Love, Lust And Faking It Part 7

Before I end this chapter, I have to tell you that I b.u.mped into Jeff, the boy who made fun of my bra, at a bar while I was on Singled Out. Singled Out. He came up to me and said, "Wow, you really grew up hot. I can't believe it. Do you want to dance?" He came up to me and said, "Wow, you really grew up hot. I can't believe it. Do you want to dance?"

I smiled and said, "Sorry, I don't dance with dorks."

[28].

The Facade: Love the Fake Me.

Whenever I look back at past relations.h.i.+ps, I cringe when I think of how perfect I tried to be in the beginning. Laughing at dumb jokes, acting like a lady, farting in the other room, pretending I like to watch football when I would rather be getting a root ca.n.a.l. This is incredibly common in all relations.h.i.+ps. We work so hard to win the approval of our new partner, their friends and family, that we lose touch with who the h.e.l.l we are. We don't live our lives... we are acting them instead.

What winds up happening as a result is that by the time our partner tells us they love us, we get angry inside because they actually fell in love with our pretend self. We morph into who we really are, and our partners think we have changed. But we're truthfully showing them for the first time who we really are.

I even had this happen in my relations.h.i.+p with you. Yes, you reading this. I had a facade that I was this ball-busting, tough, belching, loud cheerleader on this show called Singled Out. Singled Out. This is not how I am in my everyday life. When I auditioned for the show, I tried to figure out what hadn't been seen in a hot chick on TV. No pinup had dared to make fun of herself the way I did, so I played the act and became really famous for something I was not. Living up to that facade was hard on me. Everywhere I went people wanted me to punch them in the arm or stick my tongue out. Every red carpet I went to, the photographers would scream at me to pick my nose in the picture. I thought this was how I would win your approval, your love. I thought girls would like me more because I wasn't trying to be hot. It worked because it was a breath of fresh air to see a girl belch and not care what she looked like. But I became so tired of the act that it began to make me crazy. Every magazine I would open up, I was making a wacky face. I kept talking about being this free-spirited, wacky, fun chick, when all I did was sit at home every weekend and play chess with my fifty-year-old boyfriend. This is not how I am in my everyday life. When I auditioned for the show, I tried to figure out what hadn't been seen in a hot chick on TV. No pinup had dared to make fun of herself the way I did, so I played the act and became really famous for something I was not. Living up to that facade was hard on me. Everywhere I went people wanted me to punch them in the arm or stick my tongue out. Every red carpet I went to, the photographers would scream at me to pick my nose in the picture. I thought this was how I would win your approval, your love. I thought girls would like me more because I wasn't trying to be hot. It worked because it was a breath of fresh air to see a girl belch and not care what she looked like. But I became so tired of the act that it began to make me crazy. Every magazine I would open up, I was making a wacky face. I kept talking about being this free-spirited, wacky, fun chick, when all I did was sit at home every weekend and play chess with my fifty-year-old boyfriend.

Then one day I woke up and said, Enough! I went out to a red carpet event, and the photographers shouted, "Do something crazy, funny." I replied, "No, I'm all done with that." They slowly put their cameras down and refused to take my picture. I was in shock! Even my date was in awe of the protest the photographers were making. I stood my ground and posed like a normal human being. Maybe one flash went off before I moved on. This went on for two years. Every red carpet I went on, I fought with the photographers to let me just pose pretty. I didn't show up in magazines for two years, and it got to the point where people would say to me, "Do you work anymore?"

It's just like in a real relations.h.i.+p when you start to reveal who you really are, and your boyfriend might not like the true you. He might get angry that you had changed. That is what happened in my career, and it was devastating. I decided that when I made any sort of a "comeback" I was just gonna be real-even if I seemed boring, even if people didn't like it.

Pamela Anderson is another prime example of this phenomenon. Her pretend self is the s.e.xiest woman in the world. We expect to see s.e.x dripping down her fingernails all the time. If she had cut her hair and made her b.o.o.bs smaller ten years ago, would we still like her? Who knows? I think we can all tell she is struggling in her forties to hold onto the facade of being the s.e.x kitten we all want her to be. This is in no way an insult to Pam. I like her. I have seen the side that you don't see, and she is the "no makeup sweatpants Mom" who is completely normal, but she wouldn't dare drop the facade for fear of your disapproval. Hopefully, one day she will feel safe enough to.

Let's examine the pretend self a little more ... What the h.e.l.l are we so scared of? What's the worst that could have happened if we had answered honestly instead of all the lies we tell our new boyfriends at the beginning of a relations.h.i.+p? "No, I don't really like basketball." Maybe his response would have been, "Okay." Wow, can you imagine? He might have been fine with the truth. Let's move to the next one, "I don't really like your crazy aunt." He might have just said, "Yeah, me neither." And we could have laughed about it instead of listening to the crazy b.i.t.c.h talk about her chest infection. Let's do the next one: "I really don't want to miss my girls' night out." He might have been b.u.mmed, but I also suspect that he would have found the honesty more of a turn-on than if I had stayed home with him.

I'm in the painful process right now of revisiting my behavior at the beginning of each relations.h.i.+p I ever had. And like I said in the beginning of this chapter, sometimes it's embarra.s.sing to live through it again. But the more I look back, the more I become aware of what I did and the joy I sacrificed as a result. Hopefully now I will be able to recognize when my pretend self pops up in a relations.h.i.+p and stop myself from trying to trick my future man into thinking I'm perfect. I hope, just like in my career, I can feel okay with being liked by some and hated by others. Authenticity makes the world a better place.

[29].

Aphrodisiacs: So We Don't Have to Fake It.

aph-ro-di-si-ac p.r.o.nunciation:[image]

Function: noun noun 1: an agent (as a food or drug) that arouses or is held to arouse s.e.xual desire.

1. Bat Meat In Indonesia and Malaysia bat meat is one of the most popular ways to get things rockin' in the bedroom. It's easy to find (usually at your local supermarket or from street vendors), and costs virtually nothing. It's the street hot dog of the East. But we're not talking about making the bat into some nice tangy spread to put on crackers; you eat the whole thing-head, wings, and all. Not unlike a lobster dinner. Yum.

2. Rhinoceros Urine If you're still waiting to experience that mind-blowing night of s.e.x and you don't really care what you put in your mouth, then India or Nepal is the place for you. It's here that you can purchase a cup of rhinoceros pee at the Kathmandu Zoo. You'll find it right next to the T-s.h.i.+rts and souvenir DVDs. The animal keepers there collect the fresh pee every single day and make sure it's bottled quickly to guarantee purity. Just drink a gla.s.s shortly before having s.e.x, and turn a regular old night in the sack into a mind-blowing jungle boogie. But don't forget to bring mints.

3. Big-Bottomed Ants Colombia, South America. These critters are apparently such an awesome aphrodisiac that people give them as wedding gifts to help the just-married couples get off to a good start. Word is they taste great roasted.

4. Snake Blood Poisonous varieties are preferred. Bangkok bartenders are more than happy to stir some snake blood into plain water or rice wine to make it more palatable. But if you're a real man (or woman), then slurping the blood straight from a newly made puncture in the snake's tail is the way to go. Apparently, the effect hits you in under ten minutes, so wait until after church or that important presentation to drop some.

5. Reindeer Antlers Reindeer antlers, huh? I guess now we know why Santa Claus has such a big bag. In Scandinavia, arguably the best place besides the North Pole to find a reindeer, locals grind the antlers into a fine powder that is dissolved into hot water a couple of hours before pork time. And the rep for this b.o.n.e.r juice is so high that people as far away as China pay Bill Gates-size amounts just to import it.

6. Spanish Fly Spanish fly is, yes, a Spanish fly. One of the oldest known aphrodisiacs, this roach has been used for enhancement of the male organ for centuries. Once you consume one of these babies (crushed up, of course), it's excreted into the urine and causes the genitals (or in medical terms, the shlong) to swell to enormous size and stay that way for hours. Who needs v.i.a.g.r.a?! When taken by women, it supposedly causes a mild itching sensation down there that can be confused with s.e.xual arousal. It's either that or crabs.

7. Rhino Horn Rhino horn is commonly believed to have originated as an aphrodisiac in Chinese folk medicine, but it's a popular getter-upper in India as well. Usually it's taken with a bit of honey. I would hope so. Otherwise how would you get that thing in there?

8. Oysters Raw oysters as h.o.r.n.y potion date back as far as ancient Rome. Some believe that this started because of the oyster's resemblance to the female naughty bit. If my female naughty parts looked like a raw oyster, I think I'd die. Taco, yes. Oyster, not so much. Even though there is no proof that oysters work as an aphrodisiac, they can be fun to slurp on a first date.

9. Sea Cuc.u.mber You wish this were an actual cuc.u.mber that grows at the bottom of the sea, but noooooo! It's a huge, sausage-shaped sea creature that stiffens and squirts fluid when disturbed. Sound familiar? In China, this male performance enhancer is cooked into what basically amounts to something like pork fat, which is then spread on crackers. It can't be consumed whole. That wouldn't look very macho.

10. Balut In the Philippines, you can buy this aphrodisiac right off the street. The name may sound like some kind of Polish doughnut treat, but it's wayyy not. It's a duck egg that contains a fetus about twenty days into gestation. The egg is tapped, flipped upside down, you drink the liquid, then peel the egg to reveal part of a duck fetus and the occasional feather. Okay, you can go throw up now.

11. Wolf Meat In Mongolia wolves are a popular aphrodisiac, especially in the winter. When consumed, the diner has been known to experience a "warming effect" throughout the body. It's easy to see how this could be a.s.sociated with jump-starting the s.e.xual appet.i.te. Someone should introduce Hot Pockets over there and save the species from extinction.

12. Fugu, aka Blowfish One of the most poisonous fish in the sea, the fugu or blowfish is considered one of the most potent aphrodisiacs in j.a.pan. Some people believe that it's the tingling sensation you get from eating the nontoxic part that gives you the s.e.xual rush; others claim that it's the fish's t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es that have been soaked in sake that really do the trick. In any case, make sure you get a licensed sus.h.i.+ master to prepare it for you because one bite of the poison part, and you're dead meat.

13. Tiger p.e.n.i.s In China, Taiwan, and South Korea, the most sought-after "tool hardener" is, sad to say, tiger p.e.n.i.s. In theory it's supposed to increase male stamina when consumed, but all it really does is decrease the already dwindling tiger population.

14. Green M&Ms Green M&Ms have been considered an aphrodisiac since the early 1970s. Not surprisingly, green M&Ms are the only color that still remains from their debut in 1941. d.a.m.n, and I've been eating the red ones the whole time.

15. Placenta Many people, and not just dirty hippies, believe that eating the afterbirth will catapult their s.e.x drive into orbit. Sheep placenta is even sold over the counter in stores across Asia for this specific reason. But hey, even if it doesn't put lead in your pencil, it's still a nutritious start to a great day!

16. Love Stone, aka Toad Venom This aphrodisiac has probably killed more people than it's gotten laid. The Love Stone, which is basically toad venom, comes from the West Indies but is really only still used in China. Take the wrong amount of this stuff, and that fun time you're having is going to be your last.

17. Urine Pretty much any kind of urine will do. Baboon urine is mixed with beer in Zimbabwe. Cow urine straight up is pretty popular in India. People have even been known to drink cat urine just so they can have a wild time in the sack. But probably most popular is the human kind. It's sometimes taken from people who are high on hallucinogens to give it that extra kick. It's even sold in some grocery stores and usually comes with a free toothbrush. Okay, that last part isn't true. But it should be.

18. Ambergris Sounds like some sort of precious gem, right? Well, it isn't. Ambergris has been utilized for centuries as an ingredient in perfume, but its most popular use is as one of the world's most sought-after aphrodisiacs. What is it? you ask. Why, it's sperm whale vomit, of course. If that doesn't get you hot, then I don't know what will.

19. Soup Number 5 If you find yourself in the Philippines and you're in need of a s.e.xual pick-me-up, just order Soup Number 5 at the nearest restaurant. And if they don't know what you mean, just tell them you want the soup made of bull p.e.n.i.s and t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. The s.e.xual enhancement properties of this tasty dish are legendary.

[30].

Lights Off in the Bedroom!

Most of us have body issues that drive us crazy. The only person I can say probably doesn't is Giselle the supermodel. She might have the most amazing body on the planet, but G.o.d probably gave her really bad period cramps, cuz no one is getting off that easy. For the rest of the female population, body issues plague our thoughts whenever we try on clothes in front of a mirror, wear swimsuits on the beach, and of course during s.e.x.

Keeping the lights on during s.e.x exposes every flaw, leaving some of us vulnerable and depressed. It's when I become most paranoid about myself because I don't want any man to be less attracted to me-especially considering the fact that I'm getting older. A guy can go score a twenty-year-old whose canooter was not blown out by a baby. I also ballooned up to 211 pounds on my last day of pregnancy, so I can relate to insecure body issues.

I really envy women who are on the bigger side and have confidence that they are 100 percent hot-lights on or lights off. To me they are s.e.xier than Giselle. Guys are attracted to confidence, and if we can just get ourselves to be like that, we might be okay with a little junk in our trunk. And I guarantee our men would be, too.

Personally, I don't think guys care that much. They are so h.o.r.n.y most of the time that I don't think they notice. Sure, they get a b.o.n.e.r watching a Victoria's Secret commercial, but odds are they are never gonna get one of those models, so why do you care?

I'm not saying I look disgusting. I know I have a good body, but my skin is not the same, with all the stretch marks. It's awful! And gravity doesn't help things either. My b.o.o.bs are so droopy that if I don't wear a bra, I'm afraid I'm going to accidentally flush them down the toilet when I go pee.

What men, who are also aging in the bedroom, need to realize is that having the lights off during s.e.x is beneficial to them them also. Men have a tendency to get a little big in the belly, and what usually follows are man-t.i.tties-which are far worse than any amount of cellulite a girl could ever have. If I wanted to see b.o.o.bies shake in my face during s.e.x, I would be a lesbian. In the meantime, boys, lights off during s.e.x if that sounds like you. also. Men have a tendency to get a little big in the belly, and what usually follows are man-t.i.tties-which are far worse than any amount of cellulite a girl could ever have. If I wanted to see b.o.o.bies shake in my face during s.e.x, I would be a lesbian. In the meantime, boys, lights off during s.e.x if that sounds like you.

The other benefit to a dark room is that I can imagine myself hot and naughty. I can bend in positions that can make me seem like the s.l.u.t he hopes I am in bed. I have noticed though, as I get older, that I have zero interest in trying to fake being turned on. I want to be l.u.s.ted over, and I want to l.u.s.t over him. When you don't feel l.u.s.tful in bed while having s.e.x with your man, it can actually feel like you're getting raped. I know that sounds harsh, but I mean it in terms of "taking one for the team" when you're not in the mood. It truly is amazing how painful s.e.x can be when it feels like a ch.o.r.e. I still think it's cruel that we weren't born with the same s.e.x drive as men, but statistics say men usually die before women, so I guess we get one bonus in the death department.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are some brave souls out there who enjoy watching the s.e.xual act with the lights on. I have one girlfriend who says she doesn't care either way. But she also doesn't have a C-section scar with fatty tissue hanging over it. I have no idea how p.o.r.n stars do it. They are under the hottest lights and usually have to contort themselves into positions that are unflattering for most humans. I'll go with my mom's point of view on this one, which is, "They are high, and that's why they don't care." That's actually not a bad idea. Have a little drink if you think your man is gonna want to do it outside at high noon.

Overall, I think a great compromise in the lighting battle is to dim the lights or use candles. Not only is it romantic, but it really does give nice shading to older skin. Sure, it's a kind of faking, but that doesn't matter-I need to feel good for me, otherwise I'm gonna fake more than the lighting.

[31].

When Botox Goes Bad I was standing backstage waiting for my name to get announced for the first episode of a new talk show, was standing backstage waiting for my name to get announced for the first episode of a new talk show, The Megan Mullally Show. The Megan Mullally Show. (It's no longer on air, and I can't help but wonder if that had to do with me.) As I stood there waiting, I tried to do as many mouth exercises as I could. I looked into a mirror backstage and saw drool coming down the side of my mouth. "Oh Gawd! What da h.e.l.l em I gonna do?" Jojo, who does my makeup, looked at me and said, "You look like a stroke victim!" (It's no longer on air, and I can't help but wonder if that had to do with me.) As I stood there waiting, I tried to do as many mouth exercises as I could. I looked into a mirror backstage and saw drool coming down the side of my mouth. "Oh Gawd! What da h.e.l.l em I gonna do?" Jojo, who does my makeup, looked at me and said, "You look like a stroke victim!"

The lights brightened, and I heard, "Please welcome Jenny McCarthy!" I shouted to Jojo, "Quick do sumpting!" She replied, "Maybe you should of thought of that before you froze your entire chin with Botox." The stagehand pushed me out into a glaring bright light, and as I walked onto the stage I saw these huge grins on the faces of the audience; they couldn't wait to see what wacky crazy thing I was gonna talk about. My heart raced as I got closer to Megan, who gave me that familiar TV host look: "b.i.t.c.h, if you f.u.c.k this up, I'll kill you." Thoughts of double-page spreads in every gossip magazine-"Jenny McCarthy overdoses on Botox; loses ability to speak"-flashed through my head. I took a seat opposite the host and listened to the clapping die down. "Jenny, it's so great to have you here," the host said.

Oh my G.o.d, I'm supposed to speak now? What am I gonna do? Should I faint? Yeah, I should faint! But then everyone will think I'm on drugs. Maybe I should run off and pretend I have the stomach flu. No, cuz people will still think I'm on drugs. s.h.i.+t. G.o.d, please help me. I slowly blinked my eyes and felt a rush come over me that felt like an angel had just picked me up and dropped me off in heaven. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find myself standing inside a cloud in the sky, looking directly at G.o.d. He resembled Jesus, but just a little bit chubbier and hairier.

"G.o.d, please help me. I'm supposed to speak right now on TV, but I can't because my chin is frozen. Wait, my chin is not frozen anymore!"

G.o.d replied, "That's because you're in heaven right now, idiot."

"Am I dead?"

"No, I give one pa.s.s in a lifetime to people who are about to ruin their lives. And you are about to ruin your life."

"Jesus Christ."

"No, it's G.o.d," he replied.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Haven't figured it out yet," he said.

"Well, I think people are kinda waiting on me."

"Jenny, what in the h.e.l.l made you go to a doctor and get your entire chin Botoxed? I mean, let's get real for a second. Who does that? I can see your forehead, but your chin?"

"G.o.d, I started to get these two dents in my chin, and when I mentioned them to the doctor, he told me I could Botox it to make it go away."

"I gave you those dents. Why would you not not want something I gave you?" want something I gave you?"

"Well, let me get real with you now, G.o.d. Why in the heck would you give women wrinkles in the first place? We already have to go through childbirth, we stay up with the babies, we are exhausted, our b.o.o.bs sag, we get wrinkles, and many husbands cheat on us because we get frumpy. Why couldn't you just give us a break in the wrinkle department?"

"Listen, you are the stronger of the two human forms. I knew you women could handle almost anything and personally ... I like saggy b.o.o.bs."

"Well, that's because you're like one hundred trillion years old."

"Go to h.e.l.l."

All of a sudden the clouds parted, and I fell through them. I began screaming and continued to scream until I hit a hard surface. The wind was knocked out of me, and I struggled to get my bearings. It was dark and gloomy. All of a sudden a shadowy figure approached. He looked familiar. Oh my G.o.d, it was Satan!

"Greetings, my insecure one!"

"Satan, what za h.e.l.l em I do in here? Oh no, I canth talk again."

"Well, you are obviously caught up in your looks, and I couldn't be more proud. I think you look fantastic, by the way. Those wrinkles in your chin really did disappear."

"Weally?" I ran over to a mirror in Satan's dojo and began screaming in horror. My chin looked liked Jay Leno's! "You canth weave me like tis."

"Leave you like what?... beautiful? You are destined to be my second best student!"

"Who's your first?"

Suddenly a body came down from the ceiling and landed in a loud frump. frump. Once the smoke cleared, I saw that it was Joan Rivers. Once the smoke cleared, I saw that it was Joan Rivers.

Satan said, "She is."

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I was sitting across from the host, who repeated her sentence, "Jenny, it's so great to have you here." I realized at that moment that it was inevitable: I must surrender to the G.o.ds of aging and be comfortable with some wrinkles in my life. In the meantime, I had to get through this interview. I drew on the same strength that people use if their baby is trapped under a car and they lift it with one hand. I moved my mouth with all of my might and replied, "It's great to be here."

I did it. I said a sentence! Now I only had six minutes of talking to do. Throughout the rest of the interview I spit on the host at least thirteen times and sounded like I had a lisp. I was happy with that. Once I got backstage Jojo looked at me and said, "You're an embarra.s.sment to our family." I knew Jojo would get over it. I was a few years older than her. No doubt Satan's potion would beckon to her at some point, too.

[32].

Women: The Masters of Manipulation I thought only evil girls manipulated men to get what they want. Oh no, Charlie Brown, we thought only evil girls manipulated men to get what they want. Oh no, Charlie Brown, we all all do it! I was first made aware of this when I sat down with a therapist shortly after moving to L.A.: "You know you manipulate guys by testing them to get what you want." I was shocked. How dare she say such an awful thing?! She said, "Think about everything you told me and try to find it." So I flashed back to what I had told her, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Holy c.r.a.p, Batman! I was a master of manipulation! do it! I was first made aware of this when I sat down with a therapist shortly after moving to L.A.: "You know you manipulate guys by testing them to get what you want." I was shocked. How dare she say such an awful thing?! She said, "Think about everything you told me and try to find it." So I flashed back to what I had told her, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Holy c.r.a.p, Batman! I was a master of manipulation!

I moved to Los Angles in 1994. By 1997, I had moved in with this guy named Paul. I had a really hard time adjusting to his house because of course it was his his home. I didn't feel like I belonged and never felt truly at home there. I roamed the halls afraid to leave my shoes in the corner. I also noticed I would start h.o.a.rding and holding on to boxes of junk in the guest room so I felt like I actually had something of mine in the house. I know this sounds so stupid, but it was real to me, and it will give you a good idea about how we unconsciously manipulate, so just hang in there with me. home. I didn't feel like I belonged and never felt truly at home there. I roamed the halls afraid to leave my shoes in the corner. I also noticed I would start h.o.a.rding and holding on to boxes of junk in the guest room so I felt like I actually had something of mine in the house. I know this sounds so stupid, but it was real to me, and it will give you a good idea about how we unconsciously manipulate, so just hang in there with me.

So ... within the first week of moving in, I said to Paul, "We need a new mattress." He answered with a perfect guy response: "Yeah, eventually." I immediately went into an internal mind spin and thought, I don't have a say in the house. I'm just a guest. I feel worthless, and I don't belong here. I really started to believe these thoughts because, as the spiritual teachers teach us, once we believe our thoughts, they do become our reality. And for three years I roamed those halls believing, I don't belong here, I don't feel welcome. So unconsciously I began to test him. Again, I wasn't aware of this until the therapist woke me up to it. My sob story to her was, "Paul doesn't make me feel like I'm at home; Paul doesn't let me do anything in the house. Wah wah wah wah wah wah." And then I looked at how I tested him to prove to me that I belonged in his home. I walked him to the living room one day and said, "It really looks like an old lady died in here. No one wants to sit in this room ever. Can I change it? I don't want to buy anything. Let me just move all the furniture around." Paul answered, "I think it's fine just the way it is, babe." Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh. My insecurities were going nuts. My insecurities were going nuts.

Then I tried something easy, or so I thought. I took down some of his pictures to hang some that I liked. He got upset with me because he thought they belonged in a different place in the house. He said his dead mom was always on that wall, and to move her would be wrong. I pleaded, "But she won't know she was moved because she's dead, baby!" He stormed off with a strong, "No!" This threw me into another "I don't belong here, this isn't my home" tailspin. At night, I was like a hamster roaming from room to room, imagining how I would change things.

Because of my "issues," I started holding resentment toward Paul. I would be sitting across the room looking at him while he was watching TV, and have so much anger because I just wanted to feel at home. Poor guy had no idea! Looking back now, I can't believe how much energy I wasted trying to test Paul into proving I belonged in his home. I was driven to get my mission accomplished. I thought to myself that even dogs pee on their surroundings to mark their territory. It's human nature. I pictured myself going outside and peeing on a bush. Again, I was completely oblivious to the fact that I was testing him. I really thought that I simply wanted to redecorate, and that Paul was being stubborn.

So ... I started to up the pressure and got my friend to pose as a decorator to come in and do a quote. I showed Paul what the designer was going to do to the living room, and he said, "That's too much money." I replied in perfect manipulative form: "No, I'm gonna pay for it." Wow, I thought, there is no excuse now. This will prove now that I belong here. This will make me feel like I'm home if he allows me to do this. I'm paying for it, not him. So there's no excuse ... or so I thought. He replied, "We're having Christmas at my house this year, and I don't feel like dealing with construction." Dammit!!!!!!

I failed again. Now, I don't want you guys to think I was doing this to him every day for three years. It was sporadic, flaring up whenever I felt unworthy of being in his home. That's when Jenny "Martha Stewart" McCarthy would rear her ugly head and find anything to change in the house. And to answer the question I hope you guys are asking by now-Why was Paul being so stubborn about his place? Why wouldn't he just let you redecorate a room?-believe it or not, the reason doesn't matter, because I was still trying to manipulate him into proving that I belonged there. If I kept blaming him, I would never get to the problem of it being my my problem. problem.

Then after three years of living together he said to me, "You know, it does kinda look like an old lady died in the living room. Go ahead and change it." I couldn't believe it. Oh wow, that should make me feel at home now! I walked out of the room with a big smile on my face. Within minutes, however, I felt the smile fade. After three years of trying to test him into letting me change the house, I still had that sense of not feeling at home. WTF? This was supposed to be the answer to all of my worries. Weeks went by, and I did nothing with the living room. I would walk past it and think, I don't want to redecorate. I hate decorating. Paul kept asking, "Did you start to pick things out?" I would answer with, "No, I've been really busy." Which was total bull. I was numb and confused as to why I didn't want to redecorate, and why I still felt out of my element. Which brings me back to the shrink: "Jenny, you are a huge manipulator. You tested Paul just so he would prove your insecurities wrong."

I replied, "Don't we all? Doesn't every woman and man do things to manipulate to get what we want?"

"Yes," she replied, "but they are not awake to it, so they can't change it yet. Now you are awake. Now you are going to be able to stop yourself from testing Paul in order to make yourself feel better. Jenny, did you ever think from day one you could have sat down and simply said, 'I'm going through these weird emotions since I've moved in, and I don't feel like I belong here. I want to feel at home, but I'm having a hard time"?

Yeah, why didn't I? I totally could have. Why couldn't I simply state my insecurities? I've realized that it's hard to express our insecurities to our men when we really just want to be adored, loved, and l.u.s.ted over by them. We want to look like the perfect mates, not insecure hot messes. Well, looking at my own c.r.a.p, I could see so clearly that I'd done this with more than just the furniture in my life. I mean, if we haven't felt desired by our man in a long time, haven't we all dropped a, "This guy hit on me at the store," instead of just saying, "I'm not feeling like you find me s.e.xy anymore"? We are masters of manipulation.

So, I hope some of you saw yourself in my story. I've gotten so much more self-aware, but I still bust myself from time to time. Let's just remember to examine our behavior and ask the question, "What do I really want? What do I really fear that's causing me to act this way?" And then sit down with your man and tell him. It could save you years of manipulation.

[33].

The Making of a Polish p.o.r.n Star I worked in a Polish grocery store selling Polish sausage to Polish people for five years of my life. I was half Polish, so I sort of connected with them. We didn't just sell Polish sausage, this store was unique. We sold p.o.r.n magazines, too. (Polish people really know how to party!) I was only a teenager, so it was really awkward when men would come in and buy the magazines. "Four links of sausage and worked in a Polish grocery store selling Polish sausage to Polish people for five years of my life. I was half Polish, so I sort of connected with them. We didn't just sell Polish sausage, this store was unique. We sold p.o.r.n magazines, too. (Polish people really know how to party!) I was only a teenager, so it was really awkward when men would come in and buy the magazines. "Four links of sausage and Lip l.u.s.t Lip l.u.s.t magazine," they would bark. I would get so angry having to dig through the rack to find their stupid p.o.r.n, it made me sick. I threw it in their bag and d.a.m.ned their sausage to h.e.l.l. Ironically, when it was slow, I would glance at the magazines to see what my v.a.g.i.n.a actually looked like, considering they show angles women never actually see on themselves. magazine," they would bark. I would get so angry having to dig through the rack to find their stupid p.o.r.n, it made me sick. I threw it in their bag and d.a.m.ned their sausage to h.e.l.l. Ironically, when it was slow, I would glance at the magazines to see what my v.a.g.i.n.a actually looked like, considering they show angles women never actually see on themselves.

The one magazine that made me a little curious was Playboy. Playboy. Those girls didn't seem like wh.o.r.es, even though I was certain they had sold their souls to the devil. The month I was looking at had Anna Nicole Smith as the centerfold. I remember thinking, "Well, her thighs aren't perfect. I could maybe pull something like this off." Then I quickly put the magazine away, shocked I could ever even have thought that I could do something so disgusting. Those girls didn't seem like wh.o.r.es, even though I was certain they had sold their souls to the devil. The month I was looking at had Anna Nicole Smith as the centerfold. I remember thinking, "Well, her thighs aren't perfect. I could maybe pull something like this off." Then I quickly put the magazine away, shocked I could ever even have thought that I could do something so disgusting.