The glitz of Hollywood isn’t all it appears to be. Being a childhood performer is akin to being a student athlete; there is always a sacrifice, a part of yourself you give away to accomplish the goal. Make no mistake, I wanted to be an actress and entertainer. From the time I was a little girl, I loved performing characters and delighted in the response I received from entertaining anyone who would watch. My parents weren’t the impetus behind my fame, but they insisted that if I wanted to act, I would put my all into developing my talent. I had exposure to the people in power in the industry because my big sister was a pop icon and cameras were always around. But just because a production assistant may have caught a glimpse of my potential doesn’t mean I didn’t work tirelessly to be the best at what I did on-screen.
As a young girl starting out in Hollywood, I had no concept of the universe I was entering—and I believe many of my contemporaries would say the same thing. The entertainment community and its executives operate by a completely different set of rules. It was, and still continues to be, a primarily male-dominated hierarchy that has the power to make or break any career.
Getting a job on television is one of the most exciting moments in anyone’s life. Without question it is rare—like winning the Powerball lottery. But so many people don’t realize the devotion, time, and sacrifice it takes to achieve such a goal. I started performing when I learned to speak. Once my parents recognized I actually had talent, they made sure I worked to improve my abilities. I took voice and dance lessons forty-five minutes away in Baton Rouge. I took headshots and went on tons of auditions. I tried out for and performed in local plays and musicals. It was the same for my siblings, whether it was sports or the arts. I think there is a huge misconception that if you are born with talent, you’re guaranteed to find success and fame. I can assure you that all the young women who came up with me during the nineties committed themselves 100 percent to developing their careers.
But achieving the dream means sacrificing autonomy. I can only speak for myself; everyone’s road to success may be different, but so many stops along the way are the same. As a child, I dreamed of performing and bringing characters to life. Once I was old enough to understand that I could be on television and make money, I was like, “Sign me up.” But at the age of eight, it didn’t occur to me that I would have to give up anything. I didn’t have the maturity or foresight to know what I would have to forfeit in advancing my career. Later I would realize that I was forced to surrender control and my individuality. Immediately upon entering the entertainment world, my life ceased to be my own. I didn’t know it at first because I was so caught up in the excitement of living my dream. And to be completely honest, throughout the time I worked, I was insulated from most of the manipulations imposed upon actresses. By the time I signed for Zoey 101, there were all kinds of dos and don’ts. Contracts include clauses that make a bunch of demands, and stipulations are usually woven into every contract. The agreements can differ from project to person. It’s not quite as invasive as it was fifty years ago when studios would make you date a costar for the publicity. These days it is mostly related to appearances, promotion, and flow of information. Agreements can include things like: don’t change your appearance; avoid negative press; and termination clauses for various types of infractions. As a child raised with a firm hand, I was accustomed to rules. I didn’t have the freedom of time or an opportunity to do what I wanted, when I wanted. I wasn’t really interested in the Hollywood lifestyle. Perhaps the consequences of Britney’s difficulties with the media had something to do with it, or maybe it was that I’d started dating Casper by then. Influencing behavior is only a small example of the clout imposed by power players. But frankly it’s the intimidation and the lack of control that renders you powerless. There is a lot of “If you do this… then,” or “If you don’t like it, we’ve got someone else.”
Professionalism comes before everything else, and I made sure to maintain that level of commitment. That constancy can be oppressive at times. The only reason why the public hears about the difficulties on a set or “tantrums” by performers is because at some point, the pressure of life becomes too much to manage. For women, it is so much worse than for our male counterparts. When the media reports an actor having a fit on set, they usually attribute it to someone else or say that the situation warranted the reaction. The reported list of male outbursts far exceeds the list of outbursts by women. And yet, when an actress reacts badly in any scenario, she’s usually labeled a diva or unstable. The imbalance between the sexes was around way before me, and despite the efforts to right the wrongs, it still exists.
The inequity encompasses so much more than media coverage. There has always been an inherent pressure, especially for girls in the industry, to maintain their physical appearance—whether for a role, contract, or just plain vanity. As a young teen, I was fortunate I never struggled with maintaining a healthy weight, but the burden to be skinny was always there. Studios don’t really want healthy and happy people; they want thin and productive ones. I was encouraged to have a trainer who didn’t really educate me on the proper forms of weight management. I had others who taught me about workouts and cleanses to stay thin. I did lots of cardio and limited my caloric intake—the typical routine for those who don’t know better. There were periods where I’d basically starve myself. At the 2007 Kids’ Choice Awards everyone around me commented on how great I looked. My own team noticed my slim form and said, “Jamie Lynn, you’ve never looked better!” They gushed about my beauty and slimness. The compliments continued as I walked the “orange” carpet. People always combined the comment about my beauty with a comment about my tiny size. From as early as I can remember, the importance of looking good and being fit were ingrained in me. My parents have always been vain and believed we needed to look the part by maintaining a healthy physique. Although I never struggled with my size, I did experience periods of self-doubt, no different than most girls. But in that orange-carpet moment, with all of the cameras focused on me, I was confronted with my insecurities. The battle between loving the way I felt and the concern that I had been too big all along was raging. Executives said things like “healthy lifestyle,” which in their world meant something completely different than it did in mine.
Puberty added to the pressure I experienced. When you are going through puberty, the body transforms in complex ways. Hormones are released and bones expand, creating changes both inside and out. But the studios still want you to look exactly the same. There is enormous pressure to alter your appearance—to move closer to perfect, symmetrical, and beautiful. During my teen years on Nickelodeon, I never had any procedures or injectables. After I gave birth to Maddie, I spent months breastfeeding. She particularly enjoyed nursing on the left side, and much to my chagrin, I ended up being lopsided. My distorted breasts needed a lift; a decision made by me, for me. The doctor suggested a small implant to give me the symmetry I was looking for. To this day, I don’t like the result of the procedures and what remains of my breast tissue after breastfeeding my daughters. At some point, I may have another surgery to address my concerns. I still have insecurities about my body, but the decision to fix or improve oneself through any means is different from the pressure to embark on a complete makeover to fit someone else’s ideals. Even when you can achieve transformation, it’s nearly impossible to maintain. But the dictates of the entertainment executives have rendered many young women, both in and out of the industry, susceptible to all kinds of physical and emotional disorders. The best example of this is still Judy Garland as Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. By the time they were ready to shoot, her chest had grown two full sizes and needed to be painfully taped down. The studio required her to go through all kinds of diets and medication to remain youthful and slim. She suffered for years afterward. Audiences are fooled into thinking that a look or size can be maintained easily. This concept came full circle when Renée Zellweger portrayed Judy Garland in the biopic Judy. She was on a strict diet for months and actually had to be sewn into most of her costumes. Many women in and out of the entertainment industry suffer from lack of self-esteem and the unattainable beauty standards.
The power over the aesthetic can undermine a young woman’s confidence, affecting career decisions and choosing what projects will best serve their long-term goals. I have seen this multiple times in my career. I have encountered brilliant professionals who had a vision that simply didn’t jive with the way I saw myself. Sometimes it’s as simple as a wardrobe decision or changing an arrangement on a song. I spent years placating others and doing what was asked of me professionally because I didn’t feel like I had any choice. It took years for me to rediscover my power and the confidence to know that I was good enough to chart my own course.
The responsibility that comes with success and fame can be overwhelming. For me, I felt the pressure to keep a show at the height of popularity to ensure everyone had a job and got paid. I have always kept my own support team small. But the bigger the star shines, the larger the team supporting their efforts becomes. An expansive team runs the risk of employing scammers and opportunists. With so many people involved in day-to-day operations—image, finances, and care—it’s nearly impossible to know who to trust. As my sister’s career exploded, professionals came in and out of her life in rapid succession. Many genuinely cared for Britney’s well-being and protected her interests. But she also became a target for unsavory and duplicitous people. I believe that Britney’s experiences with people who only wanted to use her tore away at her ability to trust others and left her vulnerable. In the midst of all this, she’d had her heart broken more than once and become a mom. And even while she retained her iconic pop-star status, the cracks from earlier disappointments became fissures. Britney didn’t reach out for help dealing with the issues she was facing, and it seemed that almost everyone on the team was more interested in keeping the money coming in than in getting her the help she needed.
I’m assuming that this, among other things, was what led to the conservatorship that was established in 2008. Lawyers and third-party entities were taking advantage of Britney’s success at a time when she was suffering with what appeared to be some emotional issues. My sister didn’t seem well, and those closest to her at the time, especially my parents, believed the conservatorship was the best way to protect her and the fortune she had amassed throughout her career. I think their only intent was to keep her safe at a time when she couldn’t do that for herself. My father, Jamie, who wasn’t a stranger to difficulties, worked with lawyers and the court to develop a trust that would serve Britney’s interests. In 2008, I was sixteen years old and getting ready to deliver my first child. I knew things were difficult for Britney, but I was wrapped up in my own life. At the time, I supported her by remaining loyal to her, by listening to her and protecting her in whatever manner I could. As a daughter, I conducted myself as any well-intentioned person does. I remember what it was like to stand in opposition to my parents. In this scenario, I was simply a sister and a daughter.
Many would say my teenage pregnancy destroyed my career trajectory. They couldn’t be more wrong. I believe Maddie saved me from years of potential misery. By the time I was sixteen, my siblings had already revealed the more toxic side of fame. The list of young actresses and actors who have suffered with addiction, depression, and anxiety is extensive. I suffered with anxiety and didn’t realize how affected I was throughout my young life. I’m not a doctor, and don’t claim to have knowledge beyond my experience. Perhaps some people are predisposed to emotional issues that are brought on by the pressures of Hollywood. Maybe imposing unrelenting demands on teenage performers who are in the midst of complicated developmental periods places them even more at risk. I don’t know. I do feel that too much fame and fortune, coupled with the pressure, can lead to negative coping mechanisms that can cause irreparable damage.
My pregnancy removed me from that world at a time when I was the most susceptible to negative exposure. I escaped the added pressure from my partying peers and taking on projects that didn’t feel right for me. During the summer of 2007, I was an emotional wreck. I felt powerless to the momentum of my career. Who knows what may have happened if I remained in that environment? In all honesty, the pressure and emotional volatility of being a teenager made me vulnerable. Oddly enough, Maddie brought an added sense of stability. I was forced to take responsibility for both her and me, and that changed the direction of my life and focus. Maddie became my world and being her momma made all the difference.