Everyone has their favorite stories; the ones we tell over and over again with friends and family. The ones that are sometimes met with, “you know you’ve told me this 20 times, right?’ Yes, we know. But we think we’re hilarious, so just buckle up, OK?

I have always courted the unconventional. From drawing a series of pornographic pictures after my Mom gave me the sex talk…at four…to my sole teenage act of rebellion: going to church. “We’re very disappointed in you,” my atheist parents said.

When I was 16, I fell in love with Jon Bon Jovi – I refused to date for a year because I was “saving myself” for him – and felt certain that if he just met me, he’d feel exactly the same way (even though I was living in a rural Ohio town with zero connections and my mother banned me from Jon for fear he was ruining my life by making me obsessed with him. That’s right, it’s his fault!). Not easily discouraged, I set out to meet him, and before I turned 17, I was sitting in a small room backstage at his concert, watching him walk towards me.

At 23, I married my college sweetheart and divorced him at 26 after he had an affair. Affairs happen every day. What doesn’t happen every day? The wife and the girlfriend meeting at a bar, getting drunk, discovering we liked each other, and then setting off to confront him that same night.

The true stories contained in You’re Not Pretty Enough (the title refers to something my ex-husband used to say to me which is why *ahem* he’s an ex) speak to relatable experiences, but contain elements that are unique. Like having a celebrity crush, and then actually getting to spend time with said crush at the height of your infatuation, at the height of his fame. Or managing a relationship with a stepfather who wants little to do with you (with one exception: as an alcoholic entomologist, he was dead set on convincing me and my sister that insects should be part of our daily food pyramid and cooked them often to make his case). They are stories of heartbreak and hilarity, but ultimately they are stories about getting out of your own way and going for what you want, no matter what life throws at you.

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He walked into the college house party as if a spotlight shone on him at all times. People immediately turned towards him, their brightened faces reaching out to pat his shoulder, slap his hand, hug him or talk to him. It’s not like the partygoers weren’t having fun before; it’s more like the fun became…elevated. Like being at a concert and digging the music, but hoping and waiting for the band to play the song you want to hear; the song that turns the amp up to 11. When Leo walked into a place, he turned the amp up to 11.

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I dropped my book and stared at the TV. It was late fall, 1986; I was at my Dad’s for the weekend, half-watching MTV loop its most popular videos. But this one I hadn’t seen before. Who is this band? Who’s that guy?
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When my Mom was pregnant with my younger sister, I asked her where babies came from. She told me matter-of-factly that when a man’s penis becomes aroused he enters it into a woman’s vagina. Once there, sperm is released and travels to the woman’s womb where an egg is deposited, and – if all goes well – fertilizes and becomes a baby. “Well,” she qualified, conspiratorially, “I guess when a man is aroused he doesn’t always enter a woman’s vagina, but let’s save that story, shall we?” I looked at her curiously. I was four.

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