My Reality Read online

  I decided to tell my story to share what I’ve been through and how it shaped me into the person I am now, which is really the person I was all along. Only I didn’t have the confidence back then to realize it. I want to remind people that good times will be here again, even if it’s hard to see that from the midst of a heartbreak. Believe me, I know the hardest thing to hear when you’re heartbroken is that “time will heal all.” But it’s important to look back at the bad times and acknowledge them for the role they played in inspiring the kind of big, scary—ultimately necessary—life changes we all need to make in order to get to the good times.

  —from my reality

  After the final rose. . .

  Melissa Rycroft captured hearts across America when she won—and lost—The Bachelor on one of the most watched nights in the show’s history. As Jason Mesnick stunned her on national television by breaking off their engagement, fans cried along with her at the devastating news. Then, one week after the show aired, she did the unthinkable. She picked herself up, waltzed her way onto ABC’s wildly popular Dancing with the Stars, and wowed the judges. The former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader with the infectious smile and sweet personality instantly became the poster child for moving on.

  Melissa endured what so many other women have been through in the search for Mr. Right. Every girl who has ever fallen for the wrong guy, believed she wasn’t good enough, or had to pick herself up after facing rejection, could relate. Melissa proved that it is possible to get over a failed relationship, that things will get better, that you can find happiness within yourself.

  The truth is, it took a lot of heartache—and some hard lessons—for Melissa to find her independence. And it began with a breakup (her worst breakup ever) months before she was even a Bachelor contestant. As she wondered whether she was destined to be the girl who always got dumped, her friends conspired to sign her up for the show. The ensuing emotional roller coaster and the confidence she gained ultimately led her to a happy ending. Dreams do come true when you’re willing to be your own fairy godmother.

  In this endearing and inspirational memoir, Melissa shares her upbeat and unconventional Cinderella story, how she went from being the girl who was always unlucky in love to finding the love of her life. She takes fans on the set of The Bachelor and writes candidly about what she was really thinking when she was living in the “Bachelor Bubble” and when Jason told her he was in love with another woman. Finally, she offers a glimpse of life after the show—what it was like to become famous overnight, endure the grueling but fun Dancing with the Stars schedule, land her dream job as an entertainment reporter . . . and uncover all the surprises that awaited her when she finally got back to reality.

  MELISSA RYCROFT was a contestant on the thirteenth season of ABC’s The Bachelor. A former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, she and her partner, Tony Dovolani, finished third on Dancing with the Stars, after she was sidelined by an injury. In 2009, People selected her for its coveted “World’s Most Beautiful People” issue. She has appeared as an entertainment reporter on Entertainment Tonight and The Insider, cohosted The Bachelor Pad with Chris Harrison, and is a special correspondent for Good Morning America. Melissa lives in Dallas, Texas, with her husband, Tye Strickland, and their daughter, Ava Grace.

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  • THE SOURCE FOR READING GROUPS •

  JACKET DESIGN BY MICHAEL NAGIN

  JACKET PHOTOGRAPH BY JAMES ACOMB

  COPYRIGHT © 2011 SIMON & SCHUSTER

  MY

  REALITY

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  Copyright © 2012 by Melissa Rycroft

  This work is a memoir. Events, actions, and experiences and their consequences over a period of years have been retold as the author presently recollects them. Some names and identifying characteristics have been changed, and some dialogue has been recreated from memory.

  Photo insert credits:

  Page 1: Natalie Woods; page 2: Natalie Woods (top), Daniel Costilla (bottom); page 3: Robin DeHoyos (top), Ashley Smith (bottom); page 4: Tye Strickland (bottom); page 5: Michelle Mix; page 8: Laura Parker (top left). All other photos courtesy of the author.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

  First Gallery Books hardcover edition June 2012

  GALLERY BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

  Designed by Jaime Putorti

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Rycroft, Melissa.

  My reality / Melissa Rycroft. — 1st Gallery

  Books hardcover ed.

  p. cm.

  1. Rycroft, Melissa 2. Television personalities—United

  States—Biography. 3. Celebrities—United States—Biography. I. Title.

  PN1992.4.S793A3 2011

  791.4502’8092—dc22

  [B]

  2011012506

  ISBN 978-1-4516-3163-0

  ISBN 978-1-4516-3165-4 (ebook)

  This is dedicated to the newest love of my life: my daughter, Ava.

  Looking at her makes everything that’s happened on my journey to finding love absolutely worth it. She’s the epitome of my happiness, and I would go on this whole crazy, heartbreaking journey again, if she were the outcome.

  I love you, Ava Grace.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE: My Worst Breakup Ever

  CHAPTER TWO: The Waiting

  CHAPTER THREE: Breakup Purgatory

  CHAPTER FOUR: I Think It’s Time for You to Go Now

  CHAPTER FIVE: The Bachelor Bubble

  CHAPTER SIX: Life in the Bubble

  CHAPTER SEVEN: In Love . . . and Out of Control

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Fighting for Love

  CHAPTER NINE: “Stricktly” Platonic

  CHAPTER TEN: After the Final Rose

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: Back to the Beginning Again

  CHAPTER TWELVE: Going Public

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A Totally Surreal Experience

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Dream Job

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Dreams Really Do Come True

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: My Real Happy Ending

  Photographs

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  I’m the girl who gets her heart broken. I don’t know what it is about me, but that’s how it’s always been. And, let’s be honest, that’s how a lot of people still know me.

  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The entire world watched what it assumed was me getting my heart smashed on TV’s The Bachelor. All of my previous relationships ended almost as badly. Call me unlucky, not the relationship type, or just not the sustainable-relationship type—whatever it was, I definitely was not good at the dating game.

  So I was totally surprised when people started coming up to me after The Bachelor to ask me for romantic advice
. I couldn’t figure out why in the world they’d want help from the girl who historically never got the guy. Sure, my dating life has a happy ending now, and I’m married to a man who is my soul mate and best friend, but a lot of people don’t know that. Some people who do know still can’t picture me with anyone but Jason Mesnick. And, again, we all know how well that ended—or at least appeared to end, which I’ll get to in a bit.

  But then it clicked: People weren’t after the secrets of a successful relationship (if they were, I’d have to direct them to someone more qualified to help!), they were looking for advice on what to do when things DON’T work out. And that’s a subject I definitely know something about.

  Maybe reading my story can stop some of you out there from doing the same things I did wrong. Most of all, I lost my sense of self. And I do know, without a doubt, that I had to finally find my real and true self before I could ever be in a healthy relationship. I think the same is probably true for everyone else.

  Of course, the problem is that lovesick people aren’t much for taking advice. I know that better than anyone. I look back at the girl I used to be, and I can’t help laughing at her: You are making every mistake in the book, girl. You are doing everything wrong. It almost seems like you are TRYING to ruin this relationship. Why not just hand him your heart and a hammer?

  But I couldn’t see the truth back then.

  People who watched The Bachelor think they know what I went through on the show and during its aftermath. Because it’s called a reality TV show, they assume it’s the real story. But the reality that people saw was not the reality of my life—or even of the show! Actually, I’ve gone through a ton more, some worse than what you’ve seen, and some better.

  As I’ve always said, the best writers in the world couldn’t have dreamed up my story; it’s too unbelievable. That’s why I’m finally ready to tell it like it really was. By sharing my reality with all of you, maybe—just maybe—it’ll help those of you out there to avoid, or at least get over, the kind of soul crushing heartbreaks I endured. Because if I could spare you from the kind of pain I went through, I certainly would.

  MY

  REALITY

  one

  •

  MY WORST BREAKUP EVER

  As the girl who was always unlucky in love, I’ve got several breakup stories to choose from when it comes to finding that one defining moment—the one when you feel like you’ve hit the lowest of the low; the proverbial rock bottom. My Bachelor breakup may be my most famous and most humiliating romantic ordeal but it’s not the worst one I’ve ever been through. Yes, there is actually something worse than having an engagement ring taken back by the man who gave it to you, while he tells you that he has feelings for another woman, who he’s been talking to behind your back . . . ALL on national television.

  By far, my worst breakup—the one that hurt the most and is also, literally, the reason I am who I am and where I am today—actually happened before I was even a contestant on The Bachelor.

  It took place in March 2008, just shy of my twenty-fifth birthday. It started out like most breakups do. Whether they’re the ones we’ve experienced ourselves, or the ones we’ve seen in a million romantic comedies, the problem always seems to be the same: There’s a big—and I mean a BIG—difference between the girl’s point of view and the guy’s point of view. And just guess who was more serious about the relationship in my case? Well, here’s a clue: How many guys ever want to have the talk? Right.

  I’d been dating my boyfriend, Tye Strickland, for about a year, and I had that gut feeling that he was the one. The problem was, he didn’t know the same thing about me. In fact, he didn’t seem to know whether he was that serious about dating me at all. I could sense this, and I was terrified of scaring him away. So when it came to talking about our relationship, we just didn’t. We never had the talk about our status. I never pushed to take things further and never put any pressure on the relationship. I’d think, Hey, if he wants to keep this light and casual—after a YEAR . . . I’m okay with that.

  Yeah. Sure I was.

  I tried to be casual, even though I wasn’t feeling that way. I really did.

  Sometimes, I guess, it’s just easier to be delusional than to face reality.

  •

  Things had been amazing at the start (as most relationships are at the beginning). He was so cute and sweet, and we had so much fun together. I’d always leave him smiling, which, for a girl, is the best sign that you’ve found someone great.

  We had so much in common. When we met, one of the first things we noticed about each other was that we each wore a small cross around our necks as a symbol of our faith, which was very unusual in our circle of friends. We had both grown up in Dallas and were very close to our families. Our parents were still married, and we believed in the importance of making a lifetime commitment to someone when we were older (in Tye’s case, WAY older). We saw our parents often (and brought each other home to meet our families fairly early on). We loved football, particularly the Dallas Cowboys. The fact that I was a Cowboys Cheerleader and that he had friends associated with the cheerleaders meant that much of our lives revolved around the games. We had similar senses of humor and could make each other laugh for hours. It was all going great.

  And then, six months in, being a hopeless romantic, the inevitable happened: I fell in love with him. I didn’t mean to. I actually didn’t even know that I had at the time. It just . . . happened. And not only was he NOT in love with me, he didn’t even know if he wanted a girlfriend. And, while I knew he really liked me, he was just fine fitting me into his busy schedule of working, working out, and hanging out—around the clock—with his group of completely inseparable (and, yes, single) buddies.

  I didn’t want to admit it—not to him and not to myself—but I wasn’t getting what I needed. After several months of hanging on as best as I could, it finally hit me how deeply unhappy I was. As with most things, there was one clarifying moment that changed everything.

  I literally remember it like it was yesterday. House of Blues had just opened a new venue in Dallas, and I had been talking for months about how much I wanted to go check it out. Tye kept telling me that we’d go together soon, since he knew how badly I wanted to go. It was definitely one date that I was looking forward to with him.

  One Friday, I texted Tye from work, like I always did, and asked him what he was up to that night. At first, he gave me his typical answer: “I don’t know yet.” Shocking: He didn’t have plans. He didn’t ask what I was doing, which was also typical.

  Now, from here, I know how bad this looks, so just bear with me for a minute. Not only had he not asked me out for a date that night, but he also still wouldn’t commit to hanging out with me, even when he didn’t have any other definite plans. In my warped little mind, as far as I was concerned, he hadn’t said that he did not want to hang out with me, he’d just said that he didn’t know what he was doing. Right? So there was still hope that we’d end up seeing each other before the night was through (especially if I just “happened” to end up where he was hanging out, which was my MO). I know, I know, but keep in mind that this is the before section of my story.

  When I got done with work, I went out to dinner with some of my girlfriends who were fellow Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. It was a great night out with my friends, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Tye and wondering what he was up to. So I sent him a text message:

  “What are you doing?”

  No response.

  I waited for what seemed like an ample amount of time to send another text message. (Five minutes is ample time, right?)

  “Where are you?”

  Again, no response.

  Hmmm . . .

  Now, looking back, I know Tye’s initial lack of response was a clear signal, but I couldn’t resist sending the second text! He’s my flippin’ boyfriend! Don’t I have a right to ask what he’s doing on a Friday night? And why doesn’t he want to know what I’M doing? H
eck, why doesn’t he want to be with me right now?!?

  And then it happened. He texted back!

  “I’m going to the House of Blues with the guys.”

  Are you kidding me??

  I couldn’t believe it! He had gone and made plans without me to do the ONE thing that he knew I REALLY wanted to do! Suddenly, I felt my cheeks heat up and my heart begin to race as it hit me how little he cared, or even thought about my feelings . . . not just my feelings, but me!! And, just like that, after months of denial, I was finally mad. Not upset. Not bummed. Furious. I was done. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed something to happen, good or bad. THAT NIGHT. And so I took matters into my own hands.

  I sat through the rest of dinner, trying to act like everything was normal. But I was too busy formulating my plan of attack to pay attention to the conversation at the table. And the more time that passed, the angrier I got. A wonderful state of mind to be in when you’re about to confront the person you love. . . .

  When I left the restaurant, I didn’t tell any of the girls where I was going or what I planned to do. I knew they would have tried to talk me out of it, and I didn’t want anything to stand in my way. Not that there was anything that anybody could have said or done that would have stopped me anyhow. I was an irrational girl on a mission.

  I went over to Tye’s house. I knew I was pulling the psycho-girl move, even while I was doing it. But I had reached that point where I was way beyond any kind of rational discussion or thought. I guess that’s why the word “psycho” applies.

  I got to Tye’s condo around midnight. He had given me a key because I was always in and out of there, and so I let myself in and waited for him to get home.

  And I waited.

  And I waited.

  The more I waited, the angrier I got. I sat on his bed and listened for him to come in the door. I didn’t call any of my girlfriends. I didn’t pull out my makeup and primp. I just sat there quietly and waited to have my say. I was nervous; my heart was beating a mile a minute. And I was upset, and hurt, and angry. But I wasn’t crying. Everything had suddenly become very clear in my mind and in my heart.