Backstory

by Avani Gregg

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  To my family and friends, who helped me get through all my ups and downs (and also went through ups and downs because of me).

  introduction Hey, Bebs!

  So, this is me, writing a book. Never thought I’d say those words (school essays aren’t my favorite thing), but here I am. People think they know me because I post thirty-second videos vibing on social media. But I guarantee you they don’t know the backstory—not even half of it. Just because you see me on TikTok doesn’t mean you know what makes me tick or who Clown Girl really is when the makeup comes off.

  Why? For a long time, I wasn’t ready to tell you. I’m not someone who likes to spill the tea. TBH, I’m a little guarded and it takes a lot to break down my walls. But 2020 propelled me into a new place and got me thinking, Shouldn’t we all know each other’s backstory? Wouldn’t it help us understand each other more and treat each other better? Because honestly, the world is not a happy, carefree place at the moment, despite all the fun and games you see on social media. There is a lot of ugliness, hate, and misunderstanding out there, and that was before we were cooped up inside thanks to the pandemic. As someone who has a public platform, I feel like I should do my part to put some of that toxicity to rest. That’s why I post videos and images, and it’s why I started my Messenger Watch Together show, Here For It with Avani Gregg. I wanted to start a conversation so we could all learn a little more about ourselves and connect with one another. I want this book to do the same—to open eyes and set wheels in motion. There’s a lot of stuff we all think and feel but are afraid to say out loud. Well, I’m saying it, and trigger warning: it’s gonna get deep.

  You might think my life has been picture-perfect (social media would have you think so, right?), but that’s a lie. Like everyone, I’ve been through pain, loss, hate, and bad days as well as good ones. I’ve struggled and I continue to struggle, but I’ve learned you can bounce back from adversity better and stronger. You start by surrounding yourself with people who genuinely love and care about you (my “Team Avani”). Then you take a deep breath and start to connect the dots of your life. In my case, I wanted to start with my mom, my dad, and their roots, and take stock of everything that has happened in my eighteen years. Eighteen is a big birthday, and it seemed like a good time to reflect. I feel like I’m the same person, even if my daily life has changed dramatically from being a competitive gymnast to becoming known on social media. When I sat down to write this book, it was the beginning of the pandemic, so my head was in a weird place. I just wanted to be around my family and my boyfriend and shut the rest of the world out. I needed to feel safe and supported while my mental health was shaky. I needed to give myself some me time to be instead of do.

  Somehow, putting words and emotions down on paper made me feel free; instead of hiding my backstory, I embraced it. I’ve been through a lot, but I also learned some important life lessons along the way. Not the things they teach you in school, but the real personal stuff you can actually use, like how to build your confidence, how to tune out negativity, and what to do when life throws you a curveball. I’ll share what I’ve learned because, hey, we’re all in this together, right? Hopefully, you can relate to my stories of toxic relationships, being bullied, falling on my face, and freaking out. I guess what I want you to know is that you’re never alone in what you’re going through. Your story is your story, but we have all been through stuff.

  Still, even if I could go back and change anything, I don’t think I would. Everything I’ve been through has shaped me into who I am today. I think you need to embrace your backstory so you can move forward—which is what I’m doing with this book. I have a lot of dreams and if I can own who I am, then I’ll be that much closer to making them happen. Being real with yourself is what turns dreams into reality. I’m not a “fake it till you make it” person. I think authenticity is everything and when you’re happy with yourself, no one can take that away from you. Your backstory is your superpower.

  I started using the word “backstory” about a year ago, and it just stuck. You’ve probably seen it in some of my captions or heard me mention it in interviews. It gave both my work and my life a sense of purpose and clarity. It’s the foundation that I build upon: everything happens for a reason and every choice you make is based on what came before it. I truly believe that everything and everyone has a backstory that colors who they are and how they see the world, and we should all try to understand each other on a deeper level. You never know what’s going on in somebody’s head—what’s motivating them or holding them back. You can’t, until you learn where they came from and how they arrived at where they are. Even then, you’re not living in their skin. You’re you, I’m me, and no two people are 100 percent alike. That’s what makes the world such an amazing and interesting place.

  What I want everyone to know is that I’m human, despite having more than 30 million followers on TikTok and more than 16 million on Instagram. If I’ve kept some things to myself, it’s because my whole life is so “out there” for everyone to see, that I needed to tuck away a few things that were just mine. But I’m ready to let you in, and doing that comes with a lot of nerves as well as a big sigh of relief. Initially, I’m always afraid people will judge, but then I tell myself, “Let them.” Bring it on. I’m just doing me and trying to be the happiest I can be.

  Not everything I keep to myself is super serious. I have little quirks and pet peeves that only my closest friends and family know about. For example:

  I won’t do my homework until my mom tells me to. She will literally storm into my room to ask if it’s done, and I shrug. “Nope, I didn’t do it. You didn’t remind me, so it’s your fault!” She gets annoyed, and I crack up—I just love pushing her buttons!

  I’m addicted to Diet Coke. All my friends love coffee, but when I wake up, I want my Diet Coke fix. My friends and I go to different fast-food places to see who has the best fountain Diet Coke. So far it’s McDonald’s, where it’s always ice-cold and crispy-bubbly. I am very, very particular. One time, when I was fourteen, my dad took me to McDonald’s and they accidentally gave me a Dr Pepper. When I sipped it, I actually started crying, so my dad turned around and went back to get me the right soda. You can’t fool me—these taste buds know.

  I’m a night owl. I could stay up until five in the morning and not feel tired at all. I have to force myself to sleep. Then I wake up really late—like in time to eat dinner. It’s totally fine by me if my day is upside down and I never see the sun. I might have been a vampire in another life.

  I don’t like surprises or when unexpected things pop up in my schedule—I need to know what’s happening every hour, every minute. When it comes to work and school, if things aren’t planned, I get upset. I don’t like to be spontaneous unless it’s with my friends and we decide to go out somewhere. Otherwise, it better be on my Google Calendar so I can plan around it.

  So yeah, that’s me—the SparkNotes version! You’ll have to dive into the following pages to learn the rest. What I hope you take away from them is this: things aren’t always what they seem. There is so much more to me than what you see in a video or a feed post, and I’m ready to let you inside my head and my heart. I’m weird, I have flaws, I screw up, and I get frustrated, sad, and mad—sometimes all at once! It’s crazy to me that people just don
’t understand that social media is a job that takes motivation, time, and a toll on my mental health. Yes, I’m really lucky to be up there at the top, but that doesn’t mean my life is perfect. I’m also anxious and awkward, and there are days when I don’t want to get out of bed. What keeps me motivated is the fact that I’m a creative person who needs to express herself, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to do that. It’s also you—the people who follow me. You lift me up, and your love and support mean everything. Besides, I could never go back to my life before TikTok, even if I wanted to—too much time has passed and I don’t really know how to live any other way. Before any of this happened, before I moved to LA and joined the Hype House, I was just this kid who went to school in Indiana. To be honest, I never saw any of it coming. But once it did, I had to figure out how to deal and what would come next.

  Now I’m embracing my backstory and writing the next chapters (yeah, I just made a book pun). I’m excited to see what they hold. I hope you are, too!

  ILY,

  chapter one Meet the Fam

  I owe a lot of who I am to my parents—my sense of self and purpose, and my stubborn streak… yeah, I get it all from them. My fierce loyalty to the people I love? They’re responsible for that, too. My cheesy, romantic view that one day you find your bae and live happily ever after? You guessed it. They instilled all of the above in me, through their words and actions. In fact, if you think about it, it’s pretty funny that a social media influencer was so influenced by her mom and dad, but I gotta give them both creds. I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for them.

  My mom, Anisha, was a nurse for twenty-four years and my dad, Lewis, was a firefighter for thirteen years, so they both dedicated themselves to helping others. Neither of them has a selfish bone in their body; they are givers with all their heart and soul, freely and regardless of their own personal sacrifice. They come from very different backgrounds—my mom is Asian Indian, while my dad is part Mongolian and part African American. But they found each other and stuck it out for twenty-eight years now (first as friends, then as a couple) because they knew, just knew, that they were meant to be together. I know that sounds like a Netflix rom-com or something, but it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. My parents didn’t have an easy time of it. They knew that if they got married, it wouldn’t be a stress-free, charmed life. My mom’s parents had plans for her to have an arranged marriage, so my mom and dad knew that entering into a life together without a lot of family support, financially and otherwise, was going to be hard. They would struggle, not just to provide for our family, but also to make time for each other and figure out how to make things work. Still, they didn’t hesitate, not for a second. They believed in love above all else—and you can roll your eyes, but I am a sucker for that kind of romance.

  Their journey to finding each other was, well, let’s just say complicated. My dad’s dad (Lewis Sr., known as “Pop-Pop”) was an MP (military policeman) in the army, and he was serving in the war over in Korea. From what I hear, he was a badass, and his job was to keep the peace with law enforcement and military authorities abroad. The way the story goes, he was at the end of his shift one night, hanging out with a friend, when he met a local girl in a village that was close to the army base. They hit it off, and soon after, he called his father back in the U.S. to ask for his blessing for marriage. My great-grandpa John told Pop-Pop to come back home and think about it. Translation: you are way too young to be talking marriage; come back to the States and you’ll forget all about this girl. After all, Pop-Pop was only twenty at the time. Well, I guess stubborn really does run in the genes, because he reenlisted, extended his time over there, and married her anyway. Eventually, Pop-Pop came back and brought her with him, introducing her to the other military wives and families on his army base in Fort Hood, Texas. But she wasn’t very happy. Between his job and several different sports teams, Pop-Pop was gone all the time. My dad was just a baby, but Pop-Pop took him to all his practices and games, leaving his wife at home by herself. She quickly figured out this wasn’t the life she signed up for, so she packed up and left and they later divorced. My dad stayed with Pop-Pop, but it didn’t take long for everyone to realize that raising a toddler as a single parent in the military would be very hard to do. Pop-Pop’s sister Justina, or “Mom-Mom,” lived in Edgewood, Maryland, and agreed to take my dad in when he was two, to help raise him and provide a more stable environment.

  My dad grew up thinking that Mom-Mom was his mom and his two older cousins, Tara and Melodye, were his sisters. It was really weird, this big secret they kept from him. He was about eight when they finally filled him in. He was a straight-A student and bookworm, and the news sent him spiraling. He says it “broke” him. Suddenly, nothing seemed to matter. He became rebellious and reckless, running with the wrong crowd and shoplifting. He was good at it, so he didn’t get caught, which only made him want to get into more mischief. He was young, so he didn’t know what was causing all these feelings or making him do these things, but looking back, he says it was all about anger and hurt. He felt betrayed and lied to, and I can only imagine how all that messed with his head. What would it feel like to have the rug pulled out from under you like that? It made him flip a switch: If they weren’t his parents, why should he answer to them? Why should he listen to anyone?

  In the meantime, Pop-Pop married his new wife, Janice, who had four kids from a prior marriage: Jimmy, Lori, Chrissy, and Johnny. When my dad was twelve, Pop-Pop came down to get him and bring him back to live in Indiana with his stepfamily. I guess he wanted to make things right between them, maybe fix my dad’s bad ’tude. It wasn’t exactly the happy homecoming my dad had imagined: the whole family stayed in a small four-bedroom town house. After that summer, my dad decided it wasn’t for him; it was close quarters with people he barely knew. So he got on a Greyhound bus and went back to Maryland, where he had his own room and a family who took good care of him—even if Mom-Mom and Uncle Jimmy weren’t his birth family. Three months later, my dad realized that he needed to be with Pop-Pop and moved back to Indiana once again. He says for the majority of his teen years, he was a pain in the butt, a “bad boy” who got kicked out of high school and then alternative school but eventually graduated after attending night school. It wasn’t until he was about my age, eighteen, that he started to “straighten up.” His family didn’t have a lot of money back then, but they had a lot of love for each other, and that’s all that really mattered. They made him feel included and a part of their lives.

  Right after graduation, my dad moved out on his own, enrolled in college, joined the volunteer fire department for two years, and then pushed on to become a professional firefighter. “Nobody handed me nothing, Voni,” he likes to remind me. “Everything I got, everything I am, I worked for.”

  You can see where I get my work ethic from—my dad taught me that nothing feels as good as something you’ve earned all by yourself. This is what Pop-Pop and Mom-Mom instilled in him, and he passed it on to me. Growing up, my sisters and I got an allowance after completing our chores, and if I wanted something, I had to pay for it. I worked on weekends and during the summers and wore Shanti’s hand-me-downs from our older cousins. When they were too small for me, they went to Priya. So when people comment on my videos, calling me “rich” and “spoiled,” I fire back. That couldn’t be further from the truth. My dad is a proud, self-made man and living proof that you don’t ever have to accept the cards you’re dealt. You would never picture him as a rebellious kid, because he’s so chill and laid-back now. He rarely cusses and he has the biggest, kindest, most generous heart. He never says no to any of us. He likes to go for long walks in nature and is always after me to get out more. I’m not really the “outdoorsy” type, but he reminds me how important it is to appreciate what’s right under your nose. I don’t know if he would have ever felt this way if his life had been easier or more “normal.” He owns his past in a way that inspires me to do so too, because he is so open and
honest about it. Sometimes I wonder where that courage comes from, but then I remember he used to fight fires for a living—he’s not afraid of being burned.

  My mom’s backstory is very different. She was born in India and came to America when she was four. Her parents, Harkant and Kusum Patel, were immigrants who settled in Indiana. My mom has one older sister, Hemali, and one younger brother, Amar, who was born here. In Indian families, five is a small household—the usual is closer to half a dozen or more relatives under one roof. My mom’s side of the family is huge, and she has tons of cousins, aunts, and uncles who are all very into their Indian faith and traditions. She and her siblings struggled at times with their new life in America—they wanted to celebrate all of the American holidays and just fit in and feel like they belonged here. When you’re a kid, the last thing you want to be is different, but they couldn’t help it. My mom’s parents were Hindus and insisted the family be Indian to the core. They were really strict, and their main priority was for their kids to have a good education. My mom says her parents expected so much of her: she needed to go to college, get a degree, and of course, follow Indian traditions or else. When it came time for my mom to get married, her parents were determined to arrange it because, hello, that’s what traditional Indian parents did back then. My mom’s sister, Hemali, had an arranged marriage, and that’s what my grandparents had in store for my mom as well. But she stood her ground: “Nope, not gonna happen.”

  My mom wanted to find a husband on her own time and terms. How could anyone else make that choice for her? She refused to even think about it and focused on her college courses until, one day, she met my dad. At the time, they were both dating other people, but they all would hang out together. When things didn’t work out with their current relationships, my dad took his shot and pursued my mom. They hit it off and dated all through college. My mom kept putting off getting super serious with my dad because she had her mind set on completing nursing school. In the back of her mind, I think she knew that marrying my father meant that her parents would cut her off and even possibly disown her, so she had to be ready to pay her own way. She wasn’t wrong: they were furious! My grandparents didn’t want her to be with my dad, so my parents got married in a courthouse instead of having a big wedding. Yup, no reception, no one hundred–plus guests showering them with best wishes and gifts. It was… sad.