body that isn’t my tattoos. If you’re Black, or fat, or a woman, or had ridiculous evangelical bullshit shoved down your throat you should definitely read this book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Note: I received an ARC of this from Feminist Press in exchange for an honest, unpaid review. Thank you to Feminist Press for granting me this copy, it was a pleasure to read <3
At first, I was a bit apprehensive when Kent described her viewpoint as pessimistic at the beginning of the novel. I wasn't ready for a pessimistic read on life when I myself am a rather pessimistic person, to begin with. However, Kent's book was everything but pessimistic. It was real, emotional, and deep, and didn't shy away from addressing how worldviews have affected Kent's life. I felt connected to Kent in her book and much of her story resonated with me despite us not having a ton in common. This is a solid memoir that left me feeling something profound at the end. Kent is, at the end of the day, a great writer. I hope she comes out with more long-form works such as this one.
What I Enjoyed 1. Kent's voice is possibly one of my favorite things about this book.
I felt like Kent and I were sitting down at a brunch or dinner and she was recounting her life experience. I can't say that for a lot of books, I feel. A lot have this great "writer voice" where the writer steps outside of themselves a little bit to write some great prose. But Kent stayed true to herself and I feel her voice reflects that. She owned that this is HER experience and SHE is telling the story and her voice is one of the many ways she reminds us that this is her story to tell. Yet at no point did it get too sentimental where I felt I was spying on her life; her voice invites the reader into the story.
I'm also usually not a fan of when authors interact with their readers, but Kent does this in such a smooth way that not only did I not mind it but I actually enjoyed it. The voice she uses in this book is one in which it makes sense to talk to the reader every once and a while.
2. Kent offers a great perspective. Not only through her own experiences but through her interactions with friends and family as well. We get to see how Kent's experiences have shaped her life and how she has worked through these experiences to become an ever-changing individual. Kent does not paint herself in a perfect light, she recognizes her own flaws, and she recognizes how society has shaped how she views herself.
I like how Kent does not sum up her experience to be completely unique and personal; she recognizes her position as a fat, black, bisexual woman in this world. This makes Kent's book more universal while still maintaining this as her experience. And through her interaction with friends and family, we get a glimpse of others' perspectives as well in this way.
While I'm pointing out all of this, at the end of the day Kent's book is just real. She opens us up to her life. Her writing is just beautiful.
3. A satisfying ending. I felt Kent's journey was complete, she showed us her life in a raw and real way and came out learning to love and embrace herself more while still recognizing that loving yourself is an ongoing process that is not linear. I wish that for everyone as they hit thirty, because while we can't solve everything we can always grow and learn to better love ourselves. I'm especially hoping for that for myself as I inch closer and closer to my thirties, and Kent gave me hope that this is achievable.
How It Could Be Improved 1. It almost felt too short to me. I think I wanted this to be even longer. I wish certain moments were drawn out more and we got more of Kent's feelings and reflections. But perhaps what is not discussed in this book could be made into a second book. While this is a criticism, it's more of a compliment than anything else - I want more long-form Kent pieces!
I really tried to come up with another criticism but couldn't! I mean, I did give this book 5 stars for a reason.
I don't always find the same things funny as Kent does, and I personally felt a bit uncomfortable with how she wrote about an ex's bisexuality, particularly re: him being closeted. But overall this is a valuable perspective on a lot of intersecting marginalized identities. Being queer, fat, and neurodivergent means a lot of Kent's pain resonated with me. Gosh, the parts talking about trying to do dating apps while bi/fat? Felt. Hard.
At the same time, it was eye-opening hearing about some of the experiences I can't personally relate to, and I appreciated hearing about them in such an unfiltered way. Kent does not hold back in her cutting wit, her frustration, or even in her relaying of pain and sadness. We're left with a memoir that takes jabs at systemic racism, the healthcare system, ableism, fatphobia, homophobia and biphobia, and all the ways these things intertwine. All of this somehow with a dash of personal gossip column.
What you're left with is something very personal and very real that I think Kent shows an immense amount of bravery in writing and sharing with the world.
A lot of people might find this hard to get through for a lot of reasons, but I think it is worth getting through.
I also love Scrubs more than I love air, so what a perfect book for me.
The italics were more a hindrance than a help. Her voice is so clear the italics aren’t necessary and instead made me puzzle over sentences to make sure I’d read them with the right inflection. And the writing is incredibly casual -not a fault, maybe even a positive.
I did think the earlier chapters were stronger than the back half. For example: “I had always wanted better for him. The best even. And that was something he had not wanted for himself” (153). I don’t think we’re given enough evidence that this is true? At all? Maybe she has her own private reasons to believe this, or maybe it’s the thoughts of someone who hasn’t fully unpacked a deeply hurtful experience. The early chapters had the benefit of time and development and added maturity that I would loved in the later ones. As it stands, I felt a similar way about this book as I did I’m Glad My Mom Died, but with far more humor and dating antics.
Note: I received an ARC of this from Feminist Press in exchange for an honest, unpaid review. Thank you to Feminist Press for granting me this copy.
Self-liberation is at the heart of Clarkisha Kent's Fat Off, Fat On. Kent invites readers in with wit and humor and raw vulnerability. She details her life experiences as a fat, Black, bisexual woman with stark clarity that gives shame no space to take root. Her debut memoir is an important addition to the conversations we need to be having about the harm oppressive systems and cultures and intergenerational trauma exerts on people's minds and bodies. Despite the many hardships Kent has faced, she is relentlessly hopeful in her pursuit of getting free. She is a leader to learn from, and her writing will be a beacon lighting the path to freedom for many others.
I appreciated Kent’s and candor in this memoir. She tackles tough topics, including familial abuse, internalized fatphobia, her experiences as a bisexual and Black woman, unapologetically, but also with wit and humor to keep the text engaging. For me, the chapters on Bruce, which explore biphobia and how it presents differently between men and women, and Kent’s struggles with her ACL injury and with suicide stand out to me the most. Both provided insights that left me thinking about not only of the author’s own experiences, but also the larger contexts that led to those situations. I also found her discussions of how her bisexuality and demisexuality interesting. Kent discusses early in her book how important representation is, and I think that some readers will find in this memoir representation they may need.
Note: I received an ARC of this from Feminist Press in exchange for an honest, unpaid review. Thank you to Feminist Press for granting me this copy.
This book was WONDERFUL, HYSTERICAL & HEART WRENCHING. Clarkisha has an engaging way of showcasing her personality through her writing.
I was hooked a few pages in when fatphobia was brought into play and how that impacted her experiences. I felt like I was reading something, I growing up as a fat child had experienced.
Her writing transported me into her life and through her trauma. This was a heartbreaking and funny ride.
It’s very hard to rate memoirs! It’s a real person’s life, after all.
I would have loved to give this a 5 but I thought the last half of the book focused too much on the author’s romances, which weren’t interesting to me.
However the first half of the book was riveting, albeit horrifying to read. What a horrid situation to have come from. I’m glad Kent has managed to escape and make a life for herself.
Kent’s writing style is fluid and conversational yet very clearly elevated, as she’s been a writer for so long. She effortlessly includes words and references that belie her vast knowledge.
I’m glad I read this book and wish Kent the best in her future.
Clarkisha Kent is a lot of things: bi, Black, fat, female, disabled. But there’s one thing she’s definitely not: quiet about the ways society pushes people like her to the margins.
Kent’s memoir is conversational, snarky, sarcastic, casual, funny, and raw—like an extended coffee date with a life-long friend who invites you to take a comfy seat and dish about life. (Read the rest of my review at Hippocampus Magazine: https://hippocampusmagazine.com/2023/...)
I've followed Clarkisha on social media for awhile now so being able to read her life story and voice in all its humor, bluntness, as well as times of despair, was such an insightful read.
Reading her journey to self love despute all the oppressive systems at play in this hellscape was at times heart wrenching but also inspiring. It's the perfect way to close out 2023 and start 2024.
My goodness, I love this book. Kent seamlessly blends humor, vulnerability, and theory. Some of the passages would pack such an emotional gut punch that tears would instantly spring to my eyes. And then other passages would describe romance and sex so beautifully that I would be giggling and kicking my feet. Can't recommend enough!
As someone who has been following Kent on Twitter for a while now, I am so proud of what she has accomplished with this heart-wrenching, funny, and honest memoir. Her story is her own and yet one I'm sure many can relate to. Cannot wait to see what the future holds for her...hopefully a rom-com because those chapters about her love life? Baby I was falling in love right along with her.
if i were a cornball id say this was a revelation. since im not im going to say this book made me feel seen (another corny thing to say). at times i wished this was a graphic novel on account of the universally humorous tone but note that i listened to this and didn't read it. anyways i recommend it
This book is a powerful exploration of what it's like to be fat, Black, darker-skinned, and queer in a society that hates all of those identities, and how Clarkisha Kent escaped her abusive family and found her own way.
I really liked it, and I only wish she had written a bit more about how she got to her current place in life after leaving a bad situation, both economically and culturally, in California. But I understand that this was only a few years ago, and maybe she hasn't processed it all yet and will write more in the future!
Who cares, over sensitive whiny babies this whole generation spoiler alert: NOBODY CARES WHO YOU SCREW, or what genitalia you THINK you have and you are black so just be that anti blackness?? what in the absolute shit is this ….over sensitive bullshit
3.5 if I could. A very honest and engaging memoir. The informal style of the writing sometimes threw me off, but overall a good read and compelling journey through racism, colorism, homophobia, ableism, and fatphobia.