Hunger

The medical industry and its professionals often fail people of size. Doctors focus on weight before addressing other medical concerns, even if weight has nothing to do with why a patient has sought care. Medical facilities are not always made to accommodate fat bodies, with Gay’s nurses exacerbating the problem by displaying disapproval or pity whenever she is weighed. She avoids seeing medical practitioners as much as possible for this very reason.

In October 2014, Gay experienced a medical crisis when she fainted in her apartment and awoke to a broken ankle. She was forced to call emergency services and was hospitalized due to needing surgery. Lack of communication (and the situation itself being out of Gay’s control) left her feeling frightened and alone. Yet, this experience was also a turning point for her. Gay’s family descended upon the hospital to see her when they could, and she was reminded of how much they care about her: “When I broke my ankle, love was no longer an abstraction” (283). She has since come to terms with being vulnerable and openly expressing vulnerability—as this is but one step toward healing. Though Gay continues to deal with the everyday effects of trauma, she now understands that “gentleness” is not always “the calm before the storm” (283). Sometimes, kindness can exist on its own terms.

Gay’s family found out about her rape once her writing gained national recognition—with Gay’s mother reading a review of her work in Time magazine and mentioning it in passing. Gay expresses gratitude for her mother’s willingness to face and respect the truth, no matter how painful; the family as a whole better understands this truth now and knows to extend more compassion. Years after the assault, Gay turned to the Internet to find the primary perpetrator, “Christopher,” and learned that he is a successful executive. She gave him a call and considered meeting him in person in her transformed body, as “He wouldn’t recognize me […] I could find him and hide in plain sight. I saw to that” (289).

Gay then muses on the experience of being Black in America. Living in the rural Midwest as a graduate student and university professor has been difficult for her, yet she is “afraid to live in a city where, at least in my mind, everyone is thin, athletic, beautiful, and I am an abominable woman” (293). When she lived in upper Michigan, her race made her a “curiosity;” in Illinois, it was “more of a threat” (295). Locals authored furious letters about crime in town, referencing Black students. Acquaintances dismissed Gay’s discomfort by asserting that not everyone is racist, a response designed to avoid accountability and shut down any real discussion of the problem. Such attitudes only increased her loneliness.

Gay’s body has “informed [her] feminism in unexpected ways” (297). It has made her a more empathic person whose own physical limitations prompt critical thinking about the experiences of people with disabilities. Overall, she argues for acceptance rather that baseline tolerance. Being a woman of size, Gay often thinks about accessibility. For example, during public events, she always has to consider whether a handrail will be available or if she will have to climb stairs to get on stage. Gay acknowledges that this line of questioning “shows me a fraction of the questions people with disabilities must ask to be out in the world” (298). She encourages her audience to think about “the realities of the bodies of others” (299), rather than give in to ignorance or indifference.

Gay ponders what her life would be like had she never been assaulted. She knows that being thin does not equate to being happy—yet imagines herself as a thinner and happier person who is well-liked, married, and “at peace” (300). However, she acknowledges that everyone has their own demons, their own level of comfort (or there lack of) with their bodies.

Gay continues to work on detangling her happiness from weight loss. She tries to find comfort in her current form, as she no longer needs the large body her younger self once constructed as self-protection. Instead, she must “undestroy” herself—the healing, the peace, she longs for being well within reach.