I had been watching good people my whole life from a distance, and though I had tried—over and over I’d tried—I had never been able to excoriate the deep, deep wrongness of being that I felt ever since I was a little kid. I was always choosing the wrong thing, always making the wrong moves. Always outside. The goodness, the rightness, of others fascinated me, the way that things one is not born into usually do. In a way, my project was an opportunity to study it close-up. I wanted to know what it was like, even if it was only for one minute in a decade, to feel good because I was good, because
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