December 2023 Top Novel: “I’m Glad My Mom Died” by Jennette McCurdy
It’s rare that a memoir lives up to the waves it makes online, but Jennette McCurdy’s I’m Glad My Mom Died does exactly that (and more). From the blunt title to the raw pages inside, McCurdy delivers a story that’s equal parts heartbreaking, honest, and surprisingly funny. I chose it as my top read for December 2023 not just because of the buzz surrounding it, but because it lingered. It made me think differently about childhood, control, and what it really means to grow up.
For those who grew up watching iCarly or Sam & Cat, Jennette McCurdy’s face was familiar. She was the funny, food-obsessed best friend with perfect comedic timing. What none of us saw, though, was what was happening when the cameras stopped rolling. In this memoir, McCurdy pulls back the curtain on her life as a child star, but more importantly, on her relationship with her mother, a relationship that shaped every corner of her world.
What struck me right away was the writing. There’s no sugar-coating, no overly dramatic language trying to tug at your heartstrings. It’s clean, straightforward, and somehow that makes it all hit even harder. McCurdy writes from the perspective of her younger self, letting readers experience her confusion, fears, and the deeply rooted desire to please the one person who was supposed to love her unconditionally.
Her mother, Debra, is portrayed not as a villain in the traditional sense, but as a woman so consumed by her own dreams of fame and control that she failed to see the damage she was causing. From calorie counting and forced auditions to disturbing invasions of privacy, McCurdy shares moments that made me pause, reread, and sit with my own thoughts about parental influence and expectations.
There’s a particular ache that comes from reading about someone trying so hard to make their mother proud, even when the bar keeps moving. McCurdy was pushed into acting at six years old, living out her mom’s Hollywood dreams. Acting wasn’t something she loved, in fact, she dreaded it; but it became her world because it was her mom’s world. That kind of manipulation, disguised as love, is something many people can relate to in quieter, less public ways.
What elevates this memoir is that it isn’t just a celebrity tell-all. It’s a story of survival. McCurdy writes openly about developing eating disorders, struggling with addiction, and feeling suffocated by guilt and grief long after her mother’s death. Yet somehow, there’s humor threaded through it all—dark, sometimes shocking, but so real it made me laugh out loud more than once. It’s the kind of humor that only comes from living through something hard enough to earn it.
The title itself sparks strong reactions, but after reading, it feels justified. It’s not a cheap attempt at shock value. It’s a statement of hard-earned freedom. McCurdy explains that it wasn’t until her mom passed away that she could begin to understand how manipulated she had been. Only then could she start figuring out who she really was without someone else pulling the strings.
I admired how she doesn’t try to wrap everything up in a neat bow. Healing, in her story, isn’t linear or complete by the final page. Instead, she leaves readers with the honest reality that sometimes survival is the victory. Sometimes, all you can do is keep going, learning how to exist outside the shadows of people who claimed to love you while breaking you.
What makes I’m Glad My Mom Died so impactful is that it isn’t just about Jennette McCurdy. It’s about anyone who’s ever felt trapped by family expectations, anyone who’s tried to navigate grief mixed with relief, or who’s carried the guilt of wanting distance from the very people they’re “supposed” to love most. She gives voice to complicated feelings many don’t dare say aloud.
Finishing the book, I found myself thinking about the power of storytelling—real storytelling, stripped of artifice. McCurdy doesn’t hide behind fame or nostalgia. Instead, she takes the messiest parts of her life and lays them bare, not for pity, but because they deserve to be seen.
As the year closed out, this memoir stayed with me. Not because it was perfect, but because it was brave. It reminded me that sometimes the most important stories we tell aren’t the polished ones, but the ones where we finally say what we mean, out loud, for everyone to hear.
If you’re looking for a read that makes you think, feel, and maybe even laugh through the tears, I’m Glad My Mom Died is it. It’s not a light read, but it’s worth every page. A tough, honest reminder that breaking free sometimes means learning to let go of even the deepest bonds, and that’s okay