Professionally, when people first meet me, they probably assume they already know my character. Early in my career I was taught to be what was expected for a job. Much of the time I spent in Nashville kept me in a cycle of being all the things people needed me to be. But near the end of that experience, I started to realize I can only work to please myself. The standard of perfectionism I had set for myself was predicated on someone else’s vision. There wasn’t any pleasure in that. Coming to terms with what really brought me pleasure and how to cultivate more joy in my life didn’t happen until after Maddie’s accident and my subsequent religious study.
Because of my upbringing, I learned early on about the consequences of making emotional decisions; making choices based on how you feel about something will bite you on the ass every time. So often I remember watching Daddy walk out the door because he felt he needed to—that he couldn’t cope without a drink. He didn’t have the awareness to consider how his actions were affecting everyone around him. I believe the same is true of Momma, as she enabled behaviors that had huge ramifications for the family and her children’s well-being. My brother, Bryan, often did the same, while Britney struggled to make healthy decisions that served herself or others. Inversely, I spent years doing things that felt wrong for me and right for everyone else. It was almost my undoing.
In the years since Maddie’s miracle, I have truly experienced an awakening of sorts. I’ve shifted my perspective on how I live and make decisions on a daily basis. My philosophy is born of gratitude and a willingness to give. I try not to do one thing and feel another. The word “authentic” is what helps me stay strong in my conviction. In other words, I need to be true to the core. I want to be the same person whether someone is looking or not, which affords me internal accountability.
Life has given me so many precious blessings that my intention is to give them back. I know watching my child stop breathing and slip away changed me in a fundamental way. I started with actively praying for others in need. I believe in collective prayer and the power it has to provide peace. Giving over control to something bigger than myself makes it possible to live in the moment, which is different from how I approached things before. In the past, if Maddie asked me to do something with her and I didn’t want to, I would often do it reluctantly—unable to share her joy. I’d often become irritated with her or myself. Either way, it didn’t serve me or her. I still do things I don’t like to do. In fact, most of our lives are spent doing things we don’t want to do. The difference for me is that I reframed the way I make commitments. If Maddie asks me to do something I don’t want to do, I consider how my decision affects her. My heart may not be fully engaged, but hers is, and when we are together in it, I share in her joy. Ivey eats up time like I’ve never seen and I’m an incredibly impatient person. If I take her to the farmers market to pick out fruits and vegetables, she will invariably take three times longer than anyone else. Granted, she’s only three. I admit there are times when I slip up and think about all the things I could be doing. Until I look at her face. Her pure joy is contagious, and I am reminded why I brought her to the market in the first place. When I look back, I know I’ll never regret spending time with my girls, but I’ll chastise myself if I deny them playtime or a game of catch. In the past, I was great at making excuses not to do something, but I made a conscious decision to be as selfless as possible with my family and know that giving my time reaps incredible benefits. Without excuses, there is no hiding from myself. My internal and external dialogue are aligned, and I live more authentically.
Remember this is a process, and I am constantly learning as I go. In the case of Ivey, I know I could pick out the groceries, get home, cook, and serve a meal in the time it takes her to walk over to the market and look at two stalls. But it’s relinquishing control and being in the moment with integrity that makes all the difference. The actually committing takes a bit of work for me too. If Jamie wants to take me on a date later in the week and I accept, I vocalize my assent to myself throughout the week. “I will go to dinner.” Going to dinner isn’t a burden, per se. But after days of work, practices, dance, and chores, sometimes it’s difficult to muster the enthusiasm to go out. Saying things out loud makes me accountable.
I get no greater pleasure than from seeing the people I love happy. It’s life affirming for me and provides the impetus to give of myself even when I don’t want to. Like millions of parents, we teach our children that life is about doing things we don’t want to do, and if we are lucky, once in a while we get exactly what we want. Jamie and I work hard to teach our girls this philosophy during these precious developmental years.
My own childhood provided a very different perspective. My parents were reared with the “Do as I say, not as I do” theory. Looking back, I think that’s what infuriates me the most—the lack of integrity in their actions. The importance of hard work, dedication, and keeping appearances prevented any of us from speaking from our hearts and minds. We all went about our lives doing what we believed was right and let the behaviors and actions of others go unchecked. There was a huge difference between doing what we believed was right, and actually doing what was right. As a child, you don’t know the difference. Early on, I knew something was off, but my young mind couldn’t make the connection. But as I became an adult and had children of my own, I came to understand the contradiction in that approach. It was suffocating and to this day it still creates tension in the Spears family.
The cycle ends with me. I speak my mind, sometimes to the chagrin of others. When I’m unhappy or upset in a situation, I confront it the best way I can. It’s something I strive to do with my family, so we don’t develop deep-seated resentments and disappointments. I need to live and speak my truth. It’s another way I stay accountable. It’s helped me begin to heal from the challenges and disappointments in my past.
The woman I am today communicates with my parents in a way that serves me. If I don’t like something that is happening, I don’t keep quiet because they think it’s the right thing to do. Silence goes against living authentically. I consider why I feel as I do, and what addressing the issue will do. And then I share. Sometimes speaking my truth only serves me. But more often than not, I give my parents something to think about. Pretending that everything is just fine will never serve anyone.
My approach to communicating with Jamie and our girls hopefully provides them the freedom to speak honestly about unaddressed hurts and lingering resentments. I can only speak for myself and may share a different perspective. Sometimes we are so stuck in a moment we can only see things one way. Still, there are many times when we agree to disagree. I think that’s pretty normal with most families. Through action, I am trying to live my best self and encourage my own family to speak their truth.
Opening up on professional topics or addressing issues involving my family isn’t so easy. There’s a distinct difference between speaking on behalf of myself as compared to speaking about my family members. When I address issues as they pertain to my sister or my family, I can only speak for myself. As a family member, I am privy to experiences and information that permit me to see things differently than the general public. It’s not my story to tell, nor do I have any interest in correcting media reports.
The media has made millions of dollars exposing much of my private life and that of my family. The world has a pretty good understanding of the detrimental effects of such invasive scrutiny. I experienced firsthand how destructive living life inside out can be to everyone around me. Existing this way forced my family to present ourselves to the world in a way that hid our respective inner challenges. I believe that by doing this we preserved the public’s perception of Britney’s persona, and we did little to protect her as a daughter and a sister or us as a family. If I’m going to break the cycle, I need to own my truth, which is the role I played in my family’s life and the way I was manipulated into doing things for her that made me uncomfortable. I am culpable of so many things, but I will never claim responsibility for the challenges my sister or my family faces, nor would I ever lay blame on anyone else for my personal struggles. I love my family.
My parents’ need to keep up appearances for the sake of the business has been a powerful Spears motivator since I was a toddler. I was brought into the fold and though I was given freedom and opportunity professionally, I was also expected to do whatever was necessary in support of the Britney business machine. The years I spent protecting her and being the loyal sister have been in vain. The ambiguity of her conservatorship testimonies and social media postings have left me wondering what it was all for. I miss my sister, but I can’t take the blame for things I haven’t done.
The world will hear many things. Some of them may be true and others may serve respective purposes. You won’t hear anything from me. I have always worked hard and made conscious decisions that would lead me on my own path both personally and professionally. Like many siblings, we have our issues. But my relationship with Britney and our struggles has nothing to do with the conservatorship, but rather the boundaries I put in place to maintain the welfare of me and my immediate family. Britney’s description about the way she has been managed and treated does nothing to break the cycle. All of us have to manage our lives and struggles the best way we see fit. I’m on a constant journey to balance truth with wisdom.
My approach to living my best life keeps me grounded and lets everyone see who I really am. I am the mom who always tries to put the best interests of her children first. I am the wife who shares both the privileges and challenges of sustaining a family in unprecedented times. In a time where everything you want or need to know is at your fingertips, the answers to fulfillment still lie within. At least they do for me. The things I say and do keep me authentic. Now, when I sit down to discuss a project or opportunity, my confidence and intellect infuse all aspects of the conversation. I make certain I have all the facts and convey my needs before making a decision I know will affect me as well as my family. I surround myself with insightful forward-thinkers who understand how the industry works, where it is headed, and how to make things happen. As a teen performer, I basically took opportunities that came to me without much thought. Instead of doing something simply because it is lucrative, I now consider who I am as a person, and how a given opportunity reflects the image of the woman I am today. Pursuing life authentically means I am responsible for both my successes and failures—owning the good and the bad. I am grounded and comfortable in the woman I am and plan to keep learning as I go. And after the years I spent feeling untethered, this is just the way I like it.