6th January 2006 - I'm in Celebrity Big Brother

Well, if you are reading this now, you probably know that I am actually in Celebrity Big Brother. I am writing this on Tuesday the 3rd Jan but I have asked Jordan to upload it onto my site on Friday the 6th so hopefully that is the date now as you are reading it (if all went to plan and Jordan did manage to upload it successfully).



Regardless of what date it is and when I wrote it anyway (I think you get the gist of the fact that I wrote it before I went into the Big Brother house), the main thing I want to do is apologise for either lying to you (if you are somebody that knows me personally) or for just not telling you that I was doing CBB. Obviously it was written into the contract that I couldn't tell anyone (including immediate friends and family). I have been telling all my close friends that I am off to America to see Jordan Knight (which they all believed - again people I'm so sorry! I'm actually surprised you didn't clock on anyway as I'm so crap at lying!).



Right now I am terrified. When I say terrified, I mean terrified to the point that I haven't slept for a week, I can't eat properly, I feel nauseous (I've been gagging constantly throughout the day), I haven't been able to think properly (in fact I've been walking around like a Zombie for a week), I have been so stressed, I've given myself migraines. That TERRIFIED!



After turning down the likes of Love Island and I'm a Celebrity (and not even giving Big Brother a second thought as I have never been offered it before), I had always thought I would never do a show that involved sitting around doing nothing like the above mentioned. I did The Games (cos it was for charity and I got given a personal trainer for 4 months - joy!) and I did Trust Me I'm a Holiday Rep cos I'd always thought that if I hadn't ended up doing what I'm doing now, it is probably what I would have ended up doing and I wanted to try my hand at it. Also, I was paid to work in Cyprus for 2 weeks - not bad if you can get it! Big Brother, however, is a weird one. I've never really watched it until the one that Kenzie was in. From the first moment I watched it, I was hooked. Not just on BB, but on Kenz. His personality had me gripped and actually it was in the middle of an episode that I said to my dad "I want to be with him!". I fell for him on screen and was going out with him a week after he came out of the show. Alas, our relationship didn't last, but we remain extremely close. I love him like a brother and we speak at least once a week on the phone (I normally see him once a week as well). BB did wonders for Kenzie. Everyone got to see how amazing he is and got to know the real him. Until then, unless you were a Blazing Squad fan, you probably didn't even know who he was. Now, he has gone on to do well with Friday Hill and is enjoying the love from his newly-made fans. He already had a good career ahead of him and doing BB has made it even better.



Now, for me, I too, have a good career. It is still going as strong for me as the day I stepped out in the army belts and was front page of 3 national newspapers. Most of my income comes from TV work, appearances and photo-shoots. I enjoy what I do, no, in fact, I LOVE what I do. It's something I've wanted since I was 5 years old (and grew to want even more desperately when I was bullied at school for being ugly). Throughout my teenage years, I was rejected time and time again by modelling agencies and newspapers that I sent my pictures to. I didn't give up though, and after a stint as a lap-dancer at Stringfellows, and with renewed confidence, I finally made it to where I am now. However.......



What I didn't know (or perhaps "realise or think about" is a better way to put it) about being famous is that you put yourself up to be abused, criticised and slated for everything you do, say or wear. I stupidly and naively assumed that if you were a nice person then people would like you. Not so. I have been slated for pretty mush every aspect of my whole life since becoming known. I have been called "ugly", "a slapper", "a minger", "a freak", "trashy", "trampy", "thick", "pointless", "a bimbo", "without class or style", "hideous" and "vile". My boobs have been described as being like "spaniels ears" or "saggy" just because they are real and don't touch my chin like silicone ones. My face alone has been described as "hideous", "ugly", "deformed" and "scary" to name a few. My nose (which I broke playing hockey at school) has been described as "vile", "bent", "scary", "deformed", "misshapen", "a monstrosity" etc etc. Every inch of my body has been scrutinised by those who have delighted in pointing out my cellulite repeatedly. I have been made to look like I don't have a brain, I'm cheap and useless, I don't do anything good and I have no talent, personality or skills. I've even been called a "bully" (the most hurtful of the lot) for having a go back at the people who abuse me on a daily basis!!!!! I have been slated for wearing a "Bollocks to Poverty" top (which I was asked to wear by the Charity who designed it) when I hosted an event for Action Aid, I have been accused of using my best friend's murder to gain publicity for myself (I only gave interviews in her memory to not let her death go un-noticed and be just another statistic, with her mum's full knowledge and consent and all money made went into a trust fund for her baby, who was ten weeks old when she was killed). It has been written that my brown hair doesn't suit me and I should "leave that look to Angelina" (even though it's my natural colour). I have been in the "blinging" section of a magazine's "minging or blinging" section only one time that I recall in three years of being in "minging". If I do go out wearing normal nice clothes (which is actually quite often), the pictures don't ever seem to get printed. I have been called "ugly", or something very similar, publicly by Ulrika Johnson, Jade Goody, Gary Bushell, Goldie-Looking Chain, Jordan, Elize Du Troit, Michelle Heaton and Nadia from BB (people who at the time of calling me ugly were also in the public eye - so should have known better - but also, who had never met me, apart from Jordan) and these are only the ones I can remember off the top of my head at 4o'clock in the morning as I write this. I have been accused of being an attention-seeker (when I don't even go to a quarter of the red carpet things I am invited to), I have been accused of showing flesh to get in newspapers (if you look at the pictures in my autobiography, you will see that I have been dressing the way I do since I was 15 years old - I didn't get famous til I was 23). I have been written about nicely so few times that I actually remember each and every one of the articles (no matter how small) and the journalists names that wrote them and I beat Christina and J-Lo one year for column inches - that's a hell of a lot of nasty press when you think about it! I have been publicly humiliated over and over again. I have had days where I can't get out of bed because I have been so depressed. I have been laughed at and mocked for three whole years. It is as bad as, if not worse than the bullying I suffered at school (and I wanted to kill myself over that). All of the above nasty things have been written in every magazine and newspaper, they have been written all over the internet and they have even been said to my face on many an occasion (from a drunk guy outside a nightclub to a sober girl yelling insults in my local High Street).



After three years of it and three years of loving what I do, but hating the abuse and being depressed behind closed doors, I've had enough. I physically can't take any more. The way I feel right now is that, if it's going to be like this for me forever; I'd rather not do this job anymore. There is only so mush abuse a person can take and although up until now I have tried to be as thick-skinned as a rhino (and nearly got there), just recently I have come to realise that nobody can be expected to hear and see all of these nasty things about themselves and not feel like they are going insane or want to curl up and hide from the whole world. If you think I am being dramatic or over the top here - think again. Try and put yourself in my shoes. Imagine what it feels like to read abuse about yourself or be shouted abuse at in the street EVERY day for three years. It's vile. It's more than vile, it's soul-destroying. Sometimes I feel like I'm going mad, sometimes I cry, sometimes I get angry, sometimes it doesn't bother me at all and I rise above all of it but one thing remains consistent: every day without fail I think to myself "Is it ever going to be good?" . I'm ashamed to admit, that when people approach me in the street or in a bar or wherever, I'm scared and nervous of what they are going to say. The reason for that is that half the people are nice and half the people are vile. Because I am scared and nervous, I often act coldly towards them and it's only after they've said something nice that I loosen up and am able to chat to them. Until then, I am sure people who meet me think I am cold and rude. It's really not cos I don't want to talk to anyone that I act this way; it is simply because I have had so many people be rude to my face and say nasty things that I seem to always expect the worst now.



So, it is now crunch time. Judgement Day. Make or break. Like I said, I don't know if I can carry on doing this job if it's going to be this abusive forever. I don't want to let these people beat me but I don't know if I have the strength or energy or will to fight them anymore. I started my own blog to try to fight them (at the very least I get to set straight the lies, voice my opinion and let people see the REAL me on it) - even that didn't work! I now have a spate of internet forums slagging me off even more for being honest in my blogs every day. No matter what I do, I can't win. I even got turned down by Childline when I offered to do a tour of schools giving talks on bullying to the kids because "I didn't have the right image" due to what the papers were saying about me (full story in my book). At times, I couldn't even use my fame to help other kids that wanted to kill themselves, like I once did, because the press were making me look so vile. Ok, lets look at the facts, because I KNOW that there will be people reading this going "yeah but you ask for it, wearing all those skimpy outfits". Well, if I was tall enough or beautiful enough to be a cat-walk model, I would have been. If I could sing or play an instrument as well as my brother, I would have done what he is doing. If I had been lucky enough to make it as an actress, I would have done that too. Instead, I am 5ft 2" with the same curves as my mum (which, by the way, I AM proud of) and an outrageous and daring dress-sense. I only ever had a figure for glamour modelling, not cat-walk, and after going to every audition and casting under the sun and never being picked, I was happy to eventually get somewhere.



The outfits I wear are partly to do with my job (they help me to be noticed and make people talk about me) and partly to do with the fact that I have always wanted to stand out and be different in a sexy and fun way. Every time I go out, I treat it like I'm going to a fancy dress party (it's mush more fun that way) and I dress to please myself. When I went to the Dodgeball premiere (pic on back of my book) in bra, knickers, fishnet tights etc, I had decided I wanted to look like a Pussycat Doll for the night (at the time, the Pussycat Dolls weren't really known over here, they were just a very sexy all-girl dance troup in America). I put together an outfit that most resembled what they wore on stage and I loved it. I didn't go out in bra and knickers because I'm a slag or any other hideous reason that someone might have come up with. In the same way a normal person on the street might go and buy a pair of skinny jeans cos they've seen them on Sienna Miller and want to copy her style, I, for one night, wanted to look like a Pussycat Doll, as I thought they were all gorgeous.



I could go on forever about why I do the things I do and I could still be called a "liar" and other nasty things. The true fact of it is that I have and always will be different to everyone around me. I have never followed fashion (preferring to make up my own) and I have done nothing illegal (apart from last week when I took my mini-moto out on the road - see gallery).



I don't want pity, I don't want praise. I just want to be given a fair ride and for people to stop being so nasty. All of these things are what have made me agree to go on CBB. Right now, I feel like it is the only way to reach out to the masses and show them that I'm nothing like what I have been portrayed to be for the last 3 years. I feel like I have nothing to lose by going on it and it is the only option left for me to be given a fair trial (short of changing my whole identity and moving abroad).



Yes, I have cellulite. Yes, my boobs droop a bit as they are not made from silicone. Yes, my nose is wonky and slightly on the large side. Yes I use sun-beds, which I know are not good for you, but I feel better with a tan. Yes my teeth are veneers but a TV show offered to pay the twenty grand it cost to get them done and I love them. Yes, my lips are really thin but I have a phobia of needles, otherwise I'd get them done too. Yes my voice is annoyingly deep but I can't help that. Yes, my hair is helped along with extensions and yes they fall out everywhere and annoy people but I love the way they look and hate my own thin hair. Yes, I get spots like everyone else and yes, I have love-handles. I am not stunningly beautiful. I know all of these things. Without make-up I feel as minging as people say I am (that comes from years of being bullied for my looks and also from honestly thinking that I do look better with a bit of slap). I can be annoying as I am so highly opinionated and I can be hell on earth for everyone around me when I'm depressed. But, I am also a hyper-active, fun, caring, kind, thoughtful, diplomatic young woman who wants to live life to the full and enjoy as mush of it as possible as I truly think that life is way too short.



All I ask is this: if you like me on CBB, then please vote for me. The money from the phone calls goes to my charity and I REALLY really don't want to be out first!!!!! Give me a chance. If CBB edit me to look like a total bitch or weirdo then fair enough - I'll probably want to slit my wrists for a bit, until I pick myself up and either move abroad or stay here and go back for a second round of mental battering from all around me. I don't know what's going to happen in there. There could be people I don't get on with, there could be people that are so mad, they make me look boring. All I do know is this: I will be honest and I will be myself throughout. I don't have a game plan, I haven't got a clue what the public will even want from me. I can only treat it like the TV show that it is and I will either love it or hate it. My friends will now be taking over my blog for me for the next week or three depending on what happens. I might be chucked out after a day anyway so all this writing might be pointless.



I hope you enjoy the show and I hope you understand why I am doing it. I have never been so scared in my whole life as what I am right now. It's only a TV show, I know, but to me, with such a huge point to prove, it's mush, mush more.



I will now leave you in the capable hands of my friends and family for a bit.

Lots and lots of love (and happy viewing)



Jodie



xxxxx