Being Kendra (18 page)

At the end of the day I have fans who love me for being me. The network has allowed me to stay true to myself and I think people love that. And year after year I prove E! wrong in their thinking that without the glamour, I’ll lose viewers. Hollywood always thinks, “What would the Midwest and the South want to see about Hollywood people?” They think people want to see me with full makeup on, hair done, nails done (everything big!), in tight tops and skinny jeans with heels. But that wouldn’t be the real Kendra.

I do understand that I’m making a show for my fans and it’s important to me to keep it accurate about my life and experiences, so everyone can relate. But not a lot of people get to live our lifestyle, so while they might be able to relate to my being a mom, there are times fans get a kick out of seeing the fun perks I get to enjoy. The episode where I went to Fashion Week in New York was the highest rated of the third season. Why? Because not a lot of people get to live that lifestyle. It was fun and a fairy tale! A little fashion, a little bit of fun and partying, with drama and realness mixed in.

This season we’re going to step it up and show the Hollywood side of my life a little more. We’re going to show the ins and outs of the Hollywood lifestyle and look behind the scenes. Nobody has a better story than I do in Hollywood: A stripper and a druggie and a girl who lived in the Playboy Mansion ends up with a loving family and the support system that I now have. It shows that you can overcome things and become the person that you have always wanted to be. The fact that America embraces that by tuning in each week shows everyone loves an underdog.

Of course it’s fun to film the parties and the red carpets. But some days I’ll sit on the couch and be like, “Go ahead and film, but I’m going to sit here and do nothing all day.” Sometimes they use that to show me being a lazy slob.

We have a production assistant in charge of continuity who takes pictures so that we can piece scenes together as needed so everything will look the same. We have to put our same clothes back on. If we had purple flowers on the table, someone will need to go out and find those same flowers again and put them on the table. That part of the continuity is easy. The hardest thing for me is to get back into the mood we were in on a particular day.

In the second season Hank and I got in a real fight in front of the cameras, but none of the viewers would have been able to understand what we were arguing about because the backstory wasn’t caught on tape. So no one watching the episode would get it. The producers caught the fight but didn’t catch
why
we were fighting. We had to get back in the same clothes that we were in and we had to put things in the scene that made the fight make sense to the viewers. They had the fight on-camera and they really wanted to use it, so we had to reenact the part where we made up so it would make sense to the viewers.

The fight was real. So it wasn’t farfetched to have to reenact it. What happened was I was writing my first book and it was a very hard and emotional day for me; that day I was talking to the writer Jon Warech about a lot of heavy stuff. That was around the time my sex tape surfaced, so me and Hank were already on edge about that, but I wanted to tell Jon a little bit about it too. So after having this draining day, I headed home. Hank was having a bad day as well, and one of the producers told him to be serious because they wanted us to talk about what I had put in the book that day. They wanted it to be a serious scene. Then I get home and the same producer came up to me and told me to be lighthearted and just be myself. She had told us two different things accidentally. The producers like to set the mood, but in this case it backfired. We were supposed to be discussing the sex tape and Hank’s acting all serious (and pissed), while I’m coming in all happy like, “Yeah, I make sex tapes every day!” Everyone had gotten their wires crossed and there was some bad communication. I don’t think the producer deliberately tried to get us into a fight, but when you’ve got a whole group of people meddling in your business, ultimately a miscommunication here or there will happen.

I went in the kitchen where Hank was cooking and he looked really serious. I said, “Hey, babe,” and he was overly serious and seemed off. So I responded with, “Someone is in a bad mood. What’s wrong with you?” I was laughing, poking at him and making fun of his attitude—trying to loosen him up. And finally he just snapped. He said something like, “Why don’t you shut up and be serious?” So then I lost it. I said to him, “What the fuck? Why are you in such a grumpy mood? What’s so fucking wrong with you?” I found out later that he thought I was laughing at the sex tape stuff. The show needed me to talk about it and here they were telling me to be lighthearted about it and not dwell on it. It was the one time where we had miscommunication from the producers, and it really fucked with me and Hank. What we said to each other didn’t make sense for the story’s purposes. The cameras had followed me from the book-writing session, but the fight had nothing to do with the book. The fight was about our response to all of the heavy things going on in our lives, like the sex tape. It was me and Hank really fighting. We made up later that night but the cameras weren’t there. So we had to go back and shoot the make-up scene a month after the real fight. If we didn’t have the make-up scene on tape then the show wouldn’t make sense. The make-up scene is where we explain the fight and what happened.

You know what’s funny? I can’t even watch my show. I don’t want to relive the past; I want to live for the future. I don’t want to regret anything I do and say. I think that anything I shoot should be used. I’ll put it on at home because I’m superstitious about the ratings, but I’ll turn it on and then walk away. But I don’t want to start second-guessing myself and what I say and do. I try not to hide anything. I love to show myself and be open to the world. It really pisses me off sometimes that people criticize me for being a downer or being sad all the time. Who’s happy all the time? When people say, “Why are you always so sad?” then I say, “Why are you always so happy?” It’s not real to be happy all the time. I’m happy and sad, up and down, tired and energetic. I’m not one of these Hollywood stars who never show their cards. I’d be a horrible poker player because I’m not always grinning from ear to ear; you know exactly what’s wrong with me, when it’s wrong with me, and why it’s wrong with me.

A lot of reality stars have little say in what is being put into the show and what is being portrayed. Those on
Teen
Mom
have no control. Like Bravo with the
Housewives
; each one of their characters is being portrayed in a way that isn’t really true to what they’re like in real life. They are not always in glamorous outfits and talking shit. It just so happens that they cut to eyes rolling every five seconds. One of the Housewives could roll her eyes at a fire engine going by and ruining the scene, and the producers will cut it to make it look like she was rolling her eyes at something one of the other cast members said. It has happened to me, but not to that degree. One time I was watching a fly in the room and they made it look like I was rolling my eyes. But on my show they do it just enough so that it’s funny and cute. They would never blow it up into a huge thing.

Hank and I are trying to work hard and provide for our family and our futures. I don’t care how rich you are, these days it’s never enough to guarantee security. And frankly, even though I have cameras in my face every time I’m changing a diaper or have garlic breath, it’s fun being a part of show business, and as long as the ratings are good I’m going to keep doing it. I will stick around as long as my fans do.

T
his past Mother’s Day, I didn’t call my mom and wish her a happy Mother’s Day. It was one of the saddest days of my life. And while I believe everything happens for a reason and I always seem to come out okay in the end, I’m not sure what’s going to come of my relationship with my mom.

My mom gave birth to me. She raised me, loved me, and gave me a good childhood full of wonderful memories. And for the most part she did it all by herself. This is a strong woman, and I may not have always chosen the right paths, but deep down I know and I believe that I am where I am because of something she did.

It wasn’t always easy either. I had done drugs and been a maniac, but she always let me back in the house. She gave me tough love, kicking me out, trying to discipline me, and just being a mom. But she always let me know that our house was my home. And even though the moment I turned eighteen I was out of that house and started stripping, that was my choice, because I needed money. But I always knew that she would be there for me.

Since then we’ve always had a solid relationship. We would talk a lot and I would invite her out to events or to Philadelphia for football games; I always tried to include her. And when I got somewhere in life, I tried to make sure she felt secure and enjoyed some of the new freedoms and fun we could have. I’m not a saint—if you’ve read this far, you know that by now!—but I tried to do right by her, like any kid would want to do for their mom.

When I was living with Hef at the mansion, I introduced her to Dr. Frank Ryan, plastic surgeon to the stars (he recently passed away in a car accident). He showed her what they could do with her face because I wanted her to feel better as she got older. I wanted her to feel more comfortable in her skin. I thought it might help her find confidence and leave the house more and find a man or go see friends. I was worried for her because she never left the house to do things with friends, never really had friends, and basically just worked, came home, popped some dinner in the microwave, and watched TV. That had become the extent of her life, and it was hard for me to see my mom live a life that I considered to be so sheltered. She’d always say, “That’s me, there’s nothing wrong with doing that.” So she came out to the mansion and I took her to get the plastic surgery done—she had a nose job, had a face-lift, had her lips done, got rid of her wrinkles, and had a little bit of laser surgery. She stayed with us while she recovered, and I tried to take good care of her. When she was healed, she had a whole makeover, and she revealed herself during a
Midsummer
Night’s
Dream
party at the mansion. She looked amazing, like a new woman, and I could tell she was having so much fun in her skin. Afterward, she started to dress differently, and she acted ten years younger. She loved the mansion, she loved me, and that made me happy.

Things change though.

When Hank started moving around a lot for football, keeping in touch with friends and family became a casualty, not just with my mom, but with my brother and grandma and all of my friends. When your whole world is in California but you live in Philadelphia, Minnesota, and Indianapolis, you tend not to see the people in your life very much. That’s the way it goes. Throw a newborn baby in there, and even phone calls and e-mails became secondary concerns. It’s got nothing to do with my heart; in my heart I love my friends and family. But that first year, man, I just had to focus on the baby. I was struggling to stay afloat. So Mom and I didn’t see each other a lot because of all the moving. Sometimes in life you’re apart physically, but that should never affect the way you feel about someone in your heart. But my success in Hollywood and ultimately my preoccupation with being a mother took its toll on my relationship with my own mother.

Being a celebrity has its pros and its cons. My life went somewhere I never expected it to go. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do to live and pay my mortgage and take care of my husband and son. If I’m not a celebrity I have nothing. I never went to college, I don’t have another job opportunity, and frankly, if I wasn’t doing this I’d probably be stripping. So I’m doing what I need to do to get by. I don’t let it affect me and I don’t bring it up at the dinner table. My shit stinks just like everyone else’s; it’s just a job to me. But my mom and other people in my family don’t know my life. They just see the fun side, like the occasional influxes of money or vacations or red carpets. My mom, my grandma, and my brother think it’s more of a hobby that I’m doing for fun. They’ll see a couple minutes on TV of what we are doing and they think, “That’s it? You are getting that money to smile and take photos?”

I love my family, but they also need to understand that I have a new family. I would love for them to be a part of that, and luckily my brother and grandma have chosen that path. I don’t always do everything right, but I’m trying my best. There is no handbook that you automatically receive when you have a baby, and there isn’t one when you enter Hollywood either. Jack Nicholson isn’t standing on Sunset Boulevard passing them out, saying, “Here’s how to handle being famous.” For me, the rule is just “Don’t ever forget where you came from.” And I don’t mean the 120 miles from San Diego to Hollywood. I mean in your heart.

There are celebrities out there whose entire careers are based on partying. They’re not married and they don’t have children; they just get drunk and host a party. For a short period of time in my life several years back, that was me! I’ll be the first to admit that I can see why the average person would be jealous of them. Who wouldn’t want to live that lifestyle when they are twenty-two years old? But if you know me, what I’ve gone through, and what I do every day, you should be able to see past that and realize that’s not me now.

My mom became one of those people who watched me on TV and saw me in magazines and thought those were what I was choosing as my priorities in life. Because we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I went two weeks without calling her, she started to believe I was choosing fame over family. She’d watch
Entertainment
Tonight
and see me posing on the red carpet and blowing kisses at the TV and wonder how I had time to make the appearance and blow kisses at all of America if I didn’t have time to call her. If I could call a reporter at
Us
Weekly
and give an interview for thirty minutes, then why couldn’t I leave her a voice mail? In her mind, it seemed that, Kendra Wilkinson didn’t exist anymore. I was now “Kendra.”

Well, she’s right. I didn’t call her for two weeks. We used to talk every two or three days. The baby came, we moved around, and the calls dwindled to about once every week. Then we moved across the country to Philly (where Hank subsequently left me) and the calls dropped to once every two weeks. Time flew, I forgot to call her—and anyone else I loved too—but she couldn’t accept that as an honest mistake. I wasn’t feeling like myself and I didn’t have anything upbeat to share, so I just didn’t feel like talking. She wouldn’t accept my apology, and she appeared unable to accept the fact that my marriage and having a child and a career became my priorities. I did put my child and my family life before her. I’m just not sure if that’s wrong of me or not. I look at my beautiful son and I know that I have to give him my all. He’s so thoughtful—he shares his food and toys, he loves getting hugs and giving kisses, and he loves nothing more than to be around people. He’s a good boy and a direct result of the time and effort I spent with him. I wonder if my mom thinks I’ve done something wrong in that department. She’s never once said, “Kendra, you did well.”

The first week I went without calling her I was really busy. Monday turned into Tuesday, which turned into the weekend. But then the second week came up, and I wondered why she hadn’t called me to check in. Hank Jr. was teething and had a really bad cold. I wasn’t sleeping and neither was he. As a mom, I had to focus on what my baby needed. I just couldn’t call, and anyway, we should just call each other when we want; it shouldn’t always just be me having to check in. So I tested that a bit and waited to see when she would call me. I didn’t make that a big deal at the time because I was so busy; if a call didn’t happen it didn’t happen. I still loved my mom, I just didn’t have a moment to spare in a hectic fourteen-day period. That’s life!

Then the two weeks came and went, and Hank got released from the Eagles and we were trying to plan our life and future with him leaving us. Hank was gone after that day so I was dealing with all of that. Calling my mom dropped on my priority list again. But what I really needed during that time was for my mom to call me. I was twenty-five years old at the time. I still needed guidance and a mom to say, “How are you, Kendra?” I know she probably needed that from me as well.

I could have made more of an effort; maybe I
should
have made more of an effort to call her and make sure to update her on our lives. But truthfully, our relationship had been deteriorating, and phone calls became stressful for me. I was struggling with some things she had said to me and the way she was treating me. It was easier to push off calling, until eventually I just stopped. Deep down, I love my mom and I just kept assuming that she would always be there for me.

So eventually, I called my grandma and asked, “Why isn’t Mom calling me?” She said that Mom was going through stuff that I would never understand and that as she was getting older, it was hard to watch me have so much in my life. I was so happy and had a family, success, and my whole life ahead of me. But really, I was also struggling at the moment—my husband had just gotten fired from his job and was leaving us to go halfway across the country; my life wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t easy. As a mom myself, my family was my concern. I just wished my mom could be happy for what I’d accomplished and help support me when times got tough.

Finally my mom did call me later on that day when she heard I’d called Grandma. She was furious that I had called asking about her. And we got into a big fight!

I asked why she didn’t call me when Hank got released from the Eagles.

“Me call you? Why haven’t you called me?” she said.

And I agreed with her. I said, “I see your point there and I’m sorry. It’s been a really hard time for me, I’m not perfect. Raising a baby with everything going on in my life has not been easy. I’m completely overloaded.”

During this phone call, I realized we had more issues between us than just not having spoken in two weeks.

At that point I had to see her. I couldn’t travel down to San Diego to visit so I flew her into Philly, and we sat down on the couch, face-to-face. She said what was on her mind: “Kendra, you are so mean. You treat people like shit. People around you just kiss your ass and are doing everything for you to please you and kiss your ass.”

I sat there and took it all in. The only thing I said in response was, “Mom, I pay the people who work for me. They work with me. I’m a boss just like any other boss in the world. I run a business; you have to realize that.”

She has it in her head that these people work for free and just do whatever I say because I’m famous and they want to tag along.

Our face-to-face chat only made things worse. I got to see who she really is, and while I wanted to understand her, help her, provide for her, and make sure she knows she can be a part of our lives, it was obvious she had years of anger at me built up. Maybe she felt like she was being left behind, but for most of my life I had always lived less than ninety miles away. I hated thinking it was jealousy or abandonment, because I didn’t want to feel guilty for the beautiful things in my life. My family, my husband, my son, my career—they are all things I shouldn’t be made to feel ashamed of.

But she started saying and doing things that made me question everything.

She actually told Hank that the day he proposed to me was the day she lost her daughter. My heart skipped a beat when I heard that. She was smiling and so happy the day of my wedding. I thought she was so happy for all of us, happy that with everything we had been through I finally had found a man who loved me and we were going to build a life together and give her a grandchild. But I think that was all an act. That devastated me.

I feel really bad that she has turned all of these positives into negatives, which makes me feel sorry and completely compassionate toward her, but I also can’t hide my own feelings. I’m angry at her and think she’s being selfish. I know that’s not right of me, I should be concerned for her and I am, but I’m also angry. No mother should disapprove of the day her daughter finds love and happiness. Hank and I were in shock. To think the most important person in my life disapproved and wasn’t happy about it drove a stake right through my heart.

My heart still aches thinking about it, and my stomach ties itself in knots. This is another one of those adult situations where you wish you could just crawl into your childhood bed and wake up in the morning and find that everything’s gone. But the weeks go by, and nothing changes unfortunately.

I’ve come to the point now where even though Hank and I don’t have a relationship with my mom, I’ve allowed her to keep seeing baby Hank. I wouldn’t keep her from her grandson, but my husband is done. After she told him that she lost me when he proposed he was done. That made Hank cry, because for him that too was the most beautiful day of his life. My relationship with my mom aside, I want my son to have a relationship with his grandma. Right now baby Hank is saying “Grandpa” and “Grandma” to Hank’s parents. It’s the cutest thing in the world. And he could be saying “Mimi” to my mom too, but he’s not. I let my brother, Colin, coordinate time between my mom and baby Hank to make sure they get to see each other. He lives with my mom in San Diego, and while I know this situation has him stuck in the middle, he’s trying to stay out of it. I really respect him for that, because it would be very easy for him to choose a side, especially that of Mom, because he lives with her. But he’s been trying to stay out of it and just be a son to my mom and a brother to me. Colin spent Memorial Day weekend with us, and thankfully our relationship is great.