Soldier’s Girl Premiere

Friday, May 23, 2003

Categories: Diary • Favorites

* Well, it finally came. Tonight was the Hollywood premiere of SG. After all these years of insanity. From the beautiful days of knowing Barry, to the terrible times after they took him away. The years of uncertainty and struggle and learning and change. When I met Barry I was just a showgirl, at the top of my game in Nashville, Tennessee, but really out of my league in most areas of life off-stage. My life has changed so much since 1999. Barry has never stopped giving me gifts: compassion, acceptance, and that little extra nudge of self-confidance that has allowed me to hang on and become whoever I am now.
* The premiere was at the Motion Picture Academy, and it was sold out. Showtime was kind enough to send a black limousine to pick Andrea and me up. I wore another of my homemade dresses and simple makeup, with my hair up in a retro twist of curls again. By now I had been living this story 2 months short of four years, which is far far too long to live it in the public eye. In my heart I felt like this premiere and event was a personal commemoration of my return to normal life, away from being a woman whose image and persona were equated with tragedy. I went into it with a sort of battle-weary hope for days ahead where people would not look at me with sadness anymore, and for days where Barry was a personal memory in my heart rather than one worn on my sleeve.
* Of course I will never forget Barry, or block out the things that happened. As before, I feel this story is important, and I will continue to speak about it when necessary. I still have a few interviews this week, for example. But the big events are behind me.
* I could not watch the movie, so after the preliminary introduction, Andrea and I slipped out to wait in the downstairs reception area. There were tables and tables of fabulous, complicated desserts, so I poured a cup of black coffee and gathered a plate of a few tiny tarts that looked like doll-sized pies, complete with decoration. I ate them in silence, in the huge banquet room with mirror walls, in my evening gown and heels. Then people started to come…
* I had some nice distratcing conversation with some wonderful people from Showtime. The hour passed and then the movie let out. Throngs of men and women came down the grand staircase and before I had even thought to set down my coffee cup, I had begun talking to and comforting people in tears from the story. I had many hugs, and little old ladies gripping and squeezing my hands and speaking in heavily accented English and german. I met two beautiful African women who were a couple, and so many many other people I can’t begin to describe them all. For quite some time it was just a long line of people who needed a hug and a comforting word. I am always moved by the empathy people feel when they see the film.
* When it was all over, Andrea and I got back into the car and went out for a cup of coffee and some cooling off conversation with friends. Within an hour I couldn’t go on another moment and we whisked away home in the long black car and I fell right into bed and did not wake up for a very long time.