My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I finished this book a week ago. I finished it in two days.
I haven't connected with a book this emotionally since Going Bovine by Libba Bray.
This was different of course, being non-fiction. A book about Portia de Rossi's struggle with Anorexia Nervosa and coming out.
I'm not anorexic, nor am I gay. But the way de Rossi wrote about her compulsivity with food and the fear of losing control which then leads to a loss of control in a hellish loop, touched on some deep issues for me.
I couldn't break away from the beautiful, honest prose. I cried when my Mum and sister came over and I had to stop reading. Not because I had to stop reading. Because I was dealing with my own anxiety issues through de Rossi's journey.
The whole last chapter I cried for her and myself.
Then the epilogue. It brought hope, and I felt relief. If she can come back from that obsession, I can certainly deal with my own problems. There is brightness in the future.
Now, one thing I asked myself before reading was: Can this celebrity write? Was there a ghostwriter?
Yes and no, respectively. There were passages where de Rossi's love of words was clear: in high school, she loved reading out Shakespeare and Poetry and giving emotion to the words.
And no one else was mentioned in the fine print. De Rossi is amazing and I hope she writes more.
Lastly, I loved the sense of Australianness I felt throughout the book. De Rossi hasn't lost her roots.
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