In my teens and early twenties, I often went clothes shopping with my mother and I could always see her dismay at where I am forced to shop. I could see that she wished her daughter had a different body. I could see her humiliation and frustration. ... I harbored no small amount of frustration, or anger, for her words, for her disappointment in me, for my inability to be a good daughter, for one more thing I couldn't have – the simple pleasure of having fun while shopping with my mother.
( Roxane Gay )
[ Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body ]
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