Disclaimer: This article contains spoilers for “I’m Glad My Mom Died” (2022).
A note: Perhaps it goes without saying based on the shocking title, but Jennette McCurdy’s memoir contains intense and potentially triggering topics, so I definitely encourage reading content warnings before diving into this book.
Now, for the review you’ve all been waiting for: “I’m Glad My Mom Died.” This book caught the attention of pretty much every reader when it came out — and it’s been brought back into many conversations recently due to the popularity of the new docuseries “Quiet on Set: The Dark Side of Kids TV” (2024).
McCurdy’s memoir was heartbreaking and exceptionally written. I was — and remain — in absolute awe of McCurdy’s vulnerability and courage to put her truth out for the world to read and judge. I know there’s been a lot of controversy about this memoir, but I thought it was phenomenal, and not just from a writing perspective. I really admire McCurdy’s ability to bear her truths in their full horror, many of which were painful. To relive the appalling things her mother put her through via writing a memoir is brave.
The central theme in McCurdy’s story is her mom, of course, and readers learn that much of McCurdy’s own emotions and mental health were wrapped up in her mom’s. As McCurdy says, “[my mom’s] happiness came at the cost of mine.” She has physical reactions to her mom’s every action: “My body language shifts immediately. Mom has a way of doing that to me.” It’s painful to read through McCurdy’s relationship with her mother, especially the sexual and emotional abuse she endured.
Since its release, this memoir received a huge influx of incredible ratings and rave reviews, in numbers that are impressive in themselves — and are even more impressive considering this was McCurdy’s first book. It’s clear from her memoir and several subsequent interviews that she had a goal of establishing herself as someone separate from the character she played for much of her childhood and adolescent years.
In the book, McCurdy says: “I’m cemented in people’s minds as the person I was when I was a kid. A person I feel like I’ve far outgrown. But the world won’t let me outgrow it. The world won’t let me be anyone else.”
This hatred of childhood fame and being seen as a character is something that’s been echoed by other childhood stars, like Britney Spears.
While they have vastly different life experiences, I couldn’t help but compare McCurdy’s memoir to Spears’ memoir, which was also released recently. I won’t beat around the bush: McCurdy’s memoir was better in terms of its writing and voice. Spears’ ghostwriter (or writers?) don’t really encapsulate much of her personality in the memoir, while McCurdy has a distinct voice that invites the reader into her life and allows them to connect with her as a real, funny, sad, emotional person.
I’m hesitant to give any critique, since it’s someone’s life story and not a plot that can be edited, necessarily, but perhaps my one dislike was when the monotony of McCurdy’s life began to drag on. But, I also understand this could have been an intentional decision to allow the reader to fully feel how terribly repetitive her life became when she was struggling with an eating disorder and addiction.
Overall, this is definitely worth the read if you’re in a good headspace. McCurdy’s story is told in such raw detail that it is very easy to get lost in it — in fact, it was sometimes so detailed that I had to take several breaks while reading. This is not by any means an “uplifting” or happy read, and I recommend reading some other novel simultaneously — a “fluffy” read, like a silly romance. (Hint: Silly romance review coming soon!)
And while I love McCurdy’s descriptions of dark moments, I’m ending this review with a lighthearted quote that highlights McCurdy’s humor:
“The amount of times I’ve thought buying plants might make a difference in my life is staggering.”
