From Autumn Issue 63
In partnership with Movember, Glass Man sits down with American actor Lukas Gage to talk about his brutally honest memoir and how he hopes it will help others
Lukas Gage first broke into the spotlight when filmmaker Sam Levinson cast him in Assassination Nation in 2018. A year later, he went on to create Euphoria calling upon Gage again, saying he was “born to do this”.
Since then, he has built an impressive body of work across film and television, including standout roles in The White Lotus, You and Fargo. Aged 30, Gage shows no signs of slowing down, with upcoming projects including Rosebush Pruning, Netflix’s People We Meet on Vacation with Emily Bader, Tom Blyth and Jameela Jamil, and the Prison Break series. With his just published memoir I Wrote This For Attention, he now adds “author” to his already extensive resumé.
Photographer: Shane McCauley
Published by Simon & Schuster, the book describes, growing up in a fractured family, his coming-of-age and his struggles with borderline personality disorder as well as the luck, boldness and perseverance that have propelled his career to such heights. Writing became an emotional scavenger hunt, helping him piece together the past while learning to be kinder to himself in the process.
His story is raw and unfiltered yet also one of self-awareness and the determination to live life on his own terms. In partnering with Movember, the world’s largest men’s mental health organisation, to spark honest conversations around mental health, Glass Man highlights a cause that resonates deeply with those who have lost loved ones to suicide, reminding us all of the importance of speaking up, checking in and breaking the silence that so often surrounds unseen struggles.
In the book, you admit to lying in your childhood diaries. Were those stories a form of escape or were you already performing for an imagined audience?
I’d say both. Part of it was definitely an escape and part of it was rewriting my truth to make it more interesting, more like the ideal version of my life. But I also think there was always a storyteller in me. Even though I was embellishing the truth, I really wanted to tell a story and craft a narrative. I was creative but I didn’t have the outlet, the teachers or the guidance yet. So my journals became the first place where I could explore that.
Chapter one of your memoir is titled I Killed a Kid. It’s bold, evocative and understandably open to misinterpretation. Were you hoping to jolt the reader or was it more about confronting your own story head-on?
I wanted to make it clear from the start that this wasn’t going to be a linear, polite, cookie-cutter memoir. It was always going to be more like creative non-fiction. And yes, part of me wanted to entice readers with something bold that hooks them in. But the “kid” I killed is really that part of me I’ve always wanted to get rid of the performative, desperate, dying-to-be-liked side. That version of myself stays with you your whole life. So trying to kill him off at the beginning set the tone for the entire book. It was both a way to grab people and a genuine, authentic statement.
Photographer: Shane McCauley
It’s almost as if you’re writing the book with your inner child. In therapy, people are often told to write a letter to their inner child and then let them go. But you bring yours along for the entire journey. Instead of saying goodbye, you drag him with you, which feels like a very different approach.
Totally. One of my favourite quotes from Mike White, one of my favourite writers, is “the mother is a child too”. He says it’s enlightened and I think that’s so true. Our inner child never really leaves. Just because we’ve grown up doesn’t mean that little boy in the beginning of the book isn’t still living in me today. He is, and I have to be kinder to him, reframe the way I talk to him and treat him with more compassion.
You write, “My dad’s house was my house, but my Sims house? That was my home.” Do you feel that because of what was going on in your childhood, with your parents breaking up and your home life shifting, the virtual home you created in The Sims was the one you didn’t have in the real world? What did that virtual world give you that the real one didn’t? I ask because you revisit it in different chapters of your book and it feels more significant than just having fun on a computer game.
Yeah, for sure. Part of it was that I genuinely loved designing and making these cool Moroccan-themed houses that felt lavish and sexy. But another part of me wanted that ideal family system, the one you see on TV, with the mom and dad and siblings who all get along, living behind a white picket fence. That was the escapism for me. And not only did I play The Sims, but I had the online version, which they later banned for some shady reasons – and I’d get lost in it. I had online families, wives, husbands, kids. It really was an escape. And honestly, I still keep all the games on my bookshelf. I’m looking at them right now.
Photographer: Shane McCauley
Movember has become such an important platform for mental health awareness, especially among men. As someone who’s been open about your own mental health journey, why do you think it’s crucial for public figures to share their stories?
I think it’s important because a lot of the time we present as if we have everything together, with perfect lives and curated moments on Instagram or in interviews. But at the core, we’re all human and we’re all dealing with mental health issues. Just because I’m in a lucky position doesn’t mean I don’t have to stay on top of it with therapy, medication, meditation and other self-care. If I don’t, my professional life would suffer. Being honest about it and not making it taboo can help normalise mental health discussions. If I can help even one person, I feel like I’m doing something meaningful. I wish I’d seen that openness more when I was a kid. Mental health just wasn’t talked about as openly back then.
Do you have any personal experiences that make the Movember cause hit closer to home?
I talk about some of it in the book, and some of it didn’t make it in. But in the place I grew up, which looks perfect on paper, so many people I knew either overdosed or took their own life by the time I graduated high school, including really close friends. I constantly think back and wonder why I didn’t see the signs. That’s an important thing to acknowledge – you don’t have to be a parent or know everything to check in with someone.
I wish I had checked in more, really asked people how they were doing, not just superficially. Life is curated on social media, but we don’t know what’s happening behind the scenes. Mental health issues like depression and anxiety run in my family, so I make a point of checking in with family and friends and asking real questions. Looking back, my biggest regret is not doing that more. Sometimes all someone needs is for a loved one to ask, “How are you?”
Photographer: Shane McCauley
You once described your marriage decision to Chris Appleton [celebrity hairstylist] as a manic episode on a TV show, and the press ran with it long before your borderline personality disorder (BPD) diagnosis was public, turning it into sensationalism. With your memoir, do you think audiences struggling with mental health will now understand your statement and your diagnosis differently?
I hope so. I think people may have misinterpreted what I said as a joke or making light of it, which it wasn’t. It was a genuine manic episode caused by a combination of medications and my body chemistry not working with them. That’s not to shirk responsibility. I did want to get married and I was in love but part of me wasn’t fully there. That’s something you need to discuss with psychiatrists or psychologists.
With a disorder, when your brain chemistry is off, these episodes can happen. I’d experienced similar episodes before but I didn’t have the vocabulary to understand them. I hope sharing this sheds some light. I talk about it with humility and a little humour because that’s how I cope with grief, failures and mental health challenges. It’s serious but for me a bit of grace and laughter is necessary. I can’t dwell too heavily on it.
How did it feel at the time that the media turned your words into clickbait, when most of the world didn’t understand your genuine diagnosis?
Well, If I’m going to make comments on a show like Watch What Happens Live, I have to expect this will happen. There’s a bit of remorse for maybe not choosing the best platform or wording, but I can’t be surprised. The media often reshapes things, especially in pop culture or gossip contexts. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the reality and I knew it was a risk.
Photographer: Shane McCauley
When you wrote, “I don’t envy anyone who loves someone with BPD”, were you reflecting on your own struggles with self-worth? How do you see it differently now?
At the time, I felt like I would be impossible to love, mostly because of my sharp tongue and impulsiveness. I remember a friend once saying, “Nobody on the planet has the right to talk to me the way you do,” and it hit me. I was becoming like some of the negative patterns I’d seen in my family. That behaviour wasn’t who I wanted to be but it was tied to my disorder and my lack of mindfulness.
Since then, I’ve worked to be more intentional with my words, less reactive and kinder to myself. I still embrace that messy, impulsive kid I describe in the book, someone with challenges, yes, but also incredible traits. So now, I acknowledge it’s not easy to love someone like that, but I lead with more kindness, ownership and self-compassion.
With your diagnosis, you talk about “breakdowns, sleepless nights, dissociation, erratic mood swings and frantic efforts to outrun the looming shadow of abandonment.” Is that still a daily reality or do you have ways of managing it?
Yes, I think it will always be something that’s there, a kind of looming presence. But I’ve realised the world isn’t as dangerous as I was taught to believe, so I don’t have to react to everyone aggressively. Being reactive is a choice. I can choose to manage it through therapy, the right medication and self-help practices like meditation, yoga, breathing exercises and walks. Those things help me prevent slipping into a fight-or-flight mindset where I feel everyone is out to hurt me. The feelings will probably always exist but I can quiet that noise if I do the work. I also check in with family and friends about my depression and anxiety. Honestly, my one regret growing up is not doing that more.
Photographer: Shane McCauley
You’ve said your career began with sheer dumb luck, delusional confidence and a lot of courage. Is that still the engine that drives you?
One hundred percent. I think so much of it is still luck – being in the right place at the right time, in the right room, the right number on the call sheet. There are so many things out of your control and the minute you accept that, you realise it’s not all about you. The boldness, tenacity and grit never went away. I had an insane amount of it when I moved here [to LA] at 18 and I still fight for things. I still send letters and when I get a no, sometimes I ask if they want to reconsider for these reasons. I don’t let things go easily. With this book, for example, I got a lot of No’s on my first pass. But that was fine. I’d never written a book before, so it probably needed work and I needed to give it another try.
Who was Lukas before writing this book and who is Lukas now that it’s finished?
Still me but hopefully a slightly more aware version . The biggest compliment I’ve received from friends and loved ones who have read it is that they understand me so much more now. Things that they never quite understood about me suddenly clicked. For me, it was like an emotional scavenger hunt. I started piecing things together.
At first, I won’t lie, part of writing it was practical. I was in the middle of the strike [over Hollywood’s use of AI, 2023], I couldn’t write screenplays or act and I needed a job. The first proposal pages were about selling the book. But halfway through, the meaning shifted. It became something deeply personal. It wasn’t just a cash grab or a way to prove something to people, it was a chance to take a real look at myself and take ownership.
The biggest thing I learned is that Lukas now owns his shit. If someone wants to call me out or tell me I’m a bad friend or partner, I want to hear it. I don’t want to be defensive or play the victim. I want to understand where things come from, connect the dots and take responsibility. That awareness came from this book. It meant a lot and I think I can also be a little kinder to myself along the way.
by Jheanelle Feanny
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Photographer: Shane McCauley
Stylist: Syndey Lopez
Grooming: Candince Birns using STATEMENT GROOMING
Styling assistant: Angelina Arena
Talent: Lukas Gage
Look 1: Blazer and trousers LOEWE, Vest STYLIST’S OWN, Necklace MAOR
Look 2: Top and belt STYLIST’S OWN, Watch and jewellery CARTIER, Trousers BRIONI
Look 3: Blazer AMIRI, Shirt and trousers AMI PARIS, Jewellery CARTIER, Belt STYLIST’S OWN
Look 4: Blazer and trousers LOEWE, Vest STYLIST’S OWN, Necklace MAOR
Look 5: Sunglasses RAY BAN, Jewellery CARTIER, Shirt and trousers VIVIENNE WESTWOOD, Shoes DOLCE & GABBANA
Look 6: Top and tie MFPEN, Jewellery CARTIER, Vest STYLIST’S OWN