Naiim and I made it through the holidays and the New Year, though there was no real celebration—no Christmas tree, no gifts—and when his fifteenth birthday came around in mid-January, there just wasn’t enough money to celebrate. Bruce was only handling the basics and using my body up in the process. He was still with his fiancée, who lived in another state and had a personal life of her own. Everyone who witnessed their relationship knew it was a sham, and I picked up the slack, doing all the things a girlfriend or fiancée would: being there for him all hours of the day and night, listening to him gripe, supporting his career moves, staying up late nights watching television, and joking around. Bruce continued to talk about our relationship as if it were so magical and heartwarming and I wondered if he thought he was buying my affections. I fucking hated him for the way he treated me, and the power he exacted because of his ability to help me through one of the roughest periods of my life. I vowed to work even harder and looked forward to the day I would be free of him, just as I’d gotten free from Aeron.
The winter and spring of 2013 was somewhat uneventful. I continued to struggle a bit in the beginning. I entered into an option continuation deal with Fox Television Studios for Confessions and kept myself afloat by self-publishing How to Make Love to a Martian in February. Priced at only $2.99, the project wasn’t something I was trying to get rich from, and I turned down most interview requests about it. I really just wanted to create something that was completely mine, a book that hadn’t been riffled through by editors and influenced by a publishing conglomerate. And I wanted to make a moderate amount of money to hold me until I could find the right book and the right publisher. I wasn’t trying to be greedy. I just wanted to be fair. Besides, I was happy just to have broken through my writer’s block, knowing that, having done so, I could write anything else I wanted as soon as I knew what that should be.
Over the first half of 2013, I did everything I could to support myself and need Bruce less and less until I didn’t need him at all. Between proceeds from Martian, my payments from Fox, and my ever-faithful residual checks, I was able to take care of myself more often than not. By the summer, I was feeling like myself again and started hanging out with friends for the first time in years. I spent most of the summer poolside, eating and drinking and dancing. I was healthy and less stressed and I was coming alive again. Gone were the days of eating disorders, loneliness, and sadness. I was enjoying life with fewer financial woes. I was silly and lighthearted and laughing more than I had in years.
That May, my divorce from Nigel became final after more than a year of confusion, missed filings, and incomplete paperwork. He and I managed to stay in contact while working our way through the blunder-filled proceedings. Eventually, he hired an attorney who, after a few blunders of her own, brought us before a judge for the final stamp of approval. The process couldn’t have been messier if the Three Stooges had handled it, but it was all done that summer and I was finally free!
Taj and I continued to see each other and grew closer, forming a bond that had become unbreakable. I watched him build a company and a brand with such passion that the feeling was infectious. I became obsessed with building a new brand of my own, only just then realizing that having a slew of products didn’t mean I had a brand! I dove into business books and magazines. I paid close attention to the backstories of successful people, brands, and companies, and I thought long and hard about what I wanted for myself. I thought about the mistakes I made in my personal and professional life and found that I could have avoided nearly a decade of heartbreak if, in making any decision, I would have asked myself just one question:
And then what?
I had gone about life never asking myself about the future, never thinking about the consequences before making decisions. If I would have only asked myself And then what?, everything could have been different. So, by the fall of 2013, I was determined to make every decision count and not take one step before asking myself, And then what?
With Taj as a major motivator, I began building my brand, doing so based on the things that interested me and not necessarily based on what interested a portion of my audience. I wanted to build something that would be easy to maintain because it was organic, true to who I am. I wanted to finally show people what my real interests were and what my actual quality of life was. So, I began developing the Karrine & Co. brand and its subsidiaries, planning a long-term strategy and outlook for each company. I spent plenty of nights burning the midnight oil, much the way I saw Taj do when I was with him. I mimicked his drive and was inspired every time I watched him work, or talked with him about his work, and my drive was often influenced by his. I was working harder than I had in years and it felt good.
Still, there was just one thing missing—one very important thing—the perfect book.
With 2014 just months away, it dawned on me that in less than two years, Confessions of a Video Vixen would be ten years old, and I felt as if that book deserved to be commemorated. Confessions had changed my life and afforded me everything I ever dreamed of as a child. It had taken me around the world and launched a career and far-reaching recognition. To this day, I still reap its rewards. Once I realized the tenth year was fast approaching, I knew the next book and deal had to be commemorative. I contacted my representatives, told them the plan, and prepared the proposal for the book you’re reading right now. Within weeks, the new proposal was sent out to tens of agents and I waited anxiously for their replies, fingers crossed.
Many denied it.
A few wanted that fabled list of men.
But there were biters, and for the first time in over four years there were publishing offers on the table and all I had to do was choose.
And I did.
As I slowly began putting the pieces of my life back together, I never forgot the horrible things Bruce and Taj said to me. I never forgot what it felt like to be called a loser and to be told I had to beg because I was at someone else’s mercy. I constantly reminded myself what it felt like to not be in control of my life and instead be at the mercy of men. I kept in mind the decisions I made back in 2007 and how choosing to be with Aeron had cast a dark shadow over my life for all those years. I thought about all I lost and all I gave away, realizing I’d always had the power to change my life but had chosen to relinquish it. I knew I wouldn’t be making that choice again.
In October 2013, I was on the precipice of signing my first book deal in four years and looking forward to the year ahead. My relationship with Wayne was the same as it had always been, with its highs and lows, falling outs and coming togethers, but we were stronger than ever. I was still in love with him after everything. My relationship with Taj was blossoming and we were finally to the point where we could admit we loved each other and wanted to be in each other’s lives for the long haul. I loved him differently than I loved Wayne but just as unconditionally. My relationship with Bruce changed as I gained more independence. I continued to loathe him but wanted to keep him around long enough for him to witness me get back on my feet without him. But the strongest relationships in my life were those with my son, my God, and myself. Together, we made it through one of the most trying times of my life and we were closer than ever.
It was important that my son see his mother pull it together, gather her resources, and make it happen for us again. I wanted him to know that I’m not perfect, that I make mistakes, but that I can also make them right. I wanted him to know that I would not be making the same mistakes twice—not anymore. We were moving forward and were not going to miss out on life, again. So, that October, I signed a new publishing contract and officially started my life over, one more time.
I was happy.
I was elated!
I was walking on fucking air!
I was having more meaningful relationships, I was stabilizing financially, I was looking and feeling better than I had in years, and I just signed a lucrative deal that was sure to put me back on my feet for the long run. I was able to pay back family and friends who sent me money during my hard times and I was able to continue avoiding Bruce’s sexual advances. It was the happiest I’d been since 2007. I was glowing, and apparently giving off a radiance that could be felt for miles because, in mid-December, Aeron came lurking—no doubt having seen a blip of my joy on his seek-and-destroy radar.