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Is Untamed by Glennon Doyle worth reading? This 2020 memoir arrives with bold promises about breaking free from societal expectations and living authentically. Doyle, known for her previous works on faith and marriage, takes a dramatically different turn here—one that's both intensely personal and broadly resonant. Where books like Eat, Pray, Love focus on geographic journeys to self-discovery, Untamed argues the real work happens internally, in the messy process of unlearning who we think we should be.
The book chronicles Doyle's awakening to her own desires and needs, particularly around her sexuality and marriage. What emerges is a manifesto for women who feel trapped by expectations—whether from family, religion, or society at large. Doyle writes with the urgency of someone who's discovered fire and wants to share it with everyone she meets.
A Voice That Refuses to Whisper
Doyle's prose style in Untamed is deliberately conversational, almost urgent. She writes in short, punchy chapters that feel like intimate conversations with a close friend who's had too much coffee and too many revelations. The tone is confessional without being self-indulgent—no small feat for a memoir dealing with such personal territory.
Her metaphors tend toward the animal kingdom, particularly the caged cheetah that gives the book its title. While this central metaphor works effectively, Doyle sometimes belabors the point. The writing shines brightest when she drops the metaphorical framework and speaks directly about specific moments: her daughter's anxiety, her own drinking, the day she realized her marriage wasn't working.
The structure feels intentionally fragmented—dozens of brief chapters that can stand alone as essays. This makes the book highly readable but occasionally disjointed. For readers who prefer linear narratives, this approach might feel scattered.
The People in Doyle's World
Untamed centers primarily on Doyle herself, but several key figures shape her story significantly. Her three children appear frequently, particularly her daughter Tish, whose anxiety and authenticity serve as catalysts for many of Doyle's realizations. Doyle presents her children as complex individuals rather than props for her own growth, which strengthens the memoir considerably.
Her ex-husband Craig receives fair treatment despite being cast as the person Doyle needed to leave. Rather than demonizing him, she presents their relationship as fundamentally incompatible—two good people who couldn't make each other happy. Her current partner, Abby Wambach, appears as both romantic interest and fellow traveler on the journey toward authenticity.
The most compelling figure might be Doyle's mother, who represents the generational patterns Doyle is trying to break. Their relationship provides some of the book's most nuanced writing about family loyalty versus personal truth.
Freedom, Faith, and Female Rage
The book's central theme revolves around the difference between being "good" and being authentic. Doyle argues that women, in particular, are trained to prioritize others' comfort over their own truth. This isn't a new concept, but Doyle's personal stakes make it feel urgent rather than academic.
Her treatment of Christianity proves particularly interesting. Rather than rejecting faith entirely, she attempts to separate genuine spirituality from institutional expectations. This middle ground won't satisfy everyone—secular readers might find too much God-talk, while traditional Christians may bristle at her theological flexibility.
The book's handling of sexuality and coming out later in life feels honest about both the joy and complexity involved. Doyle doesn't present her realization as simple or painless, which adds credibility to her account.
Where the Roar Becomes a Whimper
Untamed succeeds as personal testimony but stumbles when trying to be universal prescription. Doyle's specific circumstances—financial security, career flexibility, supportive community—make her choices possible in ways that aren't available to everyone. The book occasionally feels tone-deaf to readers facing genuine constraints rather than internal barriers.
The advice sometimes veers into oversimplification. Complex problems get reduced to matters of will and courage, which feels reductive. Doyle's privileged position allows for choices that many readers simply cannot make, yet this reality receives insufficient acknowledgment.
Some chapters read more like Instagram captions than substantive reflection. The book's social media origins show, particularly in moments that prioritize inspiration over insight.
Worth the Emotional Investment?
Untamed works best for readers experiencing their own moments of awakening or transition. Women feeling trapped by expectations—whether in marriage, career, or family roles—will likely find validation and encouragement here. The book offers permission to want more, which can be genuinely transformative for the right reader at the right moment.
However, readers seeking practical advice or systematic approaches to change might feel frustrated. This is memoir as permission slip rather than roadmap. For those comfortable with that framework, Doyle offers compelling testimony about the possibility of radical life changes.
The book's greatest strength lies in its refusal to apologize for female desire and anger. Doyle gives voice to feelings many women recognize but rarely express, which explains both the book's popularity and its polarizing reception.
My verdict: 3.5 out of 5 stars. Untamed delivers powerful moments of recognition and validation within an occasionally uneven package. It's highly recommended for women in transition but may frustrate readers seeking more universal applicability or practical guidance.
You can find Untamed at Amazon, your local bookstore, or directly from Dial Press.
