<i>Uncultured</i> is a memoir that spans an extraordinary life — from growing up in the Children of God cult to serving in the U.S. Army. Daniella Mestyanek Young’s story is undeniably compelling, but the book’s uneven tone, narrative gaps, and ethical ambiguities make it a challenging read.
The memoir feels like three different books stitched together. The childhood section is written with novelistic flair — vivid and emotionally intense. The high school and college years are more fragmented, while the Army section shifts into a procedural tone. This inconsistency makes it hard to stay immersed in the story.
Young’s portrayal of her first husband, Jeff, is particularly troubling. She admits to illegally recording a phone call in which he allegedly planned to accuse her of adultery — a serious claim, complicated by her own retaliatory accusation that he was gay. She also describes how he would tear her down when she looked “too pretty,” painting a picture of emotional manipulation, but the narrative feels one-sided and unresolved.
The memoir is saturated with references to body image — from her constant hunger to her fixation on achieving a “condom full of bones” physique, a phrase she repeats to describe the ideal Army runner’s body. These moments are raw and revealing, likely rooted in her childhood experiences of abuse and perfectionism, but they’re also jarring and sometimes feel unprocessed.
Young’s repeated efforts to avoid being perceived as queer in the Army — including her use of slurs — have drawn criticism. While the language is uncomfortable, it reflects the real fear and pressure of serving under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Still, the book doesn’t fully grapple with the implications of these choices, leaving readers to fill in the moral gaps.
Young briefly acknowledges the pervasive rape culture in the Army — including a chilling moment when her superior advises her to “not get raped” before deployment. But rather than exploring this systemic misogyny in depth, she seems to accept it as the cost of being a woman in uniform — until she doesn’t. Her own choices, including engaging in physical relationships with coworkers while trying to maintain a facade of professionalism, are presented without much reflection. These contradictions are never fully unpacked, and the memoir misses an opportunity to critically examine how women navigate — and sometimes internalize — the very systems that oppress them.
While Young’s courage in telling her story is undeniable, she often positions herself as an authority — not just on her own life, but on leadership, cults, and trauma psychology. By the end of the book, she claims “35 years of study of leaders and cults,” a statement that strains credibility given her upbringing in an environment that actively suppressed access to education and outside information. This kind of overreach contributes to a sense that she’s not just telling her story — she’s trying to control its interpretation, which can make her feel like an unreliable narrator.
In so many of the cases of her adult trials -- the threats from Jeff, alleged rape by the man she was dating while on deployment, the missing cell phone of her subordinate, the brain tumor symptoms (after she said she spent months researching right in the text) -- the corroborating evidence is missing, making many of these things one sided.
Uncultured is a story of survival, but it’s also a story that raises as many questions as it answers. The memoir’s uneven tone, ethical gray areas, and lack of introspective depth make it a frustrating read at times. Still, it offers a rare window into the psychological aftermath of cult life and the institutional trauma of the military — even if it doesn’t always do so with clarity or grace.
REVIEW: Uncultured: A Memoir by Daniella Mestyanek Young
RATING: 2-stars
© Jennifer R Clark. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. You may share and adapt this content with proper attribution.
