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Authors: Kendra Wilkinson

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BOOK: Being Kendra
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Date nights don’t always go as smoothly as that. When we sneak off to a place like Vibrato, we know that’s our spot; it’s off the map and in a remote enough area that we aren’t going to run into TMZ and Paris Hilton. But sometimes we do want a little glitz and glam. Not to say we need to head off to the
Fast
and
Furious
premiere and pose for the cameras, but we like to check out shows and movies and concerts just like the rest of the world. As parents, we need our entertainment too. When all you’ve seen is a purple dinosaur talking on TV all day, a rap concert might be just what the doctor ordered.

Hank and I went to a club recently for a concert just looking to have a good time and it turned into the Kendra and Hank show. Usually when I go out people know who I am. It’s a fact, especially in L.A., a town obsessed with celebrity and media where everyone knows who is who. We went to the annual West Coast hip-hop show we go to every year to watch my friend Too $hort perform. I grew up on West Coast hip-hop; it’s in my blood. It’s a part of who I am. Anything to do with West Coast hip-hop, like Tha Dogg Pound, Westside Connection, Kurupt, Nate Dogg, Snoop Dogg. I’m obsessed. So I make sure I go to this every year. Too $hort had put us on the VIP list to hang out backstage, so I decided to invite my best friend, Brittany Binger, to come along. I don’t get enough time to be with Brittany and my husband, the two people I love so much in my life.

When we arrived at the club, I asked the bouncer for my stamp and my wristband. I always try to sit back backstage to enjoy the show in peace. I never sit in the crowd because we get heckled or asked to take photos or give autographs; that’s just the reality of being a celebrity.

But the bouncer recognized us and just let us straight in without giving us our stamps or wristbands. So we were backstage letting loose. Kurupt, one of my favorite artists, was rapping and Hank and I were just grooving and having a great time. After his performance we wanted to go over and hang out with him and a bunch of the other rappers. So we left our backstage area to say hello, but when we tried to go back, the guards that let us in before got on a power trip and wouldn’t let us in. We had been ushered in without wristbands, so when we left the VIP area and they asked us for wristbands, we didn’t have ours. So there we were, standing around surrounded by about a thousand people, and everyone started coming up to us to take our picture. “Oh shit, it’s Kendra!” When I hear that, I know it’s time to leave. All of a sudden we went from being just a few normal people watching a show to being “Hank and Kendra.” Everyone recognized us. I ended up taking pictures with people, signing autographs, and having to put on my happy face. I appreciate my fans but I was there to let loose and be myself, not greet fans.

It ended up being an appearance for me. It was supposed to be a night of fun with my husband and my best friend. It’s the same reason I got a dog walker in Philly; it’s just not worth it. There are certain freedoms that I just don’t have anymore. There are only a couple times in my life where I put my head down and I just want to be away from everyone and have fun for myself. You can call me selfish, but I’m not selfish 100 percent of the time. I didn’t want to take pictures with people, I wasn’t in the mood. A lot of celebrities will never tell you that, or they’ll have their publicist make up some lame excuse. But I have nothing to hide; I’m not always in the mood, plain and simple. It’s no different from letting a call go to voice mail because you aren’t in the mood to chat with someone at that very moment. We all feel that way sometimes. That’s the way it went on that night, so I ended up taking pictures with people and being miserable; I didn’t want to seem like an ungrateful bitch. It ended up not being a fun night for me. Ultimately, we smiled and did what we had to do and then left.

We didn’t let the night end there though. We had left baby Hank in Calabasas with Hank’s parents, which meant we had the night to ourselves at the apartment. After we parted ways with Brittany, we went out for a few drinks and we ended up having such a great time. We went back to the apartment in Studio City and we had uninterrupted date night sex, with no baby around! It was hard to break the habit of being quiet, but we realized, wait a minute, there’s no need! Of course, we still had neighbors and our apartment was so small that I felt like people were listening. I felt like people knew we lived there and if they heard moaning they’d know that was Kendra. It’s kind of like having your privacy invaded, the feeling of it. If someone who was next to us heard me moan, they’d be like, “Oh, my God, Kendra! Kendra’s an alien and she’s having sex. Listen to her, she’s an animal. I knew it!” But we made do.

C
raziest. Experience. Ever.

Confession: In all honesty I didn’t always love performing on
Dancing
with
the
Stars
. I loved being part of the show and cast, but the dancing took its toll. I did it mostly just for the experience, and, of course, the money! Both things were worth it, but it was barely enough for me to get out of the car each day and walk into the dance rehearsal (many times I just considered turning the car around and not doing it). I was psyched about joining the show, but once those intense practices started, I was knocked out pretty quickly.

Did I want to win? Sure! It’s always nice to win but it’s kind of like the lottery: You don’t expect to win and there’s not much control you have other than luck. Hank’s competitive though; he wanted the mirror ball trophy because guys love trophies.

I wasn’t holding my breath. I’ve never been a dancer. If you’re a dancer, you have it in your blood; that’s your sport. You eat (or rather, don’t), sleep, and bleed for dancing. Still though, I thought I was going to really love it—it’s moving to music and I love to get creative. Dancing
can
be fun, and I’ve had my share of amazing nights filled with hours of dancing at parties and clubs. I thought I was signing up for a fun little reality show of dancing. What I got was the most intense competition I’ve ever had to be a part of.

I used to always ask Hank, “How come you guys aren’t smiling more on the football field and having fun?” And he always told me that while football is fun, it’s mostly hard work, drive, and a lot of painful sweat. Dancing is fun.
Dancing
with
the
Stars
is hard work, drive, and a lot of painful sweat.

The first week of filming I thought, “Oh, my God, this is cool.” There were other celebrities I was getting to know. And I was getting into shape from the hours of rehearsals each day. Plus, I was learning a few things. But then by the second week I was well on my way to knowing it was going to be a long road. My body was in pain, my brain was twisted in three different directions from all of the moves I had to memorize, and my confidence was at an all-time low. By the third week I started to get the hang of things and realized my memory and physical ability weren’t all that bad. I was like, “Okay, I’m back up, I can handle this.” That’s basically how this competition went; depending on your scores, depending on your performances and practices and the amount of pain your body was in, you either loved it or hated it. The fourth week came and I got very frustrated, because you can’t really do what
you
want. You have to play into the show format of ballroom dancing. For someone like me who’s not always used to following rules, let alone being disciplined by a dance teacher, it was a recipe for dancing disaster.

Dancing is definitely something I do for fun, to let loose with friends, to have a good time. But it’s hard to have fun on the dance floor in front of twenty-three million people. I would get nervous and want to cry because I have the worst stage fright ever. I just haven’t found a cure for it yet either, despite trying recommendations from all of my friends. I’ve been in the business for almost ten years now; I’ve done things like rap in front of America on MTV’s
Celebrity
Rap
Superstar,
take off my clothes in
Playboy,
and star on TV shows. I had fun with it all, but I will never get over my fear of the stage, especially when it’s live.

If I went out there and it was
Softball
with
the
Stars,
I would have had the attitude of “Hell, yeah!” I would want to wake up every day and do it, because that’s my passion. Dancing in a club with a drink in my hand is me. Dancing around in full ballroom attire complete with makeup on
DWTS
is fun for one night, but going through the process every day became tedious. I secretly wanted to just for one night wear my own outfit, do my own makeup (or lack thereof), put on my own music, and do my own dance. I know that would have gotten me kicked off the show and the last thing I wanted to do was purposely forfeit. A few weeks into it, even though I was struggling, I knew I had a decent chance of making it far. So I put on the costumes and makeup and held my head high. If there had been judges scoring that, I would have gotten a 10.

I looked in the mirror once before going onstage and I just started to cry—I’m not even referring to the makeup and the hair. I looked at myself in the over-the-top costume with the big hair and heavy makeup and thought, “Is this where my career is going? Now I’m entertaining the world and getting all done up?” Part of me was excited and pumped; after all, they did choose me to be on the show, and week after week people were voting for me. But part of me felt like this is what selling out looks like. Maybe I just needed to buy into this after all. I was collecting a pretty good paycheck, which was a good thing for my family; making new friends; and whipping my body into shape, so my spirits were high, and each week I made it further was a little bit more of a push to get me motivated. And I needed the motivation, because other than childbirth I had never experienced such blood, sweat, and tears. Now I had blood on my feet, sweat all over my body, and tears pouring out of my eyes, and that was just after week one! I may not have been an actress, but on
Dancing
with
the
Stars,
I had to act like I was capable of doing it. Secretly, I didn’t think I was.

I was out of my element 100 percent but in a way that was good, because you got a chance to see different sides of me. I had to constantly think and challenge myself physically and emotionally. When I’m in my element I’m a little too comfortable.

I tried to be as energetic as possible on the show and not let my stage fright and unfamiliarity with some of the classic dances come through. I also knew that you have to have charisma and energy to make it on
DWTS
. Of course, it was often very difficult to keep a brave face on.

The night of week four, when it was the Viennese waltz, I got really low scores, my lowest yet. After the taping, the other celebs and dancers, plus my friends and family, tried to console me and offer different advice about what to do: “Don’t do that, do this. Don’t do this, do that.” I ended up crying because it’s overwhelming to have people call you on the phone and reach out a million different ways and say, “Are you okay?” At some point, you start to wonder, “Am I okay? Everyone’s acting like I’m not.” That’s one of the hard parts of being a celebrity: So many people around you are trying to give advice when you don’t ask. It’s not the critics, it’s not the mean people, it’s the people you care about the most who sometimes drive you insane.

If you think you can’t relate to this because you’re not a celebrity, try to think of it as if every day is your wedding day. Everyone’s a celebrity on their wedding day. On your wedding day, everyone wants you to be perfect. But perfection doesn’t exist. America wants their favorite celebrities to be so perfect and a lot of people have this perception that celebrities don’t sweat, that they don’t have acne, and that they don’t get hairs in weird places. On your wedding day, you try to pull that masquerade off. You’ve been on a diet for a couple of months. You’ve been shedding for the wedding and exercising, you’ve got your tan on, you’ve had a facial and several fittings to get the dress just right, you’ve got your hair did—you’re a celebrity! But what if you’re about to go down the aisle and one of your hairpins falls out and your hair falls down? You want to cry because it’s not perfect.

That’s the way I deal with my life. Then think of that moment after the wedding and imagine everyone there is like, “Oh, your hair looks good, but that’s a shame it didn’t stay up.” That’s not what you want to hear; you want to hear people say, “Oh, you’re beautiful.” Imagine something so little, so minor, something so small that went wrong and didn’t even matter, but people pointed it out on your wedding day. You just want to move on and forget about it, but everybody in the whole wedding wants to come up to you and talk about it. So you cry because it happened, but you’re not asking for sympathy. Crying is an expression of emotion. I cry a lot. I’m a perfectionist. If one little thing doesn’t go my way I’m going to be pissed about it. I don’t care what anybody has to say, that’s just the way I am.

It’s almost like I’m walking down the aisle in a wedding gown and I just have people staring at me all my life. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in magazine features about “stars without makeup!” News flash—I look like a mess when I wake up; sorry to disappoint! Or every time I have a little bloat the whole world thinks I’m pregnant. I know I’m not perfect and being a celebrity reminds me of that every day.

When
DWTS
originally asked me to go meet with them, I was like, “Okay, sure, why not?” People around me had always asked if I’d be interested if the opportunity came up. But I always said, “No, that’s not my style.” I equated
Dancing
with
the
Stars
with something you do when you want more fame or a reentry back into fame. But then you look at all of the pro athletes and dancing is certainly not something they are used to dominating, but they give it a shot. So that’s what I decided to do. The opportunity did come my way and it was the perfect time for me to grab it.

It was a quiet time in my schedule (aside from writing a book, filming a show, and taking care of my family), and Hank was in the off-season, so he could technically take care of the baby. So I went in and met with the casting director of
DWTS,
Deena Katz, and two other producers for the show. I dragged Eddie with me because I wanted him to hear the pitch from ABC and to be another ear for me.

Casting for a show like this seems like the celebrity version of a job interview, as if it’s no different from when you walk into Papa John’s and you have an interview with the manager and they tell you about the restaurant and you tell them about your job experience. Most people would go in and say, “Hi, I’m Kendra and I want to be on
DWTS
.” They want to hear what you have to say; they want to see your personality. Believe me, there’s no dancing involved in these interviews. But I knew better than to go in with that same plan. This was Hollywood, not Papa John’s. I walked in and I stated the facts they wanted to hear: “Let’s get down to business. My demographic rating is a 1.5 in the eighteen-to-thirty-four age bracket.” Yup, the first thing that came out of my mouth was my ratings, because that’s my knowledge of this business. If this was Papa John’s, I’d tell them how many pizzas I can make in an hour.

Then one of the producers asked, “Do you have any dance experience?” and I said, “Well, I know this isn’t ABC appropriate, but I did adult dancing, a.k.a. stripping, and I lived at the Playboy Mansion for five years, where I danced at a lot of parties! I’ve probably danced more than all the people on this show combined.” That summed everything up right there. I’m married, I have a son, I’m happy in life, I have a show already, so things are working out pretty good. Take me or leave me.

Too cocky? Well, this is Hollywood and I believe you can’t look desperate in this industry. I needed them to realize I was a commodity and I already had everything I wanted in life. They saw how confident I was and knew I could perform. I’m all about getting straight down to business. I wasn’t looking for friendship or a job. If they wanted a partnership, then it was a deal, at least on my end. So I left the meeting and the next thing I knew I got a call right away and they said, “You’re on
DWTS
.”

It always feels good to be wanted. While I wasn’t going into it to be a professional dancer, it was an honor to be on
DWTS
. You can’t get more exposure than on
DWTS
. I was like, “Why not? My fans will love it.” Sometimes I don’t even do it for me; sometimes I do it for the fans.

During my time on
Dancing
with
the
Stars,
Hank Jr. got to spend his days with Dad, and that’s a great thing in itself. To be able to have Hank and our son spend so much time together, we are a very lucky family. Hank was being Mr. Mom while I was on
DWTS
. It’s so crazy how many people think that’s weird. I want you to know something: Hank had the baby every day with little or no help. I don’t know a lot of dads in Hollywood who could handle that situation all by themselves. The only time we hired a babysitter was Monday nights when I was dancing, because Hank wanted to come and watch me. The rest of the time Hank had that baby. I think it’s hard for people to accept a father now in that role. When Hank is playing football, I have the baby. When I’m doing
DWTS,
Hank has the baby. It’s fair, it’s fifty-fifty. That’s how we look at life; it’s yin and yang. It’s all about balance.

When I first met my dance partner, Louis Van Amstel, they told me he was the dancer who had Kelly Osbourne in one of the seasons before me, and I thought, “I like her, she’s fun, so he must be cool and willing to start with a beginner.”

I had never watched the show, so I didn’t know Louis from Maks. They said, “His name is Louis and he’s the one that’s gay.” I was so relieved, like someone had lifted a hundred thousand pounds off my back, because I worried that Hank would be jealous or uncomfortable that I was grinding with a straight guy. Five days a week grinding with Maks—I can’t imagine Hank would have been happy with that. I said, “I’m so happy I got the gay one! That’s awesome,” but Louis gave me a look when he heard that! He took it the wrong way. I was happy he was gay because I’m a target of tabloid speculation, and magazines are always trying to say I cheated or Hank cheated. So there wouldn’t be any issues there. But it started off awkward because I said that.

BOOK: Being Kendra
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