Fitting In

An excerpt from the story “Fitting In” on page 26 of my memoir "The Great Unlearning."

Fitting In

“I sliced into my wrists with a razor-sharp edge of a broken Coke bottle while sitting cross-legged in my driveway, careful not to sit on the oil stains where my mother used to park her car. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon in April of 1974 when I broke that bottle on the warm cement in front of my bare feet, the pain of slowly cutting into my wrists was more intoxicating than alarming. As little crimson pearls oozed out of my fresh cuts, I felt disappointed when blood didn’t spurt out onto the ground.

But just as the blood began dripping down my arms, my older brother walked out our front door. Quickly sucking the blood from my wrists, I crossed my arms so he wouldn’t see the fresh wounds. When he sat down next to me and asked what I was doing, distractedly rummaging through his backpack, I lied and said I was waiting for someone to come over.

I wasn’t actually intending to die that day, although my silent screams for attention could have gone terribly wrong. My desire was only to kill myself “just enough” to impress a gang of ninth grade kids at school...”

You can listen to me read the Fitting In by visiting my podcast on Spotify. Or support me by purchasing a copy of “The Great Unlearning” on this site.

Author reflection

After reading this story for my podcast I thought of something Brene' Brown said, “When we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world we will find where we belong. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”

Belonging is a basic human need and is fundamental to our sense of happiness and well-being. I didn’t learn that lesson until I was well into adulthood.

To listen to me read Fitting In, and more stories from my book, head over to my Podcast on Spotify.