melanie_page's reviews
1469 reviews

It’s Always Been Ours: Rewriting the Story of Black Women’s Bodies by Jessica Wilson, MS, RD, was published February 7th, 2023. I was sent an ARC as a result of my insistence on reading books about fat activism. I informed the publicist that I am a white, mostly able-bodied, straight woman and that regretfully, at this time, I don’t know any Black women actively reviewing books. My school schedule prevents me from seeking out more bloggers to develop relationships with. Nonetheless, the publicist sent an ARC knowing my schema is different from the author’s. I say all that to quote Wilson: “This book is specifically for Black women.” My hope is to boost Wilson’s work and get it into the hands of her intended readers.

Wilson, who reminds readers that a nutritionist can be anyone who wants to all themselves one, is a dietitian, who must be trained and licensed. She examines the information Black women are getting about bodies and food. While Health at Every Size and Eating Intuitively seem more “natural,” Wilson argues the information isn’t straightforward, nor is it anti-diet. Furthermore, food advice applies to a narrow category of people, namely white women. Food associated with non-white cultures are demonized: the east Asian staple rice, everything Mexican, everything associated with Black culture, etc. It’s Always Been Ours is different than what I expected because it responds to current works about food and bodies rather than lecturing with statistics, and it’s also deeply personal.

Wilson begins with her own clients and notices a pattern of problems not addressed in the larger professional field. When she worked in eating disorders as a dietitian, she encountered two Queer women, one Mexican and one Indigenous, neither of whom were “underweight,” though both restricted their eating and had all the physiological evidence of the effects of starvation. However, when Wilson and her coworker attended a conference about eating disorders and asked about clients who are both starving and “normal” or “overweight,” they were dismissed. The speaker said, “I don’t know what is happening with your patients, but I am talking about girls who are actually sick” — meaning white women who “looked like” they were starving. From my own reading, I know it is not uncommon for fat women to pretend they’ve eaten more food than is true to hide eating disorders.

And yet Wilson isn’t talking about eating disorders. She’s looking at a history and system that leads Black women into her office asking for nutrition advice on how to be smaller so they are respected by their white colleagues (and one woman noticed she felt better when white men acknowledged her when she lost all curves through food restriction). Typically, Wilson’s advice is to eat more food and acknowledge the survival skills Black women develop when it comes to eating. Surprisingly, it was at Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop conference, a three-day celebration of the guru’s woo-woo care that felt less oppressed than a health expo at which people working in the field of nutrition gave advice on losing weight to avoid future illness without exploring cultural and systemic reasons why bodies don’t behave the same way across the board. The experiences extend across a couple of chapters. The personal examples stand out because they are unique anecdotes.

The other surprise for me is Wilson having a dialogue with other, readily-available books about diet and culture. Christy Harrison is a white woman people finally listened to, despite Black dietitians noting the problems Harrison is now famous for spotlighting. Another popular author is Body Positive Jes Baker, a young white woman claiming you can just decide to not care about how people perceive you in what comes off as a “Live! Laugh! Love!” moment, ignoring the survival component of Black women’s attempts to lose weight. I’ve tried Baker’s books and can’t stand the “just use your middle finger and dismantle the patriarchy!” nonsense. Her attitude reminds me of my students who used to write “should” essays: “women should be paid the same as men,” “racism should be over,” “anyone 18+ should be allowed alcohol.” You can say “should” all you want, but obviously the reality is different. As Wilson responds to contemporary books about food/diet, she educates readers on where Black women are let down and left out because the conversation is so narrow.

Wilson’s thoughts on Intuitive Eating, which sounds like a no-brainer food attitude, gave me a new perspective from people of socioeconomic status. If food is only available at certain times, such as the free public school lunch or for fifteen minutes between part-time jobs that don’t offer a lunch break, then people have to eat during those critical times, whether hungry or not. They may eat a lot to make up for hours of hunger. Or, she notes, many students do not accept free lunches from school to avoid the shame of other students knowing.

Jessica Wilson’s book is one to read now. Not only does it reframe the reader’s experiences with food and bodies, but she explores popular figures like Nicole Byer and Lizzo while cross-examining the narrow place where white women may find joy with their bodies through HAES and Intuitive Eating, or sympathy when they restrict their eating into starvation, but Black women and women of color are excluded.

DISCLAIMER
Thanks to publicist Nanda Dyssou for sending me an ARC from Hachette Go for review. This has not affected my opinions. You can order a hardcover copy, e-book, or unabridged audiobook.

The subtitle of this book could be "a story of white privilege."

I'm just not connecting with the characters, nor do I care about the many plot points.