I left the studio, made a few calls, and packed only the essentials that Maddie and I needed. I was normally so organized and efficient, but my lack of focus now was just another symptom of a much bigger problem. Tickets were coordinated. We were on our way to the airport and headed for the comfort of family, friends, and familiarity. Instinctively, I knew the support and peace of home would provide the relief I so desperately needed. My momma would be there to help with Maddie and give me the time I needed to recuperate from the angst and agitated state I was in.
On the plane ride home, I had a chance to collect my frantic thoughts and try to make sense of where everything went wrong. Perhaps it was a result of my upbringing or my experiences in the entertainment industry. The slide into disillusionment started with my trepidation about changing so many aspects of my performing. I went to Nashville with a concept and had felt really good about where I was headed. My songwriting allowed me to connect to my innermost thoughts and reveal myself in a completely new manner. I was naked and exposed—free to be me. But when people started to layer me with production, presentation, and style changes, it just felt wrong. Their concept contradicted every notion I had of myself. None of that was good for my mental health. I craved control and needed to chart my own course.
One of my first instincts was to call Jamie. We’d spent the past few months talking frequently and I knew in my heart he was going to be there for me. He has always been a source of comfort for me. When Jamie picked up the phone, he could tell instantly that something was off. Jamie was amazing to me; he brought humor and levity to the heaviness of my situation, by saying things like, “Jamie Lynn, yeah, you’re nuts—but all the good ones are. And you know what? That’s okay.” He never made me feel awkward and his understanding made me feel normal.
I stayed at Momma’s while I was back home. Within a few days, I knew I needed professional help. I was no stranger to anxiety and panic, but my previously mastered coping mechanisms weren’t working. Unlike the Nashville counseling sessions, I knew I was going to have to be invested in the process if I was going to get through this. In all honesty, with other doctors I basically told them what I thought they wanted to hear. In the past, a counselor would ask questions and validate my perfunctory responses. I wasn’t willing to dig deep and reveal the demons that denied me my happiness. For years I believed I was managing, and I was still in the cycle of pretending everything was fine. But I was scared by what happened in Nashville and spooked by some of my sister’s behaviors. I didn’t want to slide into a place I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of. I sought out a professional I had confidence in to provide guidance and insight. I chose a new psychologist in Louisiana, who I felt comfortable sharing painful and personal details of my life with that I had never expressed before. This time felt different with my family and Jamie to support me. I was finally ready to open up and get to the root of my difficulties. I was officially diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and obsessive-compulsive disorder. Up to that point, I managed well enough. But then, the culmination of everything—pregnancy, public humiliation, stress, failed relationship, et cetera—was too much for me to handle. It took a lot for me to keep it all together. I committed myself to regular sessions and I quickly felt the positive effects of being home and quality therapy. I was on the right track. My hope was to spend a couple of weeks recuperating and return to Nashville, refreshed and ready to record. Then life threw me a curveball in the form of a broken bone.
One thing about Momma’s house that made me crazy was the lack of a good Wi-Fi signal. One day I had some emails to follow up on and knew the only way I was going to get a decent signal was to go outside to the second-floor balcony that was just off the bedroom. I went out the door, and by the time I remembered the door automatically locked when closed, it was too late. You can ask anyone who’s lived in that house about that balcony door. At first, I wasn’t concerned because the balcony had a glass wall that overlooked the living room, where I knew Momma and Maddie were playing. By the time I finished handling my business, I peered through the glass and found the living room empty. Impulsively, I decided to climb over the balustrade to a lower wall and leap down. Well, the physics of my plan failed, and I jumped twenty feet and fractured the bone in my heel. That fracture changed the course of my life.
After I had gone to the ER and had gotten X-rays, the doctor prescribed a boot for my broken heel, and I was laid up for several weeks. Of course, this limited my mobility and driving habits. Momma was exceedingly helpful with Maddie. I was forced to take it easy for a while, and except for going to my therapy appointments and the occasional outing, I spent most of my time healing from my injury. My days were spent on the couch, and Jamie devoted all his free time to me. Other than my daughter, being with him was the only thing that felt good. He was a curative. Jamie would bring me food and, even better, conversation. We spent that time really getting to know each other on a deeper level. I finally let him in, to truly know me. He was sincere when he said that was all he ever wanted. Most days he would bring movies. Jamie introduced me to iconic and classic films. He insisted that we watch all of The Godfather movies. He would start the movie and within a few minutes we’d be deep in conversation. Something would spark a topic, and soon the movie was forgotten. There was the occasional nap too. To this day, I have yet to see them in their entirety. Jamie ensured that I laughed often and didn’t take my struggles so seriously. He even drove me to my doctor’s appointments and took Maddie for ice cream to keep her occupied. It was strange that he’d keep Maddie preoccupied with treats while I was trying to keep my world from collapsing. He and I were in the beginning stages of exploring who we were to each other, and his willingness to walk that road with me and Maddie felt surprisingly profound.
My therapy appointments were crucial to helping me move into a healthier period of my life. Connecting with the right therapist made all the difference. My psychologist suggested I try medication to ease my symptoms while we worked through the root of my challenges. The meds did more harm than good—they made me exhausted and apathetic, and functioning day to day became laborious. At times I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed. Per my doctor’s recommendation, I remained on medication for months, and much to my dismay, it failed to remedy my issues and made others worse. Talking about the anxiety was the most beneficial, and pharmacological support, while effective for many, didn’t work for me. Talking freely about my anxiety eased my way to communicate my needs and wants. I was just discovering how freeing it was to share my truth and my burdens. Acknowledging I wasn’t happy with my professional circumstances was the first step to making radical changes in my life. Sharing my thoughts with Jamie further validated the concepts I had for my career.
Our feelings for each other grew over time, and Jamie’s genuine concern and support of my well-being was the catalyst that expanded my love for him. His unconditional love for me—just Jamie Lynn, not the performer or the celebrity—healed a part of me that medicine or therapy couldn’t. He helped me understand that just being me was enough. I took that lesson and allowed it to permeate every aspect of my life. I started to think about how I wanted to live and what would make me happy. The instant connection between Jamie and Maddie grew stronger the more time we all spent together. Jamie was devoted to both of us. I think I fell more in love with him because of his love for Maddie. He said that the kind of mother I was made him love me more. Although our relationship wasn’t love at first sight, I think it may have been fatherhood at first view.
Jamie jokes that when we first met, he had no idea who I was. Obviously, he recognized my last name, but knew nothing else. I took comfort in that. Jamie is ten years older than me, so it would have been weird if he were watching Zoey 101 or followed my career. Jamie coming into our lives felt serendipitous. He understood my artist’s nature and supported my career. He recently told me that the first time he saw me, he thought I was the most beautiful girl he had seen and had immediately wondered, “Why would she ever want to be with me?”
After several weeks at home, I decided to go back to Nashville and proceed to make music the way that felt authentic to me. We stayed together and managed the distance with weekend visits and lots of phone calls. But after a while that didn’t feel like enough for any of us. I had become we. We wanted a more stable life for Maddie where she could be surrounded by family and build lasting friendships. Jamie and I wanted to be in the same city and give our relationship the attention it needed to thrive. Louisiana was calling me home. But first, I had work to do.
The period of self-discovery I spent in Tennessee culminated with me taking back my power and doing things on my own terms. I returned to Nashville and let the bulk of the production team go. We all knew it wasn’t working. Everyone agreed I had the talent, and I was determined to use that talent in the most authentic way possible. The therapeutic process gave me further insight into how I could thrive in the industry. I needed to participate in the decision-making process and have control over my career’s direction. Only with that control would I be able to have the career I craved. I’d spent years being shaped, directed, molded, and controlled. I’d had to do what management and my parents wanted. If it wasn’t my own team calling the shots, then the studio did. Now that I was no longer a child star, I was shutting down when others tried to take control of my life. NO MORE, I decided. For the first time, I was ready to take ownership of my material and brand.
I picked up the phone and spoke in length to Liz Rose, whose musical insight surpassed everyone I knew at the time. But my appreciation for Liz goes beyond the professional. Liz served as a mentor and protected me from others, but mostly from self-doubt. She intervened when sessions didn’t feel right. With her impressive résumé, it was easier for Liz to offer suggestions or changes. She had complete faith in my writing and performing talent and encouraged me to continue creating the format for bringing my music to the world. Shopping my music to labels led me down the wrong path—the one that undermined my autonomy. Liz and the profoundly talented producer and writer Corey Crowder laid the groundwork for my musical journey. On several occasions we discussed where I saw myself in the country music world and what would be the best way to bring my music to the people. They provided a full education on the different ways music could be released. The industry was still reeling from the introduction of music streaming services. Artists were using the internet to build audiences, and streaming services provided a new platform to showcase their music. Like authors self-publishing books, musicians now had alternative ways of releasing music. I had faith both Corey and Liz could provide the insight and expertise needed to create my album in a manner different from the ones big companies offered. Liz was living in Dallas and suggested I come there for a writing retreat. Writer Lisa Carver, whose songs have been performed by greats like Tim McGraw, Reba McEntire, and Sugarland, completed our writing circle. We spent days closed up talking, sharing stories, and creating most of the music for my 2014 EP.
We wrote and established a plan. I spent months developing a song that encapsulated what Jamie and I had experienced on the road to love. We hit some bumps along the way. After everything I had to overcome to open myself up to love, fear, shame, self-doubt, and trust, the song I wrote explained my journey in a way I hadn’t been able to express before. Early on, I released my single “How Could I Want More,” about being with someone who seems perfect for you, yet struggling with the inner turmoil that maybe there is something more. The last line in the song was originally “He ought to be the right guy.” By the time I recorded the song for my EP in 2014, Jamie and I were engaged. And that last line was aptly changed to “I know he is the right guy.”
Simultaneously, Jamie was working on a plan too. With covert help from Momma and my friends, Jamie set out to propose. He planned an elaborate day for the three of us to share. He told us to be ready around ten in the morning. Maddie and I dressed for a fun day with Jamie. I thought we were headed to IMAX to see a movie, but within minutes I saw we were headed in a different direction. Jamie knows how much I love Louisiana history and architecture, and he drove us out to one of my favorite spots. We visited Oak Alley and spent hours discovering the beauty of the structure, landscape, and stories of the area. The canopy of oak trees that make the property truly spectacular set the tone for a magical day. The massive trees provided shade and protection from the March sun. Jamie and I read about the landmark’s history as we shared secret smiles and silent conversations. I sensed that something about the day was different, special even. Maddie simply enjoyed spending the day with us, holding our hands or running ahead on the vast grounds. After we finished our visit, Jamie insisted we drive to New Orleans and take a walk along the river. I almost balked, tired from the hours at Oak Alley. But he seemed so eager to go, so I couldn’t refuse. He parked the car and the three of us strolled along the Riverwalk. We didn’t talk much as we walked. Maddie was distracted by the people all around. Before I knew what was happening, he dropped to one knee. I was thinking, Uh, what is he doing? Without any preamble, he pulled out a ring and asked, “Will you marry me?” And then he pulled out another ring and asked Maddie, “Will you let me marry you and your momma?” She said, “Yeah!” and I did too. He slipped the ring on my finger, and Maddie’s was a little big. We took some time to ourselves to enjoy the moment. Jamie had a photographer there to capture everything. Just when my shock was subsiding, he started to pull us along, saying something like, “Come on, we’ve gotta go. Everyone’s waiting.” Again, I was thinking, What? “Waiting for what?” I asked. Jamie had arranged for the important people in our lives to meet at our friend’s apartment just a few blocks away. When we walked in, all of our family and close friends were there to celebrate and toast with champagne in our honor. But there was more. Momma was going to take Maddie home with her, and Jamie and I were headed out with friends for dinner and drinks. Jamie, knowing I’d been out all day, had Kayla come with a whole new outfit and stuff for hair and makeup. It was a wonderful night. Jamie planned every detail and, as I hoped, the day was truly magical.
We fell in love—Maddie, Jamie, and me. The love we share is rooted in mutual respect and appreciation for one another. We have a raw honesty that keeps us safe and leaves no room for doubts or insecurities. Together we are grounded, and I finally have the security I had been searching for after years of bouncing between my identities as a celebrity, a Southern girl, and a mom. There are times when anxiety will undermine my progress. Just weeks into our engagement, I told Jamie I was uneasy and wanted to postpone. He simply rolled his eyes and said, “I am not calling everyone to tell them that!” What he did was listen and help me reason through my fear. He was so secure in our relationship, he easily reassured me.
Until this point, I had never known true happiness. I am neither naive nor stupid. My professional life has been full of success and accolades. Those accomplishments brought me satisfaction and pleasure. But unadulterated happiness is a recent phenomenon for me. As I reflect on my past, the professional one full of money and fame, I’ve realized that none of that yielded the happiness I came to know once I had the confidence to make intelligent choices based upon my intuition and joy. After Maddie, I finally felt free to address my own needs—not for my extended family, team, or career. Releasing my music independently was a huge coup. Moving home felt as natural as breathing. Returning to Louisiana and building a life I truly enjoyed became my focus. Jamie, Maddie, and I began being a family. I felt comfortable working remotely, since I’d done so in the past, and I also felt confident in managing both the personal and professional aspects of my life.
The year 2014 was a big one for me. After years of trial and error, of learning, observing, and writing, I released my EP, The Journey. I felt a strong sense of accomplishment and was proud of the music I was sharing with the world. It’s a deeply personal album where each song embodies pieces of me—my experiences and emotions infused with a soulful country sound. It’s the soundtrack of my young adult life. For the first time, this music was a mirrored reflection of me, not the characters I portrayed. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. In support of the album, I needed to get on the road to perform, which included an intensive radio tour. The music business is tricky; it’s not like television and movies. You’ve got to get in front of the right people—the program directors for radio stations. Usually, these PDs have a predetermined list of performers provided by executives who have agreements with large labels to play their artists. There’s big money in music. It’s typically why you hear the same thirty songs on a modern pop or country music station. But by getting out in front of audiences and meeting program directors all over the US, independent artists have a chance to build a following that helps gain the attention of radio executives. Appearing on radio shows and speaking with influential DJs can also bolster a band’s popularity.
So, in March 2014, after setting off on an extensive tour, I took an extended weekend break to get married. Almost a year had passed since Jamie proposed marriage. With the impending release of my album and the travel that would be required in support of the music, Jamie and I decided we should marry prior to the tour. It was only fitting that Maddie participate as what we referred to as a mini bride. The ceremony took place on a beautiful spring day at the Audubon Tea Room and Sea Lion Colonnade. It was a beautiful affair made more special by having only our nieces and nephews serve as the wedding party. The adults sat with the invited guests as we made our vows. The reception was a scene infused with love and laughter. At one point, when we were exchanging our vows, some photographers sneaked in and tried to take pictures of our intimate moment. Security guards made quick work of tackling them to the ground and escorting them out. Jamie and I didn’t even realize it happened until friends shared the details later in the evening.
Within hours of saying “We do,” I was packing and hitting the road with my band. Jamie stayed behind to manage his own businesses and to help take care of Maddie. As much as possible, I would return home, or they would come to wherever I was for the weekend. From the moment Maddie was born, she had become my whole world. Nothing and nobody came before her. My own childhood experiences of being obligated to travel, the instability, and at times being left behind were still fresh. I never wanted Maddie to feel she was being cast aside or sidelined for my career. Jamie and I worked together, reassuring Maddie she would remain our number-one priority. She may have only been six at the time, but she was smart and aware of the changes resurrecting my career would bring. She had such faith in me. Maddie’s youthful enthusiasm was potent and a motivating factor in my decision to do the radio tour. The strong bond between Jamie and Maddie assuaged my own doubts about leaving. I knew our extended family throughout Louisiana would be there for them should they need anything.
Road life was difficult. I missed my family and the constancy of home. There wasn’t a place to cook or eat healthy foods. It was a junk food free-for-all. I preferred my early pregnancy meals of Wheat Thins with cream cheese and pepper jelly to the saturated fat and mystery ingredients of fast food. Just like filming, being on the road limits your freedom and space. I spent a lot of time sitting around in preparation for the next interview or show. I was passionate about the music and there is nothing like getting in front of a live audience—feeling their energy and receiving an immediate reaction. It was even more thrilling when people would shout out, “Hey, Zoey!” or “We love you, Jamie Lynn!” The silence that comes just moments before I begin, where the crowd settles down and prepares for me to sing, is like no other. The world stops and everyone is poised just waiting for me to start. It’s heady stuff. And yet, the adoration of thousands of fans pales to the genuine love and respect that waited for me at home. I learned how fickle fans can be, and I recognized that nothing could fill my soul the way my daughter and husband did on a daily basis. Jamie and Maddie were supportive of my work and understood I had to promote my music and fulfill my dream. Jamie respected my professional goals and appreciated that I had reached this juncture on my terms. I needed to see it through. The time I spent traveling challenged my vision of my life and my priorities. Maddie and Jamie were just fine without me, and I managed without them. But “fine” and “manage” aren’t fulfilling. We were a newlywed family, and I was excited to return home and be together. After the tour, I continued to promote my music, but stayed close to home as much as possible. I discovered that’s where we thrived. In the years since my EP was released, I have had amazing opportunities to perform at different venues. I’ve performed at both the Ryman Auditorium and the Grand Ole Opry. My experiences there, singing on those stages, fulfilled a long-awaited dream. One particular night, I had just come off stage, where my dad was watching. We were smiling and enjoying the moment when all of a sudden a legend of country music came over to us. I looked up, smiling so wide it almost felt painful. I’m sure it looked that way. The man said, “Hi, Jamie Lynn. You were great out there.” I think I muttered a thank-you. We took a quick picture together. As Garth walked away to take the stage, I was vibrating with excitement. We made our way to the exit and I grabbed Daddy’s arm. “Oh my God, Daddy, Garth Brooks.” By the time the exit door closed on us, we realized in vain that we’d missed an opportunity to watch him perform from the stage. Later I sent Maddie the picture we took with Garth Brooks and, being a huge fan of the Food Network, she asked, “Momma, isn’t that Trisha Yearwood’s husband? Did you get a picture of her too?”
This was about when Maddie started asking about me having a baby. I knew Jamie was on board for expanding our family, but I just wanted to take care of business and get my career moving in the right direction first. I told Maddie, “Just give me a little time, Maddie.” Fortunately, Jamie continued to support me and never made me feel bad for wanting to wait just a little bit longer before adding another member to the family.