Free ‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’ - Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol by Jake Brown, Jasmin St. Claire

sent me away to Brazil to get some air from the whole situation for about a week and then I visited France, Germany, and a few other places. After that, I went back to dancing, but really had no career-direction at that point. My mom kept pushing me to apply to law school, but I really had no interest in following in her footsteps. Then she switched to just pushing me in general to get my Masters, or a PhD, and so forth. My question was always: ‘For what?’ What good does that really do me if my heart isn’t in it, also I know many people who have graduated from law school or any number of other graduate programs who ended up without any grander job prospects, and $50,000 in new debt from the graduate loans. So my spring and early summer were really aimless, I just worked to pay off Dick’s debts. If I had any professional aspirations, they were to run or own my own business, because I had seen the money potential in the collectibles business for one example. I just couldn’t get out from under my bills long enough to get anything started on my own. I tried to have fun when I could. I’d go to the beach or pool and relax without worrying about Dick becoming paranoid over me saying hi to some guy, or for that matter, wondering if he was off in some motel room fucking some bimbo he’d met on the Casino floor or in a bar. I definitely felt alone in the world, I had some friends from dancing, but none whom I was very close with. One friend, Elise, was there for me, but I was largely alone. In general, I never had anyone there for me growing up, not when my father died, never.
    My mom just insulted everything or talked down to me all the time in a very condescending way. She would be nice to everyone around me, be it my friends or whomever, so they would then think I was nuts and lying about everything she’d done. It was very much like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with my mom, and it wasn’t about a fucking curfew. It was the fact that I never did anything that was good enough for her, and there wasn’t ever even a fucking established bar to try and meet or talk, because she always moved it. If I was doing well, she’d set it higher, if I was at a low, she’d make it so high I never felt I had any potential of reaching a point where she’d accept me. Nothing was, or is to this day, ever good enough for her. Personally, I think she’s incapable of ever being happy. Her favorite word to describe my clandestine teenage activities: PROSTITUTING . I laugh at it now, but that was a fucked up thing for any parent to say to a child. How did she think that was going to make me feel about my self image? As far as I’m concerned, she’s as much to blame as I am for anything I’ve done since that she’s disagreed with in terms of my adult life. Frankly, she’s as responsible for my choices as I am, right or wrong, and if she’d been even a little more trusting with me as a teenager, I believe things would have turned out very differently. Even when I told her about my wedding plans, she shot that all to shit. I think she honestly wishes I could have stayed a 10 year old girl forever. Dick certainly never treated me any better. If anything he only added to that lack of confidence. Eventually though, if you beat anyone down enough, they either wither away and die off, or lash back out at the world.
    My grandmother had died not even a year prior to my father’s death, in September of 1992, which was brutally hard on me, losing two people who were that near to me in such close proximity to one another. My grandmother had helped raise me, as a hands-on parent, and from you’ve read thus far, it’s clear I didn’t have a conventional parent-daughter relationship with my mother. I found out about sex from a therapist because my mother couldn’t have the conversation with me.The same with drugs: through a third party. I got used to that dynamic, as odd as it sounds, and so it made it easier to see my grandmother as sort of a