This Will Only Hurt a Little(80)

Publicly, people had never been more interested in me and my personal life. Or whatever version of my personal life I was showing. But when they’d comment about how real I was, how relatable, how authentic, I would cringe. I was leaving this whole other side of myself offscreen. Which is okay, of course. Obviously, I know that. Obviously. But still.

Meanwhile, as Donald Trump became president, and my personal life started to fall apart, I did a pilot called The Sackett Sisters. Tina Fey produced it, and I starred in it with Casey Wilson and Bradley Whitford. It was a no-brainer. Of course it was going to get picked up; how could it not? Around the same time, the movie Marc and Abby had written for themselves to direct got financing, and then in a whirlwind, Amy Schumer became attached, and just like that, it was a go for the summer.

We were doing well in therapy together too. In his own sessions, Marc had recently had what I guess is called a breakthrough, and when I finally came clean about the other dude, he was weirdly understanding about it. He really just wanted me to know that he loved me and was sorry I’d felt so alone for so many years and wanted to support me in whatever I needed. He wanted to be a different partner and a different dad, and he was delivering on that. It’s hard to explain it exactly, but he broke open in a way and totally changed the way he related to everyone, not just me. It wasn’t exactly overnight, but it was happening, and I could recognize the change—everyone we knew could see it. For a long time, Birdie had also talked to me like I was an idiot, and I figured that was just what girls did with their moms. It was certainly how I talked to my mom growing up. But once Marc changed, so did she. I sobbed in therapy that I had allowed it for so long: of course my daughter treated me the way her dad treated me. I’d just never made the connection.

We were starting to mend, all of us.

? ? ?

That spring, my mom and dad were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Fifty years. As a treat for all of us, they wanted to take me and my sister and our families on a DISNEY CRUISE. Marc and I looked at each other skeptically: “A ‘treat’?”

We were being such jerks about it, so snobby. Like, HOW COULD A DISNEY CRUISE POSSIBLY BE ANY FUN FOR US? Obviously the kids were going to love it, but Marc and I were resigned to being miserable for a week in the Caribbean. Our idea of a vacation wasn’t being stuck on a boat with a bunch of strangers and my family, eating cruise food and trying to avoid norovirus! But a week or so before we were to leave, I had an epiphany. We were so lucky. People would do anything to go on a trip like this with their families. Why couldn’t we just be grateful? Maybe we could go and be open to having a really great time. All of us. I thought of it like a character I was going to play. I went though my closet and built the perfect Disney cruise wardrobe for myself, making sure each of my outfits would work with my Minnie Mouse ears headband, which I would wear the entire cruise. I also decided I would try to deal with my family in a different way so that it wouldn’t be so hard on me. Marc was really supportive in helping me navigate the dynamics, which made a big difference.

And then the craziest thing happened. We had the best time. To our surprise, Marc and I maybe had more fun than anyone else on the ship. We went to all the events and shows and hit the spa every day. Birdie was thrilled at all the freedom she had and made friends with a little girl from Florida, and Cricket had Iliana and her cousin to play with, so she was having the time of her life too. Marc and I made friends with some of the performers on the ship, plus our favorite bartender, who made me about a thousand skinny margaritas. I Instagram-storied the entire thing with the hashtag #ipaidforthis, because I didn’t want people to think I was doing an #AD for @disney. The truth is, they should have fucking paid me. Or at least reimbursed me for my THREE-THOUSAND-DOLLAR INTERNET CHARGE. When I realized how much money I had spent on the high-seas internet, Marc and I dissolved in a fit of giggles. It was so much money! But also, weirdly worth it? And so me to not know I was spending so much money. We reasoned that since the trip was free thanks to my parents, it was okay. Basically, I just spent three grand documenting a super-fun vacation.

While I was on the boat, I found out that The Sackett Sisters probably wasn’t getting picked up. I was devastated. It had felt like a sure thing, so sure I had already lived the next year of my life in my head. What was I supposed to do now? I’d started making money from branded deals on my Instagram, or from doing one-off “press days” for brands, so that wasn’t the issue. It was the fact that I had been doing this job (acting) professionally for twenty years and the rejection has never gotten easier for me. I don’t know why I kept expecting it to, or kept hoping it would. But I did. I kept thinking maybe one day, I would wake up and it wouldn’t break my fucking heart when I wasn’t cast in Bridesmaids. One day, I wouldn’t even flinch when I was asked to lose weight. One day, I wouldn’t cry for a week straight when my pilot didn’t get picked up. One day. One day. One day.

I love acting. I love it more than I can articulate. I actually just started to tear up writing those words. It’s impossible to overstate what being an actor has meant to me. How it’s saved me again and again. A favorite question in interviews has often been, “If you weren’t an actor, what would you do?” And I always draw a blank. Nothing. There’s nothing else I want to do. Nothing else I can do as well. Nothing else I should be doing. This is it. This is what I do. It’s who I am, right? But when The Sackett Sisters didn’t get picked up, I knew somehow that I was done. Done auditioning. Done trying to convince people they should give me a shot, give me the part, put me on TV, make me the star. Done. DONE.