I Am Shy By Nature,

Love—the Desire To Love And Be Loved, To Hold And Be Held, To Give Love Even If Your Experience As A Recipient Has Been Compromised Or Incomplete—is The Constant On The Continuum Of Hunger, It's What Links The Anorexic To The Garden-variety Dieter, It's The Persistent Pulse Of Need And Yearning Behind The Reach For Food, For Sex, For Something.

Smooth And Ordered On The Outside; Roiling And Chaotic And Desperately Secretive Underneath, But Not Noticeably So, Never Noticeably So.

By Definition, Memoir Demands A Certain Degree Of Introspection And Self-disclosure: In Order To Fully Engage A Reader, The Narrator Has To Make Herself Known, Has To Allow Her Own Self-awareness To Inform The Events She Describes.

For Years, I Ate The Same Foods Every Day, In Exactly The Same Manner, At Exactly The Same Times.

Mastery Over The Body - Its Impulses, Its Needs, Its Size - Is Paramount; To Lose Control Is To Risk Beauty, And To Risk Beauty Is To Risk Desirability, And To Risk Desirability Is To Risk Entitlement To Sexuality And Love And Self-esteem.