Jamison begins this essay by describing different “pained” women from literature and their reactions to that pain. She quotes Susan Sontag, who describes the 19th century’s predilections for making women suffer. Jamison then quotes an ex-boyfriend who called her a “wound dweller” and wonders at whether it is possible for women to experience pain and not be called performative for doing so (186). This is contrasted with a study that shows men are given pain killers while women are typically administered sedatives when reporting pain to their doctors. A friend of Jamison’s tells her that, after a dream, she came to the realization that her wounds were fertile; Jamison speculates on wounds that create stories, but at their center is still hurt. Jamison recounts the scars on her body and how she got them, then transitions into discussing different wounds.

For the first wound, Jamison’s friend Molly discusses how she had wanted scars as a child and then received them when she was bitten on two separate occasions by her brother’s dog. For the second wound, Jamison talks about “cutters,” people who perform self-mutilation. She first discusses the anti-cutter sentiment found online by people who speak disparagingly about cutters, seeing them as “emo” and cutting for attention rather than in an experience of real pain.