Finding Sarah

by Sarah Ferguson

  Howard J. Rubenstein, a New York public relations consultant who coincidentally represented both me and Weight Watchers, invited me and Al Lippert, the founder of Weight Watchers, to a dinner party. I had recently slimmed down by more than fifty pounds from the 203 pounds that earned me the stinging “Duchess of Pork” label from the British press. Everything clicked. I was offered, and later signed, a one-year contract with executives of the H. J. Heinz Company, Weight Watchers’ owner. One of those executives was Sir Anthony O’Reilly, Heinz’s Dublin-born former CEO.

  It could not have come at a better time. Sir Anthony and Howard saved my life. There’s no question about it. I would jump off a bridge for them. I really would.

  I ended up working for Weight Watchers for twelve proud years. The position gave me discipline in my life and helped me reverse my desperate financial situation. Of course I was widely and unfairly criticized in Britain for it all, when in truth I was just a simple single mother with a love for her work, an entrepreneur, trying to make ends meet.

  Unfortunately, I continued to spend money to help other people. I donated every penny I could to charity. I enjoyed my money by using it to ease the plight of others, and I had no conception of how damaging to my own life that would be. Looking back, I see this as another form of people-pleasing—the same behavioral pattern, only in a different design. I was generous to a fault.

  Even so, I plodded into the future, still spending money and helping people with their finances. Had I overcome these habits back then, I would not have been in the sorry financial position I found myself in by 2010. There I was again, in middle age, in chronic terror, and in the same predicament, only worse. Instead of building a life, I was living in a rut, in debt, with no money to speak of.

  Where had the money gone this time?

  My slow drift into insolvency stemmed from the collapse of my company, Hartmoor, which I’d set up in 2006. Located in an office building on Madison Avenue in Manhattan, Hartmoor was intended as a vehicle to market my career in publishing, media, and public speaking. I funneled $1.4 million of my own savings into the business, including earnings from producing the film The Young Victoria and profits from my children’s books. A percentage of sales was set to go to the Sarah Ferguson Foundation. I had great hopes when Hartmoor launched, chirping to an interviewer that I intended it to be “a global inspirational lifestyle and wellness company.”

  Although I owned 51 percent of Hartmoor, I had partners whom I trusted to manage the business, but we weren’t successful. Hartmoor incurred expenses that were far greater than the revenue it generated. There were high-priced salaries to pay, pricey offices to maintain. The debts were rising faster than floodwater through a broken levee. I protested, but no one would listen to my pleas to manage the company with better fiscal responsibility.

  Hartmoor’s struggles coincided with the end of my contract with Weight Watchers in 2008. In the end, Hartmoor was a loser and ceased operating in May 2008. I took out a $1.7 million personal loan to repay creditors, and in return regained the rights to my own name. The upshot of my legal wrangling was a bill of more than $1.4 million.

  By June 2010, I was on the brink of bankruptcy, with barely nine hundred dollars to my name. I found myself living the same nightmare my mother had endured at the end of her life, and I was terrified that I’d become just like her.

  To save myself financially, I looked and looked and looked for help but to no avail. I was bent and about to break. I realized after the Fake Sheikh incident that I had been on a treadmill, walking fast to nowhere. For many years, I had worked flat out to pay the salaries for my special and loyal staff, many of whom stayed in the trenches and mopped up my tears.

  A call came in from the Duke’s office: “If you wish to have financial help from the Duke, you will have to make your staff redundant.” I felt desperate. I had no choice but to accept the offer and lay off my staff. I was finished, washed up. I surrendered.

  The last person to drive off was Helen Jones, who for years had stayed by my side, casting a watchful eye over me, always making my life better. She gave me all her love and care, energy and light. Now she was gone. I had let her and everyone else down. All of these emotions fueled my self-hatred.

  I needed to understand what drives my behavior when it comes to money—what money means to me, what it signifies about me, how it makes me feel when I spend or save it. That would be a key to my well-being, financial and otherwise. I had to stop committing financial suicide.

  My guide on this part of my journey was Suze Orman, the tough-talking financial guru seen every week by millions on television. She and her partner K.T. arrived by black cab at Royal Lodge to meet with me.

  I gave them a quick tour of the Lodge and its grounds. When I showed Suze my bedroom, she was taken aback by all the cuddly stuffed animals I have on my bed.

  “You’ve got to get rid of all those toys. That is childlike, and you shouldn’t be a child anymore,” she said.

  I just laughed it off, with no intention of clearing the bed of my lovely stuffed animals. Suze did like the fact that I am fond of Ganesh, the Hindu god who is the remover of obstacles. She is as well, and she liked the fact that I have a lot of Ganeshes around my home.

  As we chatted on about my financial issues, Suze had a big “aha” moment: “You don’t have a money problem; you have a self-worth problem. Your so-called money problem comes from buying approval from everyone.”

  Suze Orman proclaiming that I had no money problem was, well, revelatory—and it certainly lightened my load. But, of course, she was right: My own feelings of lack of worth had precipitated my overspending on friends and family. Suze helped me see how self-worth issues were the engine that pulled the train of my financial problems.

  The three of us bonded immediately, and I knew I had made two new friends.

  We met again in New York City and got down to business at warp speed.

  “After the scandal broke, no one wanted to employ you, right? And all income stopped?” Suze asked.

  “Correct.”

  “And Prince Andrew stepped in to save the day?”

  As I mentioned earlier, Andrew rescued me with his own money and helped me sidestep bankruptcy proceedings. We sent letters to my creditors, boldly offering them a quarter of what they were owed. They helped me restructure my debt.

  Suze bored in. “What does it feel like to be dependent?”

  “If I didn’t have Andrew, I’d be homeless,” I said haltingly.

  “You need to make money. You need to be independent. But success comes one project at a time. So we need a strategy.”

  I outlined for Suze the projects I was hatching to help me get back on my financial feet, including doing television work, going on a speaking circuit, and turning my Little Red children’s books into a series of cartoons.

  “There’s your money strategy,” Suze nodded. “But you must also have a personal strategy. Although a better net worth can make life less stressful, it won’t help with your self-worth.”

  Suze wanted to dredge up the scandal. But I didn’t want to go there. It was quite beside the point now, like an artifact looted from an ancient grave, an oddly shaped tool no longer of any use. I wanted to move forward, using the experience as an opportunity to learn. I wanted to master the lesson and find the greatest treasure of all—a “me” I’m proud of.

  So I asked Suze, “How do I find self-worth?”

  “There isn’t one key that gives you self-worth. It’s not one-dimensional.”

  At that point I wished Suze could wave a financial magic wand and make everything better. But it wasn’t that easy.

  “Girlfriend, you need to turn your attitude around before we even start working on your financial situation,” Suze advised. “Thinking that you’re not good enough has been preventing you from loving yourself, being true to yourself, and doing what you really want to do in your life. It’s making you feel as if you don’t measure up. It’s also leading you to align y
our everyday behaviors and choices with what you think others want and expect from you. That’s why you’ve got money problems!

  “I want you to start appreciating how amazing you are. That’s your personal strategy. Now is the time to focus on the positive rather than the negative. You’re not on the street; you’re not starving. You have wonderful daughters and a great life ahead of you. I know it feels as if starting over at fifty-one is late, but you have one of the most important possessions: the courage to change.”

  Suze grilled me aggressively, and I’m glad she did. Changing my habits would be tough, but I felt I was headed in the right direction.

  I wrote in my diary:

  I had a great time with Suze Orman. Suze asked me my most terrifying fear. I responded that it was the fear of never knowing or loving myself. Suze assured me that I would eventually find Sarah.

  The more I come into my right mind, the more I look at the monstrous mistakes made by my ego, which sabotaged my life. I’m terribly sad about the mistakes made.

  I’m so miserable at what the past is telling me, and the shame and humiliation of letting so many down. It feels catastrophic to live with.

  At least I have my girls. We have a magical circle of love for each other that is never-ending.

  With Suze’s guidance, I faced up to what I owed, to really see the numbers and not merely slide them under my accountant’s rug. Suze feels that most people are unhappy because they aren’t being honest with themselves, especially about money and finances.

  “Being truthful with yourself plugs you into your inner power. You aren’t going to be content or successful until you are connected to your heart and operating with all your energy. And that requires a commitment to a life based on honesty in every aspect.”

  Martha Beck chimed in via email with some advice all of us can use:

  Your areas of fuzziness are mainly exaggerations or lack of specificity around money. I’m not sure you know how much you have, where it goes, and how it comes in. I hate tracking numbers myself, so I more than understand this, but I think getting incredibly, scientifically honest about money is the fastest way for you to extricate yourself from the quicksand that’s trying to swallow you.

  Are you willing to take this challenge? It means you can only say things about money that you actually know to be true. For instance, instead of, “I have nothing,” you’d specify what you do have, which would require your actually KNOWING how much you have, which would require some research. It won’t be easy, but at some point, it’s going to be necessary, sooner or later. You decide.

  I decided I didn’t want to worry about money. I didn’t want to be chasing my bills. I focused on paying off my credit-card balances. But mainly I needed to keep my people-pleasing money habits in check. Subconsciously, I had believed I was buying people’s affection, but I usually got nothing meaningful in return. So I’d filled that hole by spending money, and then I’d feel terribly guilty. I deserved to treat myself better than that.

  If any of us “buys” approval, the next thing we know, we’re in debt, we’re unhappy with what we have, or we develop an even more insatiable need to people-please. I had to see money for what it is—a way to buy necessities, not as a way to buy my way into someone’s heart.

  I’m keeping track of my expenses, tallying every last dime, something I’ve never done because I trusted others to do it for me. It’s duller than eating plain porridge for breakfast, but it taught me why and how my cash was leaking away.

  Before, I had been out of touch with my money, then out of touch with my life—a place no one wants to be. Now, I had to sit down and create a realistic estimate of what I spend on average each month, and take into consideration costs for vacations and social events.

  I went on a mostly cash diet. It’s a known law of financial physics: Plastic attracts debt. So I stopped using all my credit cards (except one, for emergencies), and when I buy, I spend actual money.

  Also, I visualized my life without money worries, when I’d be able to use my money for some interesting or more important things.

  Whether it’s the result of the bad economy, losing a job, or being ill prepared for a catastrophe, so many people are facing serious money problems. I know what it’s like to be seriously in debt, and I want to give you hope. You can take control of your finances. When you do, I guarantee you’ll reap more than monetary rewards: You’ll relieve so much stress, you won’t know what to do with all that freed-up space in your mind and heart. You might even enjoy your life more.

  NUGGETS:

  • Take charge of your finances, and you will take charge of your life.

  • Manage your own money. It’s fine to surround yourself with a team of money advisors, but you should make the decisions.

  • Pay attention to what you have coming in, how much is going out, and where it is going.

  • Erase the idea of “lack” from your mind. The feeling that we need money is to focus on the lack of it, and that prevents us from receiving it.

  • Stay grateful, and show it by giving back to your community and to organizations you believe in.

  • Overspending comes from people-pleasing or from an addiction to seeking approval from others. I always seem to get this one wrong—so who am I to give guidance here?—but this is what I’m trying to learn myself.

  From: Suze Orman

  To: Sarah

  Truth always resonates with the heart and soul. And it is always the right time to hear and feel the truth. It really is that simple, Dear One. It is when the soul merges with itself—it is when you love the mere fact that who you are totally fulfills who you want to be—then being alone is a state of celebration, not a state of loneliness—my wish for you my Dear Duchess is that from this day forward you truly celebrate every breath that you take and every moment you get to spend alone.

  From: Martha Beck

  To: Sarah

  Hi dear,

  Here’s the key: Always be true to your own ethos. Decide what you believe to be moral and responsible behavior, and live that way.

  You’ve talked to me before about how you feel trapped and smothered because your openness and high spirits aren’t considered the ideal “stiff upper lip” mode for someone in your position. Well, trying to force yourself into a personality that wasn’t you is what I believe led to things like the Fake Sheikh. You CANNOT live according to rules that violate your essential self. Better, by far, to live openly and calmly according to your best version of human behavior. Someone can always find fault with you—that’s not your business. Your business is to live honestly, to be your true self. Then at least when someone finds fault, you’ll know that it’s simply an honest disagreement.

  My experience shows that people who live this way outlast media storms and rise above them. Those who pander to anyone and everyone’s code, desperate for approval and affirmation, end up selling themselves down the river. (That idiom is an old reference to slavery, by the way. You aren’t anyone’s slave. Don’t behave like one.)

  I know this must be so frightening, but you are up to it. You’re working with good people. All is well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.

  22 No Mission Impossible

  The role of mothers in any community is enormously important. They look after the health of the family—where vaccinations are available, they make sure their children have them, for example—and in many countries they provide the household income. There is no doubt that women do most of the world’s work.

  THE ONLY PLACE I feel at home is away from home, working by the side of children who are ill or have been callously cast aside. It’s in my heart, working with children. God has just placed a burning desire within me to help develop better opportunities for them. Over the past fifteen years, I’ve used funds from my commercial work and my charity, Children in Crisis, to help care for children with AIDS and build schools for deprived children in Africa.

  Several years ago, against the advice
of many, I went to the small war-ravaged West African nation of Sierra Leone, where my charity Children in Crisis was at work rebuilding schools. Sierra Leone is one of the poorest nations on earth despite the fact that it is home to diamond mines that have produced some of the world’s extraordinary stones. If you are familiar with the term “blood diamonds,” you know it refers to a savage decade-long civil war in Sierra Leone that virtually destroyed its entire society. It was a war that divided the country, turning neighbor against neighbor and unleashing packs of youth rebels responsible for murdering and maiming millions. Ironically, the war was funded from the sale of diamonds. Visit Sierra Leone today and you will be outraged, not only by the country’s poverty and poor infrastructure, but by the common sight of people of all ages who are missing limbs. This is because the civil war was fought using violence and terror. Rebels wielding machetes would systematically attack people in their villages, hacking off hands, arms, and legs of men, women, and children. Those who did not die of their wounds became walking reminders of who was in control.

  I spent an afternoon with a young crippled boy named Mohammed, a victim of the horrors of civil war there. He raised his hand and pointed to a boy his age playing on a makeshift soccer field. Then Mohammed touched the stump of his upper leg cut off at the knee.

  “That boy out there was my best friend before the war. He was forced into the rebels’ army and one night he came to me high on drugs and so out of his mind that he took my leg off. I forgave. I am stronger by my willingness to forgive and move on.”

  It is from children like Mohammed that I draw profound inspiration and courage.

  Thankfully, the war ended, and Sierra Leone is now rebuilding itself very slowly with the help of the international community. Children in Crisis, working in conjunction with other charities, has refurbished or rebuilt eight schoolhouses, making this the first generation in nearly fifteen years to have any access to education. I cannot tell you how deeply touching it is to see these children in the classroom, many of them maimed and united as survivors—behaving much as the children at your or my child’s school. These children feel privileged to be alive, let alone in school. They are happy and inquisitive and exceedingly gentle and kind toward each other.