My views about the way I live my life today are the same as when I played Zoey. As a young performer, the girl who fulfilled a dream and became a star, I grabbed and maximized every opportunity that came my way. The teenage me envisioned a future that included acting and singing. When I closed my eyes and pictured my future, visions of the performer I wanted to become appeared. Realizing any dream requires the willingness to suffer, learn, and endure painful experiences that ultimately change a person in fundamental ways; or so that’s what I’ve been told. For me, taking my journey from child star to teen mom, to adult performer and wife, has brought me full circle to what fundamentally makes me happy.
Early on, I made a promise to myself: I will do everything in my power to create a stable and happy environment for my family. The needs of my children will always preempt my own until they are capable of doing that for themselves. Years before I became a mother, Daddy’s lengthy drinking and the realization of the utter pain and shame I’d experienced in my childhood, coupled with Momma’s incessant need to convince the world that everything was fine, became the impetus for that pledge to myself. Becoming Maddie’s mother reinforced that truth. I never fathomed anyone or anything would derail me from keeping that promise. If I’m anything, I’m strong and resolute about commitments to myself and others. Then, how did I get so far off course for a while there?
The decision to have Maddie and the decision to try to build a life with Casper were both instinctive and logical. My intuition has always been a powerful force for me. Once I discovered I was pregnant, there wasn’t a moment where I genuinely considered not having her. Everyone else had their doubts. For me and my teenage heart, she was a gift. In the beginning, I truly believed Casper and I would mend our hurts to create a family. Love, especially young love, is a powerful force that blinded me to not just logic, but my gut instincts too. The mistake I made over and over again in Maddie’s first few years by allowing Casper’s behaviors—so similar to my father’s—to go unchecked left me utterly disgusted with myself. It took years for me to work through those feelings and only strengthened my resolve to prevent that type of abusive behavior from affecting my children in the future.
The promise to them starts with me. I learned how to take care of myself. Workouts, which historically were designed to keep me lean and fit, loaded with cardio, were replaced with a more dynamic approach to fitness incorporating strength of body and mind. My trainer-turned-friend Julie Day taught me to look at food, my body, and my spirituality in a more holistic manner. This helped me have a healthy relationship with my own mind and body. But like everyone else, when the alarm goes off in the morning, I lie still, staring up at the ceiling, and wonder, What if I didn’t go today? At first, staying curled up in my bed is tempting. Then I think about the fallout of not taking care of my needs. My fitness routine fortifies my body, but more, it helps me manage my stressors and emotions. I’ve also made a vow to talk through my anxiety and fears. It’s my form of therapy. And I pray, a lot. These practices are only part of how I preserve this commitment. The other piece is more complicated. I had to relearn how to trust my judgment. The relationship I had with Casper was inundated with the same codependent behaviors that my parents exhibited as a result of my daddy’s issues. Fear and negativity kept Casper in my life for much too long. For a while, my childhood experiences infused my relationship, and I almost started to believe I was doomed to repeat the mistakes of my parents. That’s one part of my Louisiana life I had no interest in retaining.
My career and the resulting emotional journey, which took me far from Louisiana to California and beyond, led me back to my roots. The experiences that were so vital to learning what works for me reinforced how much I adore the simplicity and quiet of a Louisiana lifestyle.
I knew early in my career that I had very little interest in living in LA. I never took to the vibe or the fast-paced energy of the city. Don’t get me wrong, I can keep up, but the vapid nature of Hollywood never felt like home to me. I love working there, and I appreciate the passion industry professionals put into everything they do. Watching a project come together is, quite frankly, amazing. A myriad of things happens between a script being optioned to appearing on the screen. I’m invigorated by taking part in the process of creating characters and bringing stories to the world.
Whether for the small screen or a major motion picture, in Hollywood or on location, I dedicate myself 100 percent to my job and become immersed wherever I’m temporarily living. I explore each place and try to make it mine while I’m living there. I get out and run to get a feel for the landscape and discover places I’d like to visit. I typically move about unrecognized thanks to my tendency to dress down. Much of the time I’m with my daughters, so caught up in them, I don’t bother to think about being seen. One of the ways I manage long shoots is by having my family with me as much as possible. Our girls travel with me or visit on weekends. I make frequent trips home too. Maddie has a full schedule. I respect her time and appreciate whenever she can join me on location. Their support is invaluable and keeps me balanced when I’m far from home. The transient nature of being an actor can leave me feeling untethered and disconnected. I’ve learned that having the people I love around me nurtures me and allows me to be a mother, wife, and performer.
My profession lets me have new experiences—from taking on characters to spending time in various locations—but, when it’s done, I return home to Louisiana. Home is both the place I love and the family around me. It’s where I abandon my persona, cast aside my characters, and ground myself in the stability of the life I’ve built. When I return to Hammond, I cling to the ease and predictability of the everyday. It’s where I become Jamie Lynn, wife and mother. Both sides of my life are equally challenging, but my family keeps me incredibly humble and rooted in a way performing simply cannot.
As an adult, I’ve realized that my Louisiana ways, the things I love most about life in the South, are within me. Momma and Daddy instilled in me a set of Southern values that are ingrained into who I’ve become as an adult. The South gives me a sense of warmth that’s different from people from other parts of the country. It’s not better or worse, just mine. I was raised to respect and give deference to my elders—you earn respect by giving it. Manners are important. In my career, I did everything I could not to abandon my moral compass. Despite the mistakes along the way, I owned up to each one and tried to move in the right direction. In the entertainment world it can be easy to get off course, especially if you lose your integrity. The more famous you become, the easier it is to lose those parts of yourself. For me, I try my best to nurture my strong moral code, embrace faith, and surround myself with like-minded people. Living in Louisiana helps to reinforce these principles for me.
Everyone carries a piece of where they come from. I certainly do. The work I do varies in scope and size. For something as small as an interview, I am determined to convey my thoughts and responses in a manner that reflects the essence of who I am. At this point, I’ve become comfortable being me and I want that to show. It’s taken me years and a few missteps to get to this point and to regain my confidence. I’ve made mistakes and paid for them. Sometimes I’d start a project and realize it’s no good; I paid for those with more than money. Other times someone else makes the mistakes and they pay. I’ve turned down lots of jobs that were lucrative and may have propelled my career. I never do anything that doesn’t feel right. Don’t get me wrong, there are some meetings I take wondering if I really want that specific job. But that’s the beauty of the entertainment industry; sometimes you show up expecting it to end with an offer for a role, and over the course of the meeting, it leads you to a completely different outcome and offer. Some executives who have seen my work tend to assume they know me. After we meet, their level of expectation is changed, and new opportunities come my way. This was the case when I learned about the Netflix drama Sweet Magnolias. After Ivey was born, I was interested in pairing with a team on a music/film project called Roots. Songwriting, which is basically storytelling set to music, reminded me how much I adore being a part of the visual medium. I started to think about how I could infuse one with the other. The music was complete, but to develop the concept I envisioned, which grew out of the changes in my life since Maddie’s accident, I needed a creative team. I went out to LA to meet with executives from Netflix and Hulu. I met with two executives from Netflix, who were amiable, and we found ourselves talking about a myriad of topics. And just like in a movie, one of the women asked if I was interested in acting again. I said, “Yes. I’d love to. I’m ready to get back to work.” She went on to explain that within weeks a new show was going into production, and I would be perfect for one of the roles—but not a lead role, and I’d have to read for the part. It was a great way to get back into a series. Immediately they sent me “sides” and I loved the character. Within a day, I got a call that told me the production team was leaving for Atlanta the following day and if I was truly interested, I needed to meet them for breakfast that morning. I met the executive producers at the Four Seasons, and I immediately felt like this was right for me. “We still need you to read, Jamie Lynn. But we feel pretty good. Oh, and we start in Atlanta in three weeks. Will that work?” The timing and circumstance couldn’t have been better. God was definitely working the strings.
I think one of the things that surprises people about me the most is the dichotomy of my personality. I can be very serious, intense, and introspective. The flip side of that is that I am blunt, funny, and approachable. I recently did a photo shoot. If you’ve ever done any type of photo shoot, then you know the glam that appears on the page takes hours to attain. I don’t always have the same team to help enhance my appearance, so I make it a point to put everyone at ease as soon as we get there. The people behind the scenes—wardrobe, makeup, and hair—are the real geniuses. Print shoots are different from film. Photos require a number of looks that provide snapshots of me appearing as myself. I infuse my personality and playfulness into the process. To achieve an authentic picture, I combine elements of acting into print work.
When I’m acquainted with a team, I feel relaxed and can get going with the stylist. They always come well prepared—some better than others. An array of clothes and accessories are laid out and we bring the concepts together. A good stylist sets up combinations; a great stylist is one who knows who they are dressing and brings a vision. Sometimes multiple people weigh in on a look. But the final call is always mine—remember the control thing? Don’t let anyone tell you that makeup is just a mask. A makeup artist is a true professional. Quite frankly, they are remarkable at using shading and light to maximize a person’s assets. I especially enjoy working with a makeup professional who truly makes me look like a pulled-together version of myself, rather than a doll.
With hair there is a completely different approach. The hair professionals work together to create a color and hairstyle vision. Each outfit gets its own hair and makeup change. I usually love what they pull together, but when I don’t, adjustments are made. To be honest, I usually wait to see how things look on camera or computer screen before I interject.
While hair and makeup work in tandem with each other to transform me, I try to relax and often chat with the group. When I’m in the makeup chair, it’s like sitting around with a bunch of people talking about everything from shoes to children and world events. Recently, I sat quietly as the subject of young Hollywood came up and someone mentioned a name. They laughed when I asked, “Who’s that?” Someone said, “Come on, Jamie Lynn—you know who that is.” I responded kindly by explaining that a full-time mom living in Louisiana has very little time for celebrity gossip. It reminds me how separate the two parts of my life really are and how much I appreciate that arrangement.
Growing up as a versatile performer and athlete, I got used to changing in front of others. It’s a by-product of the job. In a professional situation, I do what needs to be done and there’s no time for inhibitions. I’ve got to try on all different types of clothes and combinations to achieve a look. I know that each picture tells a story or highlights an aspect of my personality. Sometimes I look in the mirror and dislike what I’m wearing. But it’s a look and it helps me become the version of myself we are all seeking to capture on film.
In preparation for the shooting portion of the day, I create an internal dialogue to get where I need to be mentally. I may approach the set feeling like my boobs are positioned wrong or my legs need to be tanner, but the shot needs to get done—and that’s the job. Once the shutter is pressed, I assume the role that’s intended for a given look. It’s acting with expressions and body language.
When a team prepares me for a role, it’s a distinct look for a character I bring to life. For me, the most peculiar aspect of this is dyeing my hair a completely different color. I usually have to do this several weeks in advance of a shoot, and looking at myself in a mirror can be unsettling. The effect can be so unlike something I’d choose for myself. But I remind myself it’s temporary. The bonus to wearing a color long term is that slipping into character is much easier. For example, in a series shoot, I’m often in similar attire, and once the clothes and makeup are on, I can slide right into character. For a character like Noreen, who I play on Sweet Magnolias, I find portraying her inspiring. She is living a life not too dissimilar to my own experience. I feel like infusing her with a strong spirit is almost healing for me. She has to take charge of her life and prepare for a baby without the support of a husband or fiancé. Noreen and I have parallel life experiences. Sometimes when I’m filming, I smile to myself thinking, Dang, she’s got her shit way more together than I did.
My history pervades every aspect of my performances. The pursuit of perfectionism and my commitment to professionalism is born of my upbringing. I practice my lines and refine my performance as needed. Dedication to my craft permeates everything I do, in order to cultivate a reputation as being both reliable and competent. I want to leave the set knowing that everyone sees me as a consummate professional. Within the parameters of all that, my integrity is paramount. I remain true to myself and to the characters I portray. I’ve got to be comfortable in whatever role I play to make it authentic. Fortunately, I can be comfortable in many different roles because of my love for creating characters. I can play an ingenue, even though that’s not my personality, just like I can be the antagonist—especially one who is misunderstood. At heart I’m a storyteller. The medium doesn’t really matter. If there’s a good story to tell, with a character that has depth and purpose, I want to be a part of it. The beauty of becoming part of any story’s journey is that ultimately it will lead me back to the stability of life with my family in Louisiana.
Writing and performing music allows me to share parts of myself and create stories based on my experiences. It also gives me an opportunity to explore my imagination and weave tales of life and love. Being a songwriter and performer ticks all the boxes for me—character building, storytelling, and performing. By default, so much of who I am and where I come from is woven into just about every song I’ve written. I think just about everyone is shocked when they discover the number of songs I have in my catalog. Of the over one hundred songs I am credited with, only a handful have been released as of this writing. I have written chart-topping hits for performers like Jana Kramer and received awards for my work. When the time is right, I plan to collaborate with other performers in the future and bring more of my songs to the public.
Timing has become an essential aspect of my life. I wear a lot of hats and want to ensure I’m fully present in that particular job. I spent years doing what others thought was best instead of what I felt was right for me. For now, I’m enjoying being a mom, acting, and partnering with Jamie to achieve our respective goals. I’m proud of my roots and the life I’ve created with my family in Louisiana. I can’t imagine living anywhere else, and sharing this part of myself with the world reaffirms my connection to everything I cherish. The journey from teen mom to who I am today, with its bumps, triumphs, and self-discovery, has convinced me that I’ve got to do something for myself, something that will serve my whole family. I want to create a life suffused with giving and authenticity.