This is a memoir about Roxane Gay’s body, but it is also a memoir about all women’s bodies. It is extremely relatable, in such a way that I would be surprised if a woman didn’t find something of her own experience in its pages. It’s not an easy or uplifting read, nor is it meant to be, but I did find a strange kind of comfort in it, in being reminded of how as women we’re all connected in some small way by this experience of just trying to exist in our bodies, and having them treated as a liability.