My favorite books where abuse survivors speak candidly about their secret lives before recovery

I instantly could relate to Author Joseph’s list of excuses for why we binge eat as abuse survivors. Her book is relatable for any go-getter who secretly eats an entire cake. Joseph has many life wins, from marrying her true love, to achieving a multi-decade profession in NYC’s public school system. Underneath that grit and stamina lies a long battle with binge eating that started as a young girl to offset the verbal abuse by her father. As an abuse survivor, I disassociated from my body, and Joseph’s lifelong struggle with food helps me to feel not alone. With her book, I am profoundly grateful to know that the voices in my head wired for fear can be turned down. I can put down the brownies and the cake and shine in my life.  

The fictional account of Kailee’s progression from risky promiscuity into recovery from abuse denial arrested me as Author Martin did not hold back in details. Kailee is successful and independent but her need to control men sexually to feel safe, while medicating herself with alcohol, prevents her from real intimacy. While books like Fifty Shade of Grey glorify sexuality and dominance, Fuchsia Parade unveils the truth behind an unquenchable sexuality, and a woman’s path to recovery. Any woman who is a survivor who aims to understand her sexual agenda will relate to Kailee’s redemption.

When more than three women recommend a memoir, especially one that is by someone famous, I have to pick it up. Usually, I am not attracted to the lives of famous people, partly because I worked in Hollywood for so long. I saw they were just people like us, playing roles and doing their jobs. But Demi Moore’s long battle with body dysmorphia stemmed from a cruel relationship with her mother, where she was even sold for money. As she finds her fame, she is never satisfied with her body, but acutely aware she is underpaid when compared to her famous husband. So on one hand, she can’t align with a personal image of self-love and worth, but somewhere inside is a voice that knows she deserves more. 

Just when I said I wasn’t that interested in the lives of famous people, this book from hilarious and raunchy comedian Haddish came up on my reading list. Shock is an understatement when you read about the poverty and violence from which Haddish resurrects herself from. She doesn’t tell anyone about the abuse from which she emerges triumphant, to where you think perhaps this book is truly the expose of her truth. She plays her cards smart in her career, never sleeping around or downplaying her talents, even when homeless and unsure where her next paycheck will come from. She shows the reader that if your dream is big enough, you can come from hell and still step back up.

What Hillbilly Elegy brought up for me as an abuse survivor is that grey area where one asks if exposure to violence that may not directly affect you is abuse. What do we do about our family members who are uneducated and violent, with aggression as a survival tactic in society. J.D. Vance felt loved by grandparents who were loyal but also extremely erratic in their behavior. He was also taught it was okay to retaliate to his oppressors with violence. His mother’s rage is also a fright for him, where he fears his life even when she doesn’t lay a hand on him. The violence in which he is raised is overt and cultural, but what is layered in the narrative is also how he must endure an endless string of his mother’s relationships. His home is never a safe haven, and from my standpoint, his mother lacks responsibility. Is his abuse? Again, one can debate as the word is not used it may not be, but from the standpoint of what a young person must suffer, I think the book teems with it.