Whose Desire Is It Anyway?

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Men, women, and children at a picnic in the park (1900). Library of Congress.

I remember a time when I took on other people’s desires. Little by little these desires accumulated, like borrowed pieces of clothing—Mickey Mouse socks here, a sports jersey there, palazzo pants, a snake belt, a beret, until ALLOFASUDDEN I was wearing this strange outfit around town, but why not! Everything felt strange in those days.

These were the early years of sobriety, life was topsy-turvey, identity was watery, and I was looking around for some good ideas in the field of How to Live. It’s easy to mistake What You Want as a door into How to Live. Also, while I took on the wants of friends and colleagues, I was also taking on their dissatisfactions—because isn’t there always a lack planted inside a desire?