yup, it's what it sounds like

I think it might be impossible to not give this book's title a second glance. It really is eye-catching, and it certainly caught mine. I listened to the audiobook version, which I highly recommend, considering it's read by the author herself, Jennette McCurdy. There are plenty of clever, "haha, that was witty" moments in the writing itself; I genuinely think McCurdy has committed to a writing style and voice that works well for her personality and the story she has to tell. Be warned, it's a sad story. A story that had me speechless and open-mouthed at times, shaking my head in disbelief at others, and contemplative throughout. As one could probably guess, McCurdy focuses on her tumultuous relationship with her mother, and the multitude of ways said relationship effected her. The narrative is broken up into two parts, "Before" and "After," and the opening scene vividly sets the tone for the kind of story readers are in for. I didn't grow up watching iCarly, or really any Nickelodeon at all, so learning about McCurdy's early acting career and experiences with "the creator" as well as the pressures any prepubescent teen girl must face didn't come with any sort of bias from my own childhood days spent watching her on TV. I think McCurdy spends careful time describing the living environment of her house, the dispositions of her other family members, and the constant control her mother had over every aspect of her life well into her adulthood. The book's tone sets readers up perfectly to be outsiders looking in, aware of the clear abuse McCurdy suffered from a mother she looked up to and wanted to please. It's extremely psychological, to say the least, and intriguing to read through the lens of the now far-removed and clearer-eyed McCurdy. The narrative deals heavily with issues of anorexia and bulimia McCurdy learned from her mother. I haven't dealt with eating disorders, but I resonated with these parts of McCurdy's life on a level that every young woman subjected to societal standards and oversexualization can (sadly) relate to. She captures what it feels like to be aware of your own body for the first time, to see and be a little afraid of how it's growing and changing before your very eyes. She evokes a certain kind of melancholy for young female friendships, that yearning to just fit in when you have no idea who you even want to be yet. McCurdy's honesty about her love life and experiences with sexual intimacy were also empowering to listen to. I appreciated a lack of "fade to black" scenes and her raw delivery in the audiobook. It's books like these, plainly displaying the author's insecurities, mistakes, and fears, that readers can actually connect with as well as respect. They make you stop and think, Wow, they really didn't hold back. That takes guts. McCurdy writes about her mother in such a delicate way, and I get it. Despite the abuse, gaslighting, trauma of hospital visits and cancer and pressure, that woman was her mother. The way McCurdy looks back and comments on everything that happened because of and since her influence is honest, in a word. I once again recommend listening to the audiobook to literally hear from McCurdy herself. I don't think you'll be disappointed.



Some of my favorite quotes from I'm Glad My Mom Died:

"I don’t like knowing people in the context of things. "Oh, that’s the person I work out with. That’s the person I’m in a book club with. That’s the person I did that show with." Because once the context ends, so does the friendship."

"Loving someone is vulnerable. It's sensitive. It's tender. And I get lost in them. If I love someone, I start to disappear. It's so much easier to just do googly eyes and fond memories and inside jokes for a few months, run the second things start to get real, then repeat the cycle with someone new."

"Through writing, I feel power for maybe the first time in my life. I don’t have to say somebody else’s words. I can write my own. I can be myself for once. I like the privacy of it. Nobody’s watching. Nobody’s judging. Nobody’s weighing in. No casting directors or agents or managers or directors or Mom. Just me and the page. Writing is the opposite of performing to me. Performing feels inherently fake. Writing feels inherently real."

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