Kerry Docherty on selfishness, self-erasure, and why reclaiming yourself is never just about you


What does it mean to be a whole person? How do you balance your commitments to others with a need to be self-fulfilled? It might mean being selfish. While you may balk at the word, Kerry Docherty, cofounder of clothing brand Faherty, explores the meaning of selfishness in her memoir Selfish (Harmony Books, 4/21/26).
In her brutally honest memoir, Docherty recounts her path to co-founding a company with her husband, his twin brother, and his family. She initially begins her career in the law, but finds more fulfillment in teaching mindfulness. When her husband and his twin brother decide to start their clothing brand—their childhood dream— she decides to join them in building up the new company.
But it’s not just the story of building a business; it’s the journey of self-discovery after giving so much of herself to the business, her marriage, and motherhood. Docherty presents the cost of losing a sense of one’s self and her struggle to find her most authentic self.
The Parlor had a chance to talk with Kerry Docherty about her work.
The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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The Parlor: Why is it important to be selfish?
Kerry Docherty: We have to believe that our survival depends on being a thriving, present and content human. I think a lot about how so much of life is math, and we can only give so many spoons based on the number of spoons we have. It sounds so simple, but we're so often giving away more than we have, and there's not a lot left for us. What are the consequences of that? That's what this book explores: what lurks in the shadows when we're not being fulfilled.
The Parlor: There was a part that really chilled me. It’s the moment that rumors spread that you and your husband were getting a divorce because you went on a writing trip by yourself. You point out that no one questions when men go on camping or fishing trips.
Docherty: It’s a double standard. I don't want to genderize, but we can genderize that men just don't need to justify reasons for not being in the home. That's how capitalism is set up: [as a man]. I can sacrifice my family life for ambition and be called successful. But when a woman wants to prioritize what brings her to life and what her needs are, and she does them, it's perceived as selfish.
I don't think I should justify wanting to work on my writing any more than my husband wanting to go on an adventure with his friends or even take a five day work trip. Does he reap some type of value from that work trip? Monetarily, sure. My value-add is returning home, happier, more patient, more content, and more satisfied. How is that value also not comparable to potential money? Where are we placing value on things? This book talks about it in a very subtle way. How do we perceive people's value of time?
The Parlor: It was interesting that you brought up Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree a couple times in the book. You talk about how it makes your daughter cry when you read it. Maybe this book is a metaphor of what it's like to be a mother where you give everything away until there's nothing left. It feels like The Giving Tree epitomizes some of the themes you explore in your memoir.
Docherty: I love that you noticed that and brought that up. I wasn't trying to be symbolic when I wrote it. It really was just a book I used to read to my daughter, and she used to cry and I wanted to use that vignette, but it is symbolic of what so many women face. I don't know if it's a story of what unconditional love looks like, or if it's a story of how we whittle away our life force to nothing and we become stumps.
But it's interesting because I do feel like my daughter really sees me. I'm constantly trying to
give words to what my needs are, even if I can't achieve them.
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Become a paid subscriberThe other day, I came home and I was like, “Oh man. I'm stressed out right now, and I feel like I have so much to do.” And she said, “Do you want to go take a beach walk by yourself?” She had observed how healing it was for me when I took walks by myself. And then she said, “I can come with you, but I know sometimes you like to walk by yourself.”
At age 10, she's cognizant of the things that I need to do to self-regulate without internalizing, ”Oh, my mom's in a bad mood. Did I do something wrong?” She's able to differentiate my mood and her mood in a way. I do think when we prioritize ourselves, it teaches our children to become aware of needs, boundaries, and desires that need to be fulfilled.
The Parlor: At the end of the book, you talk about the act of publishing this book as a selfish act. You write, “I am prioritizing my own desire for unbridled, creative truth telling over others’ comfort and feelings. I am writing this book because I want to.” Closer to publication, do you still feel this way?
Docherty: I do still feel like this book was selfish. I feel like there needs to be a support group for people who write memoirs, and there needs to be a support group for people who are memoirs that do not want to be in memoirs. There have been real consequences for me in sharing such private parts of my life. It's been worth it, and it's ultimately been profoundly healing.
Sometimes when we pursue our dreams, there are consequences for the people that we love, and it can even hurt them. Whether that's time or energy away from family. It is just the truth. I think that often happens.
Think about the astronauts who just went to the moon. Reid Wiseman was talking about how his wife had passed away, and he has two daughters. The daughters knew that he might not come back, and he knew that going to the moon was a selfish act.
But sometimes when we pursue what we love, it's also a selfless act, because when we are so fully aligned with who we are, it does have a ripple effect. I think it's an inspiration to other people. But somebody could look at that astronaut going to the moon and be like: “How dare you do that to those girls? Because they could be orphans.”
Now going to the moon is a matter of life and death. Choosing to publish a book is not, but there are certainly people who say, “How could you write this book? It really could hurt your family. It could hurt the company we helped found if people don't like what's in the book.” I do think sometimes telling the truth can be a selfish act because it will make people feel uncomfortable.
The Parlor: How do you know when you’re done writing a book like this?
Docherty: The book ends in real time. The last chapter is my husband reading the first draft. I could have kept writing everything that's unfolded since then. It's our lives. It continues to unfold. My memoir ends in real time as much as it possibly could have. My editor was like “pen down.” I said, “I just had this conversation yesterday with my husband,” and she was like, “it's done.” We have to end somewhere.
The Parlor: What do you want people to take away from this book?
Docherty: I want people to be reflective of the parts of the book that they were most drawn to, and what selfish means to them. I want people to think about what parts of them feel like they need more tending and what should be brought out and prioritized with, even if it might affect other people. Maybe the book gives them some courage to be out in their discomfort about proclaiming what they want.

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