Jessica Wilde's Blog - Posts Tagged "memoir"
Why I Wrote Going Wilde
Early in the process of writing my memoir, I met up with a friend for a drink. When I told her about the book, she said, “ Why would you want to write that? Doesn’t it mean reliving a lot of bad stuff?”
She wasn’t the first or the last person to ask me that question. I get it. A lot of people want their past to be in the past. We move on.
Much as I understand that, I wanted to own my story. When you put yourself out there in the digital world trying to earn a living on social media, so many people create a fiction around who you are. My followers, and lots of other people, project their own perceptions and assumptions onto Jessica Wilde. Those fictions are about their needs and their perceptions. Frankly, I’m fine with them using Jessica as a foil. But telling the truth, capturing the real story of a real woman, became an itch I badly needed to scratch.
Partly, it was the fundamental desire to feel “known.” For so much of my life I’ve been alone and understood that nobody really knew me. There’s this satisfaction when you get deeper into a relationship and the other person discovers layer after layer about you, right down to your deepest corners. I wanted to immortalize that process and that feeling.
Lastly, I wrote this book—as I do everything—for my daughter. I was intent on exploring self-image—what’s healthy and what’s not. My daughter is growing up in a world where online illusions will deeply impact her. I want to give her the tools to navigate that particular environment and come out of it whole.
It’s a lot to ask of one small book, but it was at least worth the honest effort I gave it.
She wasn’t the first or the last person to ask me that question. I get it. A lot of people want their past to be in the past. We move on.
Much as I understand that, I wanted to own my story. When you put yourself out there in the digital world trying to earn a living on social media, so many people create a fiction around who you are. My followers, and lots of other people, project their own perceptions and assumptions onto Jessica Wilde. Those fictions are about their needs and their perceptions. Frankly, I’m fine with them using Jessica as a foil. But telling the truth, capturing the real story of a real woman, became an itch I badly needed to scratch.
Partly, it was the fundamental desire to feel “known.” For so much of my life I’ve been alone and understood that nobody really knew me. There’s this satisfaction when you get deeper into a relationship and the other person discovers layer after layer about you, right down to your deepest corners. I wanted to immortalize that process and that feeling.
Lastly, I wrote this book—as I do everything—for my daughter. I was intent on exploring self-image—what’s healthy and what’s not. My daughter is growing up in a world where online illusions will deeply impact her. I want to give her the tools to navigate that particular environment and come out of it whole.
It’s a lot to ask of one small book, but it was at least worth the honest effort I gave it.
Nothing Great Ever Happens in Your Comfort Zone
I like being comfortable. Anybody who has ever seen one of the million couch shots of me snuggled down with Sophie, should be able to figure that out. But I’m also keenly aware of the value in making myself decidedly uncomfortable, forcing myself to step outside that place where I feel safe and secure. That darkness beyond the border? That’s where people go to grow and evolve.
I discovered this on my very first cover photo shoot. I was already well and truly outside my comfort zone by flying to New York City on my own. Once I got to the photo studio and saw all the lights and cameras, I was flat-out terrified and self-conscious. I felt like I was in over my head, but deep down I knew that if I didn’t push myself through those feelings, I would never achieve what I hoped to accomplish in life.
It wasn’t the most fun I ever had, that first photo shoot, but it was an incredible learning experience and really empowering. Ever since, I’ve forced myself into and through uncomfortable situations to move forward toward my goals.
Along the way, I found a little secret about venturing outside the comfort zone: it can help to not be the “you” you see in the mirror. Sometimes, when I get into a challenging situation that I think I might not be able to handle, I channel my inner Rihanna. I think of her as a cool, badass lioness. I adopt that as an alter ego, and push past any self-doubts. I think we all occasionally find it easier to believe in someone else—even an alter ego—than to believe in ourselves.
I’m a goal-oriented person; as soon as I achieve one goal, I look for the next milestone. That means I’m constantly jumping out of my comfort zone. Pushing myself in that way is the reason for whatever career success I’ve had. I challenge you to test the limits of your own comfort zone—the fear you feel is really just satisfaction waiting to happen.
I discovered this on my very first cover photo shoot. I was already well and truly outside my comfort zone by flying to New York City on my own. Once I got to the photo studio and saw all the lights and cameras, I was flat-out terrified and self-conscious. I felt like I was in over my head, but deep down I knew that if I didn’t push myself through those feelings, I would never achieve what I hoped to accomplish in life.
It wasn’t the most fun I ever had, that first photo shoot, but it was an incredible learning experience and really empowering. Ever since, I’ve forced myself into and through uncomfortable situations to move forward toward my goals.
Along the way, I found a little secret about venturing outside the comfort zone: it can help to not be the “you” you see in the mirror. Sometimes, when I get into a challenging situation that I think I might not be able to handle, I channel my inner Rihanna. I think of her as a cool, badass lioness. I adopt that as an alter ego, and push past any self-doubts. I think we all occasionally find it easier to believe in someone else—even an alter ego—than to believe in ourselves.
I’m a goal-oriented person; as soon as I achieve one goal, I look for the next milestone. That means I’m constantly jumping out of my comfort zone. Pushing myself in that way is the reason for whatever career success I’ve had. I challenge you to test the limits of your own comfort zone—the fear you feel is really just satisfaction waiting to happen.
Stranger in the Mirror
“Imposter Syndrome” is a psychological term used to describe a persistent, deep belief that nothing you do is real, and that you’re at risk of being exposed as a total phony at any moment.
It ain’t fun.
I imagine I’m more susceptible because I work for myself and spend a lot of time alone, so it’s easy to get something in my head and let it build. Also, identity has been a confusing thread throughout my life, which doesn’t help.
Some days it feels like this whole social media thing is a big joke that went way too far, and now it’s my life. The lines between the Tiffany I was, the Jessica I am, and the Jessica I’m creating get blurry. I’m certainly not who I used to be, but I’m definitely not who the Internet thinks I am.
I’ll meet people at events or conventions and my face will hurt from fake smiling so hard because I don’t know what else to do. I get tension headaches, Some days, I wish I was 100 percent Jessica Wilde, but. . . she’s just this “thing” I’ve created. She’s a project. She’s confident, witty, sarcastic, and always beautiful. She’s motivated and never doubts herself. She is a badass bitch.
I, on the other hand, am trying really hard not to eat an oversized cookie right now, and I just want somebody to love me for who I am.
I’ve had women message me on Instagram, and tell me they wish they were Jessica. I can relate; I wish I were her, too.
It ain’t fun.
I imagine I’m more susceptible because I work for myself and spend a lot of time alone, so it’s easy to get something in my head and let it build. Also, identity has been a confusing thread throughout my life, which doesn’t help.
Some days it feels like this whole social media thing is a big joke that went way too far, and now it’s my life. The lines between the Tiffany I was, the Jessica I am, and the Jessica I’m creating get blurry. I’m certainly not who I used to be, but I’m definitely not who the Internet thinks I am.
I’ll meet people at events or conventions and my face will hurt from fake smiling so hard because I don’t know what else to do. I get tension headaches, Some days, I wish I was 100 percent Jessica Wilde, but. . . she’s just this “thing” I’ve created. She’s a project. She’s confident, witty, sarcastic, and always beautiful. She’s motivated and never doubts herself. She is a badass bitch.
I, on the other hand, am trying really hard not to eat an oversized cookie right now, and I just want somebody to love me for who I am.
I’ve had women message me on Instagram, and tell me they wish they were Jessica. I can relate; I wish I were her, too.
My View of Reviews
One of the most interesting parts of writing my book has been reading the reviews. It would be one thing if my book was Playing the Social Media Game for Fame and Profit (hey, new book idea!), but my book is actually my life. That means any reviews of Going Wilde are even more personal than they might otherwise have been.
That’s why it’s kind of scary and daunting to read reviews. Even the good ones. I put everything I had into this book. I made a deal with myself that I would not hold back. That makes me a little vulnerable to the feedback.
Reading good reviews makes me feel so happy and proud to share my story with complete strangers. Reality being reality, though, not all the reviews are good. I’ve learned that bad reviews are part of the game. I’ve figured out that I can’t internalize those, and that people who paid the money and read the book have a right to their opinions.
The only real downers are the reviews that praise the book and then give it three stars. Or those that totally miss the points I’m making or misconstrue what I’m saying. I tried so hard to be objective and tell the truth as candidly as I could, that some reviews just frustrate me. The worst are reviewers who think I have a victim mentality and that the book is a “woe is me” tale. I had a pretty tough early life and I’ve been transparent about the role my own poor decisions played in that. But objectively, it was a gritty beginning. Truth be told, the very last thing I want from readers of this book—or anyone, really—is pity.
On the flip side, the positive reviews make me want to sit right down and start writing again. It’s the same surge of dopamine I get from four hundred likes on an Instagram photo. I’m only thirty-three, and I’ve told my story to this point. But who knows? There’s still a lot of life left to live. Maybe I’ll give those reviewers a little more food for thought in the future.
That’s why it’s kind of scary and daunting to read reviews. Even the good ones. I put everything I had into this book. I made a deal with myself that I would not hold back. That makes me a little vulnerable to the feedback.
Reading good reviews makes me feel so happy and proud to share my story with complete strangers. Reality being reality, though, not all the reviews are good. I’ve learned that bad reviews are part of the game. I’ve figured out that I can’t internalize those, and that people who paid the money and read the book have a right to their opinions.
The only real downers are the reviews that praise the book and then give it three stars. Or those that totally miss the points I’m making or misconstrue what I’m saying. I tried so hard to be objective and tell the truth as candidly as I could, that some reviews just frustrate me. The worst are reviewers who think I have a victim mentality and that the book is a “woe is me” tale. I had a pretty tough early life and I’ve been transparent about the role my own poor decisions played in that. But objectively, it was a gritty beginning. Truth be told, the very last thing I want from readers of this book—or anyone, really—is pity.
On the flip side, the positive reviews make me want to sit right down and start writing again. It’s the same surge of dopamine I get from four hundred likes on an Instagram photo. I’m only thirty-three, and I’ve told my story to this point. But who knows? There’s still a lot of life left to live. Maybe I’ll give those reviewers a little more food for thought in the future.
