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  This book is dedicated to my mother, Bonnie, the lighthouse in my life.

  When I found out I was pregnant, one of my wise and wonderful best friends, Dru, wrote this to me. I think it’s really beautiful, and I’d like to share it with you.

  It is a great honor to become a mother. Eckhart Tolle says that parenting is the perfect place to reach enlightenment.

  Queen Afua says that Motherhood will make you over if you let it. Yes. She says it will create spiritual, emotional, mental and physical muscle and teach you how to master your own life.

  It is all of these things and more.

  It is the deepest nirvana ache and the pinnacle of ecstasy.

  Listen, this is true: It is the most magnificent fight. It is scratches and balmy tears and milk. It is beautiful, it is bubbly and sweet and defies gravity. It is music: it is jazz and rock and roll, it is old soul and symphony. It is color and sound and light.

  Welcome, Sweet Mother Woman.

  God bless your new journey, always.

  INTRODUCTION

  If you find it in your heart to care for somebody else, you will have succeeded.

  —MAYA ANGELOU, MOTHER OF ONE

  Let me start by saying that nothing brings me more joy than being a mom! Nothing. It’s by far the best thing I’ve ever done and I’m grateful every day for my daughter, Palmer. HOWEVER, motherhood is also by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Ever. Even a few years in, I do not have this whole parenting thing down. Why? Just when you think you’ve figured out one stage, your child moves on to another.

  One reason I wrote this book is because I didn’t connect with the flawless parenting images and idyllic moments I saw in the movies and on mommy blogs and Instagram. For me, they could not have been farther from the truth. They made pregnancy and motherhood look magazine perfect, which just makes you feel like you are on the hot mess express. Where was the screaming baby? Where were the dark circles and the hair that hadn’t been washed in days? Mom bun, anyone? I once saw a quote attributed to Socrates that said, “What screws us up the most in life is the picture in our head of how it’s supposed to be.” Amen to that! Sure, I love to post adorable Instagram pics of my daughter, Palmer, in smocked dresses, bows, and cute bathing suits on the beach (dressing a baby girl is so much fun!), but I’m also honest about my pregnancy constipation and less-than-stellar mom-to-be diet, the post-pregnancy pain in my crotch, my fire-hose-like oversupply of breast milk, and my decision to quit breastfeeding just shy of three months, along with Palmer’s love affair with her paci (which is really my own inability to take it away from her). Everything, actually.

  Why am I oh-so-honest? Maybe giving you TMI on occasion? Because I feel like many, many women don’t talk about what you really go through during the first few weeks and months as a new mom. Perhaps it’s because they don’t want to be labeled as depressed, admit that they didn’t have this Instagram-worthy experience or seem like they don’t have their shit together. Well, ladies, that’s okay. I’m happy to admit it. All of it. In fact, it’s normal. I was depressed. My experience wasn’t Instagram worthy and no, I didn’t have my shit together. (Hardly!) The first week alone was full of sheer exhaustion, shock, lots of tears and not knowing what the hell I was doing. I’m fine sharing this new-mom experience with you because the resounding message that I get every single day from women with newborns is something along the lines of, “Oh my God, I had no idea it was going to be this hard. But then I look at your Instagram and it makes me feel so much better about what I’m going through.” I’m also fine shattering the myth that you can have it all. The response has been overwhelming, hence One Day You’ll Thank Me. I wanted to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the milk-leaking, pee-in-my pants, when-can-I-drop-her-at-day-care truth. But I also wanted to assure you of one thing: you WILL be okay. Or as my mom used to remind me growing up, “This, too, shall pass.”

  I really believe that timing is everything, including when it comes to having a child. For me, at thirty-five years old I could handle what would have put me into a padded room at twenty-five years old. I also realized that becoming a mom doesn’t have to totally rock your world, and just because you have a baby doesn’t mean that your life ends; it’s just a different life. I was so scared to get pregnant and then even more afraid when I realized that I’m not such a baby person. As a total control freak, the unknown terrifying and let’s just say that parenting, no matter how much you read, plan and organize, is lots of unknown. While it’s not always easy, what you get back is worth every messy mama moment. Sure, it’s full of ups and downs, but you choose how to react to change and you choose your expectations. If you think life as a new parent—or just as a parent at all—is supposed to look neat ’n’ tidy, then you’ll feel awful that you’re not making your own baby food, that you haven’t showered in days and that you’ve become one of those moms whose living room looks like a playpen. (Yup, that’s me. And that’s one thing I said I’d never allow. What a snotty bitch I was!) It’s important to realize that it kind of sucks at times, but you get through it and it’s worth it. Well worth it.

  Even though motherhood is tough, tiring and like climbing on a roller coaster every single day, YOU’VE GOT THIS. One thing I’d also say is go with your gut. That is something I’ve realized along the way as a mother—and in life—because my gut has never failed me. And if you do it all with a sense of humor, you will be okay. Trust me: if I can get through it, anyone can! I’ve survived the first few years of mamahood just fine as a sometimes anxiety-ridden, stressed-out working mom on reality TV who won’t hire a nanny. I know it sounds totally sweet and sappy, but you cannot put a price tag on motherhood. It’s the best feeling in the entire world just to be loved by your own little child. What I realized is that nobody is perfect; instead, you learn and grow with your baby. Yes, I know that many days I fail as a mom. Sometimes I say bad words, sometimes I let Palmer have a little too much screen time and sometimes I let her watch The Price Is Right just so I can drink a warm cup of coffee. Sometimes I cry in front of her. It ain’t all roses… And guess what? That’s all okay! I’m not perfect, but I’m trying, and I sure do love my little girl.

  Chapter One THE REAL WORLD

  Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.

  —ERMA BOMBECK, MOTHER OF THREE

  I have no problem admitting that I was ten times cooler and more fun before I got pregnant and had a child. Today, I may be grandma central and yes, I believe that a perfect night out on the town is a dinner reservation at 5:30 P.M. so that I can be in bed by 8 P.M.—even on my birthday. Actually, especially on my birthday. I may have lost my edge and my mojo and have zero social life and I’m totally, 100 percent fine with it. However, real proof that I could hang in my late teens and twenties is the fact that I was on The Real World when I was nineteen years old. Here’s how it all happened…

  When I was growing up, there were only four television stations (okay, now I really sound like a grandma), and my family didn’t get network cable until I was in high school. That is when I started watching The Real World on MTV. For those of you who were just a twinkle in your mama’s eye at the time, The Real World was one of the first rea
lity TV shows. This was long before women were asked to accept this rose on The Bachelor, risk takers chose to subsist on rice and just one outfit for thirty-nine days on Survivor and, of course, my castmates and I took part in the Charleston social scene on Southern Charm The Real World was sort of like Big Brother, because total strangers lived together, but it was not a competition, so no one was kicked off and no one won. On The Real World, seven total strangers, all from different backgrounds, were picked from across the United States to live in an amazing house and have their lives documented for several months. It was sort of a social experiment. Each season the house was in a different city. The whole concept fascinated me—especially because I’m a country girl who grew up in a small town in upstate South Carolina called Anderson, about three and a half hours from Charleston. My mother grew up there, and so did my mother’s mother. Actually, I’m a tenth-generation South Carolinian… meaning nobody ever left. Ever. So I always thought it would be really cool to just pick up and move somewhere new to experience something greater/bigger/different. I had no clue that reality TV would offer me that opportunity.

  I had always read that the chances of getting on The Real World were slim to none. Hundreds of thousands of people applied every year. That said, I still gave it a shot. The summer after my freshman year of college, I saw an ad online that they were currently holding open casting calls around the country for the fourteenth season. I went to MTV’s website and found out that Atlanta, Georgia, was one of the cities. This is only an hour and a half away from me, I thought. I should go. At that time in my life, I had little direction. I had no idea what I wanted to “be” when I got older. I had no burning passion for any one thing and I felt kind of lost. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to drive to Atlanta and see what this open casting call was all about. If nothing came of it, at least I could say I auditioned for The Real World. At the time, I had no idea which city the show would be in if I did get chosen. But my family never really traveled when I was growing up, so the chance to just pick up and move to anywhere in the country was part of the allure.

  I actually had to forgo my younger sister Cayce’s high school graduation to go to the casting call. We are only fifteen months apart and had spent much of our childhood beating the living shit out of each other. But I love her like no other and felt really bad. Although she didn’t actually care whether I came to her graduation or not, it ticked my parents off and I got a lot of grief from them about it. Still, I couldn’t shake the pull to go to Atlanta and see what would happen next. It sounds crazy, but at the time I had this weird gut feeling that the audition was something that I was supposed to do and that if I did it, against all the crazy odds, I would get picked for the show. As you’ll see in this book, my gut never fails me.

  So I got dressed (I just wore what I normally did: a short blue jean skirt and white polo top. Very simple. Nothing in your face.) and drove the hour and a half to Atlanta. When I got to the convention center where the casting call was taking place, there was a seemingly endless line wrapped around the building. Some people were in tents and had actually camped out the night before just to get a good place in line. I had absolutely NO idea that it would be this crowded. Oh my God, I thought. This is NUTS. I considered turning around and going home, but I still couldn’t shake this weird feeling that I was supposed to audition. So I got in line and waited. And waited and waited and waited. I’m not sure how long I stood there, but it was hours and hours. When my time finally came, I went inside and was directed to go sit at a table with about seven other people. The casting directors from MTV told us to just talk amongst ourselves and interact with each other. They wanted to see our personalities and how we dealt with other people. It lasted about ten minutes. And that was it. Yes, I’d missed my sister’s high school graduation, driven sixty miles, and waited for hours in line, all for ten minutes. Then I got in my car and drove sixty miles home.

  About a week later, my phone rang while I was folding laundry. It was a woman from the casting department at MTV.

  “Cameran, you’ve made it to the next stage of the casting process for The Real World,” she said. “Now we would like to interview you.” What happened over the next several months was a very intense interview/screening process to advance through the respective rounds. I had to fill out a questionnaire that was the size of a book. They asked about everything from my belief systems to my family to things that I had done or experienced. On top of that, there were personality profile tests and questions to determine how I would react to various situations. I also had to travel to two different cities—one was Jacksonville, Florida, and the other one I can’t remember—to conduct more in-person interviews. At one point during one of the interviews, they asked me about my mom. I was talking about all the ways she had been instrumental in helping me develop confidence and self-worth and all the wisdom she imparted to me. It was the first time I had actually talked to someone about it and said these things out loud. Realizing all she had done for me really moved me and I started crying in the interview—not tears of sadness, but of gratitude that I had such a wonderful mother. Soon thereafter, MTV called my family members and friends to get even more information about me. And that’s not all. I was also questioned and screened by a psychiatrist. I remember thinking that if I wasn’t picked, at least the interview process itself had been an interesting, memorable experience that taught me a lot about myself.

  And then it happened! I can remember the moment I got the call as clear as day. “Cameran, congratulations… you will be one of the seven strangers on season fourteen of The Real World,” said Jonathan Murray. He was one of the creators of the show and I could not believe that he was on the other end of the phone. “We’ll be filming in San Diego. Get ready to leave in two weeks.” Oh my gosh! I thought. I’m leaving South Carolina and going to California. I felt like I was on a cloud. If there was one place I wished to go in this country, it was Southern California. I had been there twice as a child to visit my aunt and uncle who lived in Orange County. Ever since then, the Golden State seemed like a dream to me: always sunny, always warm. Palm trees everywhere and just a completely different vibe than I was used to growing up in a small town in the Deep South. The news that I was about to live there for five months was probably the most exciting thing to ever happen in my life at that point. I couldn’t pack my bags fast enough.

  I called my mom immediately. “This is a very pivotal decision for you,” she said after I told her. “Especially at such a young age.” My mom was never a controlling parent, so she didn’t tell me it was the right or wrong thing to do. Instead, as always, she said she would support my decision but to be very careful about the way I carried myself while filming the show. “This could end up being a very good thing or a very bad thing, and that will be based solely on the decisions you make,” she added. Besides my mom and other close family members, MTV said I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about the show. They didn’t want me or any other cast members mentioning The Real World, so if people asked where I was going, I was supposed to say “to film a documentary.” Luckily, no one asked. I mean, c’mon, who would believe I was going to film a documentary? On what? I couldn’t scream about The Real World from the rafters but, y’all, I was SO, SO excited. My family was supportive, but a little hesitant about what I was about to do… after all, I was only nineteen years old and pretty naive. Looking back, I believe this is actually why I was chosen. Going into the casting process, I think the producers knew they were looking for one of the personalities to be a small-town Southern girl who was as naive as they come. I fit the bill perfectly.

  MTV told me that pretty much everything I needed would be provided other than my own personal clothing. “Make sure to bring ‘going out’ clothes,” they said. Um, what? I didn’t own anything even remotely sophisticated or “hip” to wear to nightclubs in California. So my dad took me to Bebe at a local mall and bought me two black dresses. I swear I felt like Cinderella (in an odd way). Even though I had only two wee
ks to get ready to leave for five months, I was a nineteen-year-old college student who didn’t own much, so it wasn’t like I had to scramble to pack it all up or get it organized. Instead, it felt like I was just resetting my life, and it felt good. So off I went to California with just one big suitcase.

  The first time I walked into the Real World house in San Diego, a big, bright blue modern house that sat on the end of a fishing wharf, it felt like I was walking into a celebrity’s home. It was so different from anything I had ever seen or lived in in South Carolina. It had three bedrooms—the guys shared one, the girls the other two—lots of decks and a hot tub. The decor was all very brightly colored and young/hip, with a definite beach/surfer theme to go along with the Southern California location. I couldn’t believe this was going to be my home for five months.

  The show was filmed from August to December, and then would premiere the following January with twenty-six episodes. There were seven of us in our house—four girls and three boys. Here’s how they described me and my housemates: Southern belle Cameran, 19; motorcycle enthusiast Brad, 22; certified masseuse Frankie, 21; quick-witted Jacquese, 19; San Francisco native Jamie, 20; Randy, 24, who worked at a Boston nightclub; and Robin, 22, a bartender in Tampa. When I met my new roommates for the first time, I instantly loved them all. Although most Real World casts fight a lot, we genuinely liked each other and had a good time together. Our cast had a unique bond. I immediately had a crush on Brad. As a motorcycle-loving boy from Chicago, he was nothing like the guys I was used to in small-town South Carolina. He had a loud mouth, said what he felt and had little decorum. I found him to be very refreshing and interesting! I shared a room with Jamie Chung, a beautiful Korean-American girl from San Francisco who went on to become a successful actress. I was in total awe of her effortless California style—she wore UGG boots before they became a thing. I thought she was just so cool and by the end of our stay, I was definitely copying every single thing she wore. Jamie and I keep in touch to this day.