My Reality

by Melissa Rycroft

  As I agonized over my final decision about whether I should go, I didn’t share any of my thoughts or fears with my mother. When I finally chose to go, I told her the date I was leaving. And that was the end of the discussion.

  Next up was tackling the logistics of the move. Preparing to leave for taping proved to be almost as big a feat as deciding to go! According to the producers’ instructions, I had to pack for up to two months and be prepared for all types of weather, while keeping in mind the rules of looking good on TV: no white, no stripes, and no heavy patterns. But I was not told where I would be living or what life would be like, so I had no idea if I should pack for LA or for Alaska. It was hard enough packing for two months, let alone the fact that I didn’t know where I was going, or what I would be doing when I got there. Included in the packet was a full-page checklist of items to bring: swimsuits, sweaters, T-shirts, tank tops, casual day dresses, winter jackets, and mittens. Oh, not to mention the fourteen formal gowns for the show’s Rose Ceremonies.

  What?!? Is it cold? Is it hot? Is it winter? Where the heck am I going? I couldn’t pack all of these items for a WEEKEND getaway . . . let alone a possible two-MONTH stay!

  The list of what I was not allowed to bring was almost as long as what I was told to pack, just as on any reality TV show, on which you never see cameras, cell phones, magazines, books, crossword puzzles, or anything that’s at all entertainment oriented.

  Hmmm . . .

  Did I fail to mention that our luggage was also extremely limited? I couldn’t believe it.

  I’m a girl. I have makeup. I have hair stuff. I have shoes. That alone could fill several bags! How do I possibly even begin to make this work?

  It all seemed kind of ridiculous, and I was quickly starting to question whether I had made the right decision.

  At first, it seemed impossible to overcome the packing challenges, but then I really started thinking about it. As much as I wanted the adventure of going on The Bachelor, I wasn’t actually going on the show to look for love. I was simply going to move on with my life and find a new, happy place inside of myself. I needed to rediscover me. And since I believed that finding love on the show to be pretty much impossible, I didn’t plan on sticking around too long, so I started relaxing about the whole packing dilemma. Two weeks, tops, I thought, is enough time for me to be away.

  It wasn’t so much that I thought two weeks would be long enough for me to get over Tye, or that going on The Bachelor would help me get over him 100 percent. But I knew that I just needed to get away from Tye, and I thought that even a short stay on the show would give me that nudge I needed to move on, get my feet back on the ground, and regain the sense of independence I’d lost while we were dating.

  So that’s how I solved my space issues—by literally only packing for about two weeks. I joked with all of my friends that I’d be back by Halloween, so they should hold on to my Halloween costume for me. Even though it was only late September, of course I already had it all planned out. My Madonna “Like a Virgin” costume was ready to go!

  Maybe it was because I had so much going on in my personal life at that point that, looking back, I can hardly believe how calm I was about the prospect of appearing on national TV. Now, having been on television, I totally would have approached it differently; maybe bought some nice makeup and learned how to do my hair. But I didn’t do much of anything in preparation. I think my mom took me on one quick shopping trip for a few outfits. This meant so much to me, since I knew she wasn’t thrilled about my doing the show. It reminded me that she’s my mom, and ultimately she’ll do whatever she can to make me happy, even if that means supporting me in choices that she doesn’t necessarily back. I think that shopping day was her way of saying, “I don’t understand or agree with what you’re doing, but I love you.”

  Even so, I didn’t really buy that many new clothes. I picked up maybe three tops on our shopping spree, just to make sure that I had enough solid pieces rather than printed or fancy ones, and that was it. I definitely didn’t buy any new dresses. Do you know how expensive formal dresses can be?? I had only two, and they were from my junior and senior proms back in 2000 and 2001. One other thing: They were two-pieces. Yeah . . . slight dilemma.

  When I wanted to dress up and look cute in Dallas, I sometimes wore little black shorts and a top, so I brought those outfits for the Rose Ceremonies. I was totally oblivious to the fact that some women were actually going to whip out their homecoming and prom dresses, and fix their hair into updos for this thing. And there I was, packing my white shorts and tank tops, thinking I had it all together. My friends, however, made me take a couple of their extra dresses, so I had enough for all of the Rose Ceremonies. They didn’t want me to use my lack of dresses as any kind of excuse to come home early.

  The truth was, I still had no idea what I was getting myself into. I had only seen a few episodes of The Bachelor, and I didn’t do ANY research before leaving to be on the show. Early on in college, Stefani and I had organized informal Bachelor/Bachelorette Viewing Party nights, but that was a long time ago, back in the Andrew Firestone era. And I hadn’t really watched it since. So I vaguely recalled the concept of the show, but none of the specifics. I didn’t remember that romantic dates were usually set up out of the country, or that parents got involved. If I had known this last part, I would have spoken to my parents again, one last time, before I left. Instead, I went in blind.

  They say that ignorance is bliss. And they’re right! All I focused on was the great adventure I was about to embark on that would finally help me climb out of the black hole that I’d been living in for more than six months. I was tired of feeling sad. I was tired of feeling as if I had no control over my emotions. I knew that I was the only one who could make it all better. I was finally doing something to make a change in my life.

  The real truth was that until I boarded that plane to leave, Tye remained a powerful force in my life. The last time we saw each other was two nights before I left, at another dinner date at his house. As usual, we talked about everything—except what was really going on between us. Or the fact that I was leaving in just a few days, and that neither one of us knew what would happen while I was on the show or when I’d be back. Instead, as was our usual way, we kept things light. Of course, you may have guessed by now that I could never just leave him without giving him that one LAST opportunity to finally try to win me over! I was not very good with sharing my emotions with Tye (unless, apparently, I was irrationally yelling). So I took the easy way out and wrote it in a card for him that said: “Tye, I don’t really know what to say. I know this is an awkward situation, but I hope you understand why I have to go . . . Look at this card if you ever get lonely, and hopefully you’ll think of me . . . because I’ll be thinking of you.”

  At this point, I think both of us had already made up our minds that I needed to go, and he didn’t really respond to the card (what a shocker!). The whole night had been weird because he didn’t seem to really want me there. Whether he was agitated by the fact that I was leaving, or just finished with the night, I could tell he was preoccupied. Finally, after we had sat together in silence for a little while, he spoke.

  “Well, I think it’s time for you to go now,” he said.

  When I walked out of his house, the mood between us was very casual—just like two friends saying good-bye. But inside, I was angry and hurt, once again, that he still hadn’t fought for me, or even given me the slightest encouragement that I should keep my feelings for him alive while I was away. I had told him that I’d be back in two weeks, but when I left that night, I didn’t see or talk to Tye again for nearly two and a half months.

  If I had been hoping for something a little bigger and more romantic to happen between us—and, honestly, I’m not sure that I really was by this point—I was so caught up in my final preparations and the building excitement that it was easy to put my disappointment out of my mind and get swept up in the fun.

  •


  Stefani and Reagan had planned a last night out for me, which was a little weird since they were the only people who knew where I was actually going! Well, not where I was going, because even I didn’t know that; I mean they knew only that I was flying off to be on The Bachelor. It was literally a “Good-bye! We Don’t Know Where You’re Going” Party!

  I had invited Tye to my going-away party, but, of course, he didn’t come. That brought back all of the memories of me inviting him places, him not showing up, and the two of us then pretending that I had never asked him in the first place. But it was different now. I was getting used to the idea that he wasn’t going to be in my life for a while, and I managed to relax and have fun without him there.

  My girls and I went out to dinner, and then we went bowling. I was sad to leave my support group—the friends who had kept me as sane as I could be during my heartbreak—and enter this whole new world where I wouldn’t know anybody. I wasn’t sure I was emotionally strong enough to deal with life without them at this point.

  What if the Bachelor mansion was just a girls’ drama fest??

  I didn’t know if I had it in me to deal with any drama right now.

  But Stefani and Reagan were great. They kept pulling me aside so that the rest of the guests couldn’t hear them, so they could reiterate how cute Jason was, how many friends I was going to make, and how much fun I was going to have. At the end of the night, they gave me a photo album that was filled with pictures of the three of us.

  “Don’t forget us while you’re gone,” Stef said.

  I laughed. How could I possibly forget them? Plus, I was only going to be gone for two weeks, remember?

  But it was still hard to leave. I teared up, thinking about how many things and people I was going to miss when I left.

  Finally, I was able to push all of that sadness aside and focus on the positives when my mom drove me to Dallas Fort Worth International Airport the next morning. I knew that she and my dad still weren’t thrilled about my decision, so it meant a lot to me that they still made the effort to take me to the airport. They didn’t exactly send me off with a fireworks display or anything like that. But my mom was showing me her support, in her own way, and her parting words to me were very sweet as she hugged me good-bye.

  “Please take care of yourself,” she said. “Please remember us. And we’ll see you in a little bit.”

  I distinctly remember sitting on the plane, looking out the window, with this feeling that this was something I was really supposed to go and do. It had almost been too easy. There had been no hurdles for me to jump over. In fact, my boss, my parents, my roommate, my friends, and even Tye had all supported me in their own ways, and made it remarkably simple for me to go.

  I imagined what was about to happen to my life, and I got excited as I thought about living in a mansion, getting some sun, making new friends, meeting a guy, and living carefree for a little bit. A sudden feeling of peace and calm came over me, as I just sat and smiled.

  I have this strange feeling that today is going to change my life forever.

  And, little did I know just how right I was . . .

  five

  •

  THE BACHELOR BUBBLE

  Just like that, a completely new chapter in my life opened. As I was soon to learn, it wasn’t just my surroundings and my day-to-day life that had changed, but, really, everything about my reality. Not to mention the way that I thought about love, life, relationships, and, of course, myself.

  It was the beginning of a time that I now call the “Bachelor Bubble.” I entered a reality unlike any I had ever been in before. An environment that made me feel and act in ways I’d never imagined myself feeling or acting. But at the time, I was very naïve about this world, and so I thought of the whole process as such an innocent adventure.

  I flew into Los Angeles International Airport on a Monday, two days before filming was scheduled to begin. I had so many emotions running through my body. On one hand, I couldn’t wait to move into the mansion, make new friends, and just have some much needed fun. On the other hand, I couldn’t stop thinking about that blond-haired, blue-eyed boy back in Dallas. But still, I knew I needed to start a new chapter in my life, and what better time than now? I hadn’t spoken with anybody from the show since I’d met with the producers during the last round of auditions, and I had absolutely no clue what I was getting myself into. Oddly enough, I still wasn’t nervous; the mystery of it all was part of the excitement!

  When I landed at LAX, I walked downstairs to the exit and saw a chauffeur holding a sign with my name on it. That was a new experience for me.

  I’ve never had a driver before! LA is so glamorous!

  I was particularly impressed when, after I went down to baggage claim, a paparazzi photographer came scurrying over and started taking pictures of me. He literally chased me and my driver out into the parking lot. I couldn’t believe it!

  How do they know I’m a cast member? Is this what happens when you’re on the show?

  I assumed the attention had to be Bachelor related. Clearly, he had seen my name and known that I was in LA to film the show. I realized that this was going to be an even crazier experience than I had thought.

  When the photographer followed me to the car and forced me to slam the door on him, the driver looked impressed.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Even though I was excited, I knew better than to think I was some big deal.

  “I think he mistook me for somebody else,” I said. “Because I’m really nobody. Does this happen a lot here?”

  The driver then kindly explained another reason for the special attention, and it had nothing to do with me being an overnight celebrity. Apparently, there’s a special concierge at LAX who helps only celebrities with their bags, and for some unknown reason, that’s who had carried my luggage for me. Maybe he felt sorry for me when he saw me struggling with my two oversized suitcases. Who knows? But when the photographer saw the concierge with me, he must have assumed I was someone. He probably looked at his pictures later and felt sorry that he’d wasted the energy it took to snap them, because, of course, nobody knew or cared who I was at that point. Regardless, it was still a pretty cool way to start my trip! Definitely something to call home about!

  Heck, I just got paparazzi’d!

  We drove straight to my hotel, which I couldn’t tell you the location of if I tried. I’d never been to LA, except for The Bachelor audition, and I was actually a little disappointed by my first real view of the city. I don’t know if I thought there would be neon lights flashing everywhere, and the word Hollywood plastered all over everything, but my impression was that it was kind of average and looked like anyplace else in the world. There were buildings. There were cars. Really, LA was just another city. Except for the infamous Hollywood sign, which was really cool to see in person. And the wildfires!

  Let me just tell you, fire is my biggest fear in the world! I live right in the middle of Tornado Alley, and it doesn’t worry me at all. But fire, that’s a whole other story. And the day I arrived in LA, there happened to be wildfires raging outside the city.

  Great.

  My initial excitement about LA, which had started with the paparazzi, faded quickly as I smelled the woodsy, smoky fumes that permeated the air outside the car. The driver could tell I was a little nervous about the wildfires, and he did his best to reassure me that we’d be fine. But when I got out of the car at the hotel, it smelled like we were all going down in flames, and that really freaked me out. Call me a bit dramatic, but this was not the two-week vacation I thought I had signed up for!

  I had a lot of time by myself until the filming began. I stayed in a hotel, and had nothing to do but drown myself in all the thoughts running through my head. I could only go over the possible scenarios so many times, but I had fun imagining what could be. I would sit and practice what I would do the first time I stepped out of the limo. Maybe I would come out and be fun and spunky? Or maybe I wou
ld take the shy approach? Or maybe I would just focus on the walk from the limo to Jason and try not to trip.

  And then there was the ever important decision of wardrobe. What the heck was I going to wear to the first cocktail party? I had brought a couple options. I had the ever popular cocktail dress, if I decided to play the fun and spunky role. Or I had the long, formal gown if I decided to take a sophisticated approach.

  Who the heck am I kidding? Do I really care what I look like or what I’m wearing?

  Once I was done playing fantasy and dress up, I looked around my room, and it suddenly seemed very lonely and empty. Well, at least I had the TV, so I had that to keep me entertained. Well, let me be specific: I had the Disney Channel. That was it. I found myself highly engaged in a daylong Hannah Montana marathon.

  So there I was: alone in LA, watching Hannah Montana, and playing dress up with the clothes I had packed. Is this really the step up from the birthday at Medieval Times that I was looking for? Hmph. . .

  As anyone who’s ever been in a situation similar to this, being alone with your thoughts is a dangerous place to be. The more you think, the more your emotions change. I think I spanned the entire emotional spectrum in about three hours, with my thoughts mainly going back to my status with Tye.

  Even though I was feeling more and more self-sufficient by the day, there was still a part of me that wanted to check back in with him to see if my newfound independence had impressed him enough to want me back yet. He probably didn’t think I’d really go, and I did. Maybe now that I was gone, he missed me.

  I know, I know! I was a work in progress. Be patient with me. . .

  I couldn’t help myself. I called him. It was the middle of the day, so he was at work. He picked up, but he couldn’t talk. I told him that I would call him back later in the day, when I knew he’d be off work, because I had something important to ask him. He agreed, and we hung up. I was actually kind of glad he couldn’t really talk then; it gave me more time to think about how I was going to ask him what I needed to know.