![]() ![]() He writes that his childhood was “fine”, his psychological tablecloth “fairly spill-free”. His years of pretending to be straight as a teenager were more anthropologically fascinating than scarring: “Horny and grim,” he says of his heterosexual male friends at the time. “Such base-level, dick analogy chat.” He feels similarly distant from other mini-traumas that happened after. Yes, he is “slightly estranged” from his father, who once called him a disappointment, and he’d sometimes drink to excess in his twenties, and his flatmate died by suicide. But in person and in his book, there’s little finality to any of it, no clear-eyed summing up of what are very complex situations. “No one ever puts a nice bow on it,” he explains. ![]() “Accepting that is why I’m happy.”įor a minute, I feel like I’m speaking to Oprah, or the final boss of total clarity and self-belief.
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