CHAPTER
The Wish to Be Saved
I am lying alone on the third floor of our house with a bad
bout of the flu， trying to keel) my illness from the others. The
room feels large and cold， and as the hours t~ass， strangely inhos-
[~itable. I begin to remember myself as a little girl， small， vul-
nerable， helpless. By the time night falls I am utterly miserable，
not so sick with flu as with anxiety. \"What am I doing here， so
solitary， so unattached， so... floating?\" I ask myself. How
strange to be so disturbed， cut off from family， from my busy，
demanding life . . . disconnected...
A break occurs in this stream of thought， and I recognize: I
am always alone. Here， without warning， is the truth I spend
so much energy avoiding. I hate being alone. I d like to live，
marsupialized， within the skin of another. More than air and
energy and life itself， what I want is to be safe， warm， taken
care of. This， I m startled to find， is nothing new. It has been
there， a part of me， for a long time.
Since that day spent in bed I ve learned that there are other
women like me， thousands upon thousands of us who grew up
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