Empathy: Noun; 
 The ability to understand and share the feelings of another. 
 I'm not going to insult the main character of this book by saying, "I empathize with her." I cannot. I don't know what it's like to be fat. I don't know what it's like to experience snide comments about one's weight from a complete stranger. I don't know the mortification of trying on a dress a few sizes too small and then, horror of all horrors, becoming stuck in it. I don't know what it is like to have a perfectionist mother, who is constantly trying to put their daughter on a diet plan since before their age even reached two digits. I don't know the pain and self-loathing the main character feels as she fails repeatedly in her attempts to lose weight, only to let herself down time after time, in a self-sabotaging, vicious cycle of emotionally eating yet another slice of cheesecake that she can't even taste. 
 ...and I don't know if I can write a positive review about this beautifully written book without sounding like a thin-privileged asshole, but here is my attempt. 
 I loved this book. It will not change your world, it will not make you weep crazy tears, but it will make you make you smile, it will make you think, and it will make you cringe (in a good way!) from secondhand embarrassment as you suffer alongside Ann as she goes through the awkwardness that is adolescence. 
 Despite the emphasis our society puts on weight and the multibillion dollar industry on it, heavy heroines are extremely uncommon in literature. When's the last time you saw a truly fat character on a cover? Even in this book with its overweight, 185 pounds heroine, the character's body is covered up in a pile of clothes, so that we see more clothes than person because god forbid there should ever be a gross fat character on the cover of a book that is expected to be sellable, right? 
 More often than not, the fat characters in books hate themselves, and Ann is no exception. She is a teenager, flawed, contrary, smart-mouthed, and complete with teenaged insecurities on top of her issues about being Size 17. Ann is not the most likeable character. She is not intended to be. It is a difficult age, and Ann's family and background is well-presented enough for the reader to get a true sense of how she became the person she is, and why she turns to food for comfort. Her constant excuses got on my nerves at time, her procrastination, her attitude of "why do today what you can do tomorrow" attitude annoyed me, but she is such a typical flawed teenager, and I never found myself hating her despite wanting to shake some sense into her at times. But adolescence is a time for growth, for maturity, for self-understanding, and I truly feel her character is so well-developed throughout the book. 
 Ann's awkwardness is just legendary, it's half the fun reading this book; I didn't know whether to laugh or cry as I read her uninhibited verbal flops during a job interview. 
 "'At first, I thought you were a guy.' Then I try to backtrack. 'Not that you look like a guy.' And end up making it worse. 'Even though your hair is really short.' I wish she'd say something, anything, and end my blathering, but she doesn't. 'I like your hair. I mean, it's super cute. It's just Ryann is usually a guy's name.' More giggling. 'I bet you get that all the time.'" 
 I did not find this book preachy. Despite the topic, despite the premise of losing weight, this book does not emphasize the fact that in order to be happy, in order to love yourself, you must be thin. 
 Ann's attempts at weight loss is not straightforward, she is a pro at this. Her mother is a perfectionist, practically a Stepford Wife. It is clear from the very beginning that Ann's emotional connection with weight loss stems from her mother and her family, as well-intentioned as they may be. Her mother is the beautiful, immaculate type who constantly whines about being fat even though she has never been anywhere near fat; she never eats more than a few bites, constantly berates Ann on the size of her portions, and has placed Ann on some type of diet or another since she noted that her daughter was growing into a rather chubby child. For the majority of her life, Ann has had to deal with her mother's issues over Ann's weight, and consequently, it becomes her problem as well. 
 I loved the fact that the teens in this book are not stereotyped into your typical high school cliques. Ann may be fat, but she is not ostracized at school because of it; she is intelligent, she is funny, and she has friends of her own, even if some friends are more of the frenemy types, like Cassie. The popular girls are not all mean bitches, the guy she crushes on is not omg-so-hot, and even if she has giddy feelings for him at first sight, it doesn't feel like insta-love, more like a schoolgirl's giddy infatuation, and not those of the soul-mates variety. 
 And he's normal. How refreshing is that? A little taller than she is, brownish hair, a little chunky, not a marble god. Attraction is not purely physical; and the author has my appreciation for giving us average characters. 
 My favorite part about this book? The cast of family, and the glimpses into Ann's past. It made me understand her so much better. The portrayal of her family is so ridiculously well done. I absolutely loved them. Her chain-smoking grandma with the unfortunate habit of calling everyone a "fat-ass" (not helpful for Ann), her complicated brother and his deliberately provocative and rocky relationship with their parents, her "perfect" stepfamily with the politically aspirational and well-meaning stepfather, the little twins Liberty and Justice (AKA Libby and Judd; I said their father is an aspiring politician, didn't I?), the supportive gay aunt and her lovely soon-to-be wife, the step-grandmother who redefines passive-aggressiveness (the breakfast scene is awesome), and above all, Ann's complex relationship with her mother. 
 Despite Ann's mother's overbearing attempts at changing her daughter by making her lose weight, you get the sense that her mother truly loves her. Ann's mother is not perfect, even if she appears that way. She has had a hard life, she's a little bitter (ok, more than a little bitter) at the ex-husband who left her and two tiny kids, she's trying to do her best to be a wife and mother, and she truly tries to do well by Ann. They have a rocky relationship, more often than not Ann's mother is distracted by her husband, by the little twins. She is not always there for Ann when Ann needs her, and sometimes she is just too present when Ann just wants to push her away during her darkest moments. 
 "'We don't have to buy a dress here.' Mom's voice is quiet, comforting. Tears stream down my cheeks. Uncontrollably. 'Let me in, honey. I'll help you get the dresses back on the hangers.' 
 Next thing I know my picture-perfect-Barbie-doll mom is army crawling under the door of the dressing room. Raspy giggles escape around the lump in my throat. She inches over, carefully avoiding the dresses, and tries to put her arm around me. I pull closer to the corner, away from her, but she still tries. 
 'So these don't fit,' she says. 'We'll go somewhere else.' 
 'It won't matter,' I whisper into my knees. The tears start up again. Why does she have to be nice? Why can't she just wait outside and let me have a good cry? I don't want to talk about this. Especially not with her. She doesn't understand how I feel. Not even close. I don't want to hear her act all sympathetic like she gets it." 
 Recommended for those who want a well-written YA book with an enjoyable cast that will leave you feeling happy, and full.