We’d like to pay tribute. Not to Katniss. Not to Peeta. But to that thing we dare not speak of—hunger.
That’s right. When did hunger become a dirty word? Not just impolite, but a full-fledged profanity—right up there with motherf***er and that other word that makes Brits laugh and Americans clutch their pearls. It’s not your garden-variety “damn” or a cheeky “shit.” Hunger is a tier-three cuss, a thing to be avoided, silenced, and shamed.
But why?
A Brief History of Hunger (No Poison Berries Included)
The word hunger comes from the Old English hungor, which simply meant what you think it does: that gnawing, primal sensation of needing something to sustain you. Food. Warmth. A little action behind the woodshed. It’s a survival mechanism, coded into our very cells. But somewhere along the way, hunger—particularly when women express it—became a problem.
To be hungry for food? That means you’re greedy, indulgent, incapable of self-restraint.
To be hungry for sex? That means you’re desperate, loose, or just too much.
To be hungry for power? That means you’re a threat.
Is it any wonder we learned to swallow it down?
May the Odds Be Ever in Our Flavor
We learned early that admitting we’re hungry is admitting weakness—because hunger means lack, and lack means not enough. But here’s the kicker: what’s so terrifying about a woman who knows what she wants? Oh, right. Everything.
If you’re hungry, it means you desire. And if you desire, it means you have needs. And if you have needs, it means someone (or something) might have to actually meet them. The horror.
The Capitol (otherwise known as diet culture, patriarchy, and the wellness industrial complex) wants us to believe that the most powerful version of ourselves is the controlled, disciplined, fasting, celibate, polite, well-behaved lady who doesn’t need anything—or worse, anyone. But last time I checked, Katniss Everdeen didn’t win by staying quiet and satisfied.
The Rebellion Starts Here
It’s time to reclaim hunger—not just for food, but for life itself. Eat the bread. Take up space. Burn the metaphorical Capitol down if you must. A woman who honors her hunger isn’t weak—she’s just finally playing the game on her terms.
And as for anyone who’s still uncomfortable with a woman who admits she’s hungry?
Well. Let’s just say they can volunteer as tribute.
Also, please consider pre-ordering my book! Subscribe to this Substack and I’ll send you the super-secret discount code!
Available on April 15! (wow, just realized that is Tax Day—BOO. This is way more fun)
Ready to join the hungry tribe! 🦋