 |
| 17-year-old me near the CBS studios, January 2003. |
Some of you longtime readers might've caught the fact that I've alluded to having had a brief flirtation with the entertainment business in my teens into my early 20s. Those who've known me for years remember those days. I honestly don't like talking much about it because I really dislike who I was at the time... and who I was surrounded by during that time. The character of Candace (in the first Will and Lina novel) was inspired by the type of people who were in my life during this time. There was a lot of lying, backstabbing, and mental abuse that I endured from people who were supposedly my friends. Despite my hating going down that memory lane, I'm going to open up about certain things for this post.
I've talked how happy I was to have been able to escape Hollywood in time but I've never really talked about the harder things I faced. After reading all the horror stories when the #MeToo movement exploded, I was grateful that, by the grace of God, I was able to avoid some of the more traumatizing experiences that seem to be the norm with other young actresses and models.
Those who've known me for years -- since before my reversion -- know the obvious key to my not having been another #MeToo casualty: my parents. My father had the nickname "The Lord of the Keys" because of how strict he was. He drove me practically everywhere, even into my early 20s. Part of the reason for that was because my anxiety was so bad that they didn't want to risk having me get a license. The other part was that my parents were overprotective of me my entire life.
I used to hate it. I still cringe when I think about it. I knew they were worried about me and that they wanted to protect me but it was so uncool to have your parents drive you everywhere when you're a teenager. Let's not even talk about how embarrassing it was to still be driven around into my early 20s. Oh, sure, I went out with friends. They used to come to pick me up and then drop me off at home at the end of our outing. I always pitched in for gas money so all they had to waste was a bit of time driving me home.
When I had auditions, my father always took me. Even if he waited outside in the car, he insisted on taking me. Neither of my parents was keen on me entering the biz but they never stopped me from trying... so long as I understood they would not pay for any of it. If I wanted it, I had to work for it. If I wanted headshots, I had to keep working as a retail slave until I earned the money. Dad drove me to auditions but he did it somewhat reluctantly.
At that time, my anxiety was at its peak. The doctor had put me on Paxil which messed up my system. I dropped down to about 105 lbs on the medication, which is very underweight for someone who is 5'7". To give you ladies an idea: the day I turned 18 I was a size 00. Yes, that's a double-zero. I didn't do anything to avoid eating nor have I ever had an eating disorder (thank goodness!). The medication was just incompatible with my body and I couldn't keep the weight on. You'd think that someone that skinny would have no issues with being told to drop weight but... wrong! I vividly remember someone called me a "cow" once; telling me that I needed to lose more weight. I remember standing in front of him, thinking, "What the heck are you smoking?" (Yeah, teenaged me didn't mince words.)
I was told what I needed to change, physically. I was never perfect and I've never been perfect (thank goodness!). I needed to have this and that surgery. I don't know how that didn't bother me or send me into a state of depression but it didn't. I had parents who always made me feel like I was fine as I was. I had an amazing core group of friends who would voice how stupid they thought other people (especially those in the biz) were for wanting to change me. I even remember once, when I was a senior in high school, we all went to the local Carl's Jr to eat after classes were over. I had told them that someone had suggested I lose more weight earlier that week. They promptly told me I was too thin and to ignore them. That was followed by a major junk food feast for all of us. lol.
Things went beyond that, though. The closest I came to having a #MeToo moment was when I was 19. A well-known Hollywood writer on a (then) popular show tried to charm me... and failed. Long story short, I was on the Universal Studios backlot filming something that day. I had arrived early and hadn't had anything to eat at that point so I decided to have lunch away from the ruckus of the shoot. Being an introvert, a sought a somewhat secluded area not far from the backlot cafe to sit and take in the experience I was having that day.
Next thing I know, this guy comes over and starts talking to me. He had business propositions but my warning radar and the red flags went off from the beginning. I was flattered but, please, I knew better. He offered me his information and talked about how his office wasn't far from where I sat and ate. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. I had heard the horror stories of the infamous "casting couches" so I was always on my guard. I didn't (and still) don't think of myself as being this super attractive person but I knew guys with power in Hollywood preyed on young women trying to break into the biz. Strong pass, amigo. I politely excused myself and went back to where we were filming.
There were other minor blips along the years. I dated an actor in my late teens and there was mutual interest with other actors over the years but I gave myself a "no actors (or musicians)" rule for a reason. That one actor was enough for me. To this day, he's still known as "the evil poopy-diaper" (we were super mature 17-18 year-olds when we gave him that nickname) by those who know me during the time that I dated him. He's the reason why I had absolutely no interest in dating for a while. He's the reason why I made a vow to never get involved with actors, at least not in a romantic capacity, ever again. Cliffs notes/spoiler version: he presented himself as being one way (very morally upright) and he was completely different (read: utterly depraved) in private. This, unfortunately, isn't uncommon in the biz.
After years of "yes, no... maybe... I like acting and screenwriting but...", my moment had come. I had recently turned 20 years old when I was offered a contract with a top agency. It was offered less than a week after my meeting with them. They "liked" my look; I looked "racially ambiguous" and a lot younger than I was. I "photographed well." I could book a lot of different jobs. They wanted to make sure I was over 18 so I could go out for commercials and print ads that featured alcohol in them... and book jobs that would allow me to present myself as the adult I was. Yeah, I knew what they meant by that -- they wanted to make sure I was old enough to be dressed in skimpy, revealing outfits (or less) if the job required it.
Immediately, I was uncomfortable with that idea. Those who've known me since childhood known that I've never been comfortable flaunting what God gave me. It was never a "modesty" thing. My parents never told me what modesty was -- I didn't even hear the term until I was in my early 20s after I reverted -- but they did raise me to always keep myself tastefully covered. Not in a way that made me ashamed of being a woman but in a way that said that I was worthy of respect. That was what my parents had drilled into me from a young age: I was a young woman worthy of dignity and respect. No one -- man or woman -- had any right to any part of my body without my consent. The way I dressed should always reflect that respect I deserved.
Did I really want to disappoint my parents (and, really, myself) by signing a contract with an agency that had absolutely no problem pimping me out for jobs? Did I want to be objectified for the sake of selling something? Absolutely not! Even at that time -- and this was a year before I reverted to the faith -- I knew that those print ads exploited women; that they used women's bodies to sell products. (side note: See, everyone? That one Women's Studies course I took my freshman year of college wasn't a total waste, lol.) I didn't want to be just another piece of meat; another woman who used her body for the pleasure of others.
When they called to offer me the contract, I declined it. They were shocked. In fact, everyone was surprised because of how much I had wanted to act. It was my creative outlet (before I realized how much more I love writing). I just couldn't do it. I wasn't comfortable with the prospect of having to go out for jobs that made me uncomfortable. There was something inside of me that yelled, "Run fast and far away and never look back!"
My parents would've supported me. When I told them that I was just going to continue going to college and figuring out what I wanted to major in, they were supportive. In fact, my mom actually told me (only a couple of years ago) that they were relieved when I had declined the contract. My parents always allowed me to make my own mistakes and only stepped in when they thought I was going to make a huge mistake I'd greatly regret. One of my most prized memories is of my father -- a few days before he passed -- telling me he trusted my judgment when it came to guys and in general. That's how I know they didn't step in when I was offered the contract. They knew I would make the right decision when it came down to it.
I know that, despite being away from the Church, my guardian angel and the Holy Spirit were looking out for and guiding me. That inner voice that told me to not sign -- to walk away and not look back? I know that was the Holy Spirit. God had greater plans for me. I can see that now. He was preparing me for my return to the Church. Sure, my life was much easier back then. The only thing I had to worry about was homework for classes and having a ride back home from a concert I went to that week. And, yes, I've had to endure a lot since, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not only was I able to keep myself from having the burden of carrying around shame for something that I would've later regretted, I've come to see just how terrible that lifestyle is.
I'm not saying that everyone's experiences in Hollywood are similar but after hearing all the #MeToo horror stories and reading Leah Darrow's book, The Other Side of Beauty, I became even more grateful for the Holy Spirit's guidance from that lifestyle and all that potential danger. I can now sit here, before the crucifix on my bedroom wall, and thank God for helping avoid being another #MeToo casualty.
Before I end this blog post, I want to say that (small spoiler alert!) my third novel sort of touches on all of this -- what the acting world is like from the POV of those who live it. I started working on it last summer (June 2017), months before the whole #MeToo thing exploded. As many of those in the know will tell you, I felt a prompting from the Holy Spirit to write it after witnessing the intense idol worship of celebrities, particularly of young women obsessing over young celebrities. My novel doesn't really go there (there are no #MeToo situations in it because I didn't experience it and my novels tend to be cleaner in content) but it will touch on things I've experienced... and still experienced until recently. Even though I'm no longer in the biz (and haven't been since I was 20), I still have a lot of behind-the-scenes insights that most people don't have access to.
So that's my story. If you missed it: I avoided becoming a #MeToo casualty thanks to my parents and (really) the Holy Spirit and my guardian angel. Like I said, God had (and still has) bigger plans for me and that scene was not something that He wanted me to be involved with. I'm so incredibly grateful for having avoided so many potentially traumatic situations and will never take it for granted. Sure, some days I miss how carefree that time of my life was but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world -- not even all the bad I've experienced since.
OH! One more thing: please don't bother looking for me in credits for anything. I've always liked using pseudonyms to keep the craziness away. That and I'm hoping to keep the past in the past. I don't want any of that craziness dug up and brought back into my life. I spent years in cognitive-behavioral therapy due to it. Let's not add to it. lol.
Alright, I have two articles and the third novel to work on so I'll be getting back to that.
I hope you're all having a lovely start of the week.
As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D
