The Wendy Williams Experience

by Wendy Williams

  I’m proud of the things that I’ve done and the things that I have overcome. I’m proud of the things that I’m scared of and the things that I’ve conquered. And I have no shame. I feel that is one of the advantages I have over people like Oprah and Star Jones— there is nothing that I will not talk about, because I have no shame about anything that I have done.

  I have been through enough in my life to share with you all the things that I have learned. I have made enough mistakes and had enough disappointment to be able to relate to most situations.

  You never know how much of an impact you can have on people. You never know how much the things you share or your perspective on life can change people. I was stopped by a woman on the street who is five feet eleven like me. She stopped me to thank me because she said I had given her the courage to stand tall. I often talk about my height and how important it is for tall women to stand tall and straight and not slouch. And she took my advice.

  Looking at this woman, I would never have suspected that she wouldn’t walk tall or that she would have any insecurities. She was one of those beautiful women who seem to exude confidence. She had a great body, great skin, great hair. Just a natural beauty. And she came over and thanked me? I am happy that I was able to make her feel good about herself.

  With women it’s so hard sometimes. We can be so catty. So bitchy. We seem to have a hard time supporting one another. I admit, I came up in the industry believing that every other woman was my enemy. But I learned that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  I was on my way to being a catty bitch, but that was nipped in the bud by women who paved the way for me. The women ahead of me in the business showed me that there is enough for all of us. And I never got a chance to execute my cattiness. Carol Ford, Yvonne Mobley, Kathy Hughes, all gave me a solid foundation on how to be a woman in this business and how to pave the way for others. I can honestly say as far as being a mentor I have had problems with only one woman in this game. And that was because she fell into that catty BS.

  To get this far and actually have someone jump up like they’re going to take it all from you, like I didn’t pay my dues, that it’s just that easy, like I’m going to let a bitch jump up and be a bad bitch, well, that simply wasn’t going to happen. Needless to say, she is now off my radar at this point.

  And I’ve only had one other particularly catty experience with someone I didn’t expect to see that from. Mo’Nique, who hosts It’s Showtime at the Apollo, and who starred on the since-cancelled The Parkers, was brand-new in the industry when we met in the early 1990s.

  We weren’t close friends, but we were being teamed up for a pilot for a new television talk show. We had a deal with Buena Vista Disney and we were going to be the next big thing. They discovered Mo’Nique through the comedy circuit and I was one of the most popular deejays in New York. We flew out to Los Angeles and shot several pilots for this show.

  We shot some pilots in New York as well. And we were hanging together for a minute. She was even there the night my husband proposed to me at the club. In fact, she got dressed at my house that night. I remember helping her zip her dress.

  We had a lot in common, both being big girls, both trying to break into television. But we were also very different. While Mo’Nique was content to make her name being a big girl, I didn’t want to be known for being big. I wasn’t happy with my body and I think that my desire to get breast implants and liposuction somehow insulted Mo’Nique.

  We never got the television show. And we went our separate ways. And when she started blowing up on The Parkers she became a subject for the wags, the gossips. She had made her way into Cindy Adams’s, and Liz Smith’s columns. And once she made it to that level she was more than subject to being talked about on my show. I was simply reading from the gossip pages about her messy marriage and divorce. She took offense to me talking about it. But it was somehow okay for the others to talk about her.

  It was difficult for Mo’Nique to reckon with that fact that I am a force in the industry, and even though I knew her before, she is a star and she’s on my radar. If you’re going through relationship problems, I’m going to talk about you. I believe she expected me to do her a solid and not do my job. She didn’t really expect that I would talk about her. And that’s good. This is what I do, however.

  I don’t have any problems with Mo’Nique. I wish her well. But I don’t think that sentiment goes both ways. When she was doing her stand-up in New York City, she managed to work me into her act, calling me a drag queen. I guess she needed regional material, the material used for a specific area outside of the usual jokes that will bring New Yorkers into her fold. So she would start off with “Wendy is a drag queen.” She would just throw me into her bit. I’m very flattered to be a part of her stand-up routine. I understand the rules. I didn’t make them, but I certainly do understand them.

  But it is a bit sad. What’s also sad are not only the things women do to one another but the things women do to themselves over men.

  I interviewed Jennifer Lopez when she was engaged to Ben Affleck, and I felt that it wasn’t a match made in heaven. I felt a sadness when she talked about the relationship and she started getting misty. Now, here is a woman with absolutely everything— a great movie career, a successful recording career. She is known as one of the most beautiful people in Hollywood. She has money, fame, and success. But she just can’t get it right when it comes to relationships.

  There are women who enjoy being in relationships who can do it with a degree of a sanity, and then there are women who insanely go from relationship to relationship. Jennifer Lopez and Elizabeth Taylor are insane with their man-hopping. Paris Hilton man-hops too—without, however, getting into a relationship—bordering on marriage—with everyone she is rumored to be involved with. But who knows if one is better than the other?

  I look at J.Lo with a certain amount of sadness. Apparently, she would do very, very well just being by herself for a moment and getting into herself and enjoying her own fame, success, and womanhood and all of that other stuff—that good stuff that women push to the side when they are with a man. But I know by the time this book comes out, she will probably be engaged to someone else or married.

  There are women like J.Lo, then there are women like Star Jones. I don’t believe J.Lo really knows what she wants. I believe Star Jones knows exactly what she wants and she is willing to do what she has to do to get it.

  The View’s Star Jones got engaged on national television during halftime at the 2004 All-Star game in Los Angeles. She’s been a basketball fan for a long time, so it was no shock for her to be at All-Star Weekend with great seats, watching the event. She has recently lost a great deal of weight through what I understand was stomach stapling. I applaud her effort to lose weight, and she’s starting to look really great. Star was definitely morbidly obese and clearly an attractive woman with great potential to be a world-class beauty. And she’s very smart.

  She had been seeing Al Reynolds for four or five months. They met at an Alicia Keys album release party in New York in 2003. It was a celebrity event—not open to the public, by invitation only. Yes, I was invited. No, I didn’t go. That is my usual MO when it comes to events like this. I am invited just as much as I’m not invited. My position remains the same—I’m busy. It could be as simple as I want to get home and see my kid.

  So I didn’t go to this event. Star was there—as well she should have been. She’s a single woman with a great job in the city, no kids, able to go and live the life. The way she told it on The View, she was navigating her way through the crowd with her glass of champagne and she passed this man and he said, “I know you’re not going to pass me like that.” And someone standing near them introduced Al to Star. While Alicia was performing, he supposedly came up behind her and swayed with her to the music.

  Single woman meets single man at a fabulous party in New York City and bombs burst, rockets fly, and four months later, they’re engaged. There is a be
autiful five-carat princess ring. Beyoncé and Jay-Z, Denzel and Paulette, Jimmy Jam and his wife, are all courtside to witness. It was great for Star. Was this desperation, as many have said since?

  When you’re forty-one years old and you meet someone that you like, to get engaged that quickly is not surprising. At that age you know what you do or don’t want out of life. You know where you want to navigate your career. You know when your retirement kicks in and where you’re headed with your finances. And you know what you don’t want out of your companion. You know what you’re willing to put up with—whether he be a philandering man, a gay man, an unemployed man, a man who makes less money than you. And you know whether you want children.

  When I heard Star and Al got engaged, I was not surprised at all. She talks cocky, she and her all-girl crew. But you hear the wanting in her voice. It sounds very modern and very Sex and the City-ish. I don’t know whether it’s the more successful you get or the older you get, but companionship for women is important. It’s very important.

  Now, I have received a lot of behind-the-scenes gossip about Star’s fiancé. Since his picture has been splashed on all of the gossip pages I have gotten a lot of “Wendy, guess what . . . ?” The Daily News even reported that Al Reynolds at one point “played for the other team,” meaning he had relations with men. I am not going to explore any of that. As he said through his publicist in the article, “that’s between me and my fiancée.”

  That is between Star and her man. I wish Star Jones happiness, because she appears to have it all. And to have a partner with whom to share all that she has is very important. It’s very important. Watching Sex and the City makes it seem too easy to be single and carefree. But most women—even the most powerful, successful, wealthiest women—want someone to share it with. I don’t care what they say. And if Star has found her man, I pump my fist for her. And her fiancé, Al Reynolds, is getting a complete package of a complete woman. He’s meeting her at a good time. He’s meeting her as a fatso but will end up with a woman with nice proportions, who has loads of money, and an education, and whose forty-plus years of sassiness and courage, as well as genuine fears and vulnerability, make her a real woman. I wish them luck. I give it three years.

  CHAPTER

  15

  Ask Wendy

  WENDY:

  I am a single black woman in my mid thirties who has never been married and would like to be. I cannot seem to meet the right man. I have gone to church, the mall, even the supermarket, and have not found a man who I feel I connect with. What am I doing wrong?

  —LILY

  LILY:

  If I were you, I would take my search to the Internet—yes, the Internet. There are so many dating sites online now and to tell you the truth, many people report back to me that they have found some success dating online.

  I do have a few cautionary words: Be honest, because he probably will not be honest, and that will give you the upper hand. Men mostly lie about their height and looks and finances; you must tell the truth. I also suggest that your first few dates be in a very public place. I mean, let’s be honest, there are a few nuts out there, and you don’t want to be stuck someplace where you can’t make a quick exit if you get one of those nuts.

  I happen to love coffee shops, and I suggest you meet during the day—either for breakfast or lunch. Don’t let the date last longer than two hours, and the date should start and end at that coffee shop. Don’t make plans to meet later—even if you hit it off. Wait. I would suggest that the coffee-shop meeting spot should last for at least four dates, until you really get to know this guy.

  Don’t give too many details about your personal life either. If you’re a securities trader, don’t let him know exactly where you work on Wall Street. If you live in Queens, don’t let him know exactly what block. And hopefully the coffee shop won’t be right at the curb, it will be in the mall, where your car can be mixed up among all the other cars. Don’t let him see your license plate, because he can get a lot of information about you from your plates. Caution. Caution. Caution.

  With those precautions, I definitely recommend Internet dating. I also like personal ads. I love personal ads and have actually had a couple of dates from the personal ads myself. But you must apply the same rules as with Internet dating. Caution. Caution. Caution.

  I also suggest dating across racial lines. That’s big for some people. Yes, I have to be perfectly honest with you, I never thought about marrying a white man. I didn’t feel the need to look across racial lines. I don’t have a “down on black man” thing in my life because I have a father, uncles, and a brother who have all given me very positive images of black men and I never had a reason to look at a white man, a Puerto Rican man, or any other man other than a black man for comfort.

  But I will tell you, if I was out there today, I might consider it. I have dated outside my race and if I were a single girl looking at the slim pickings, I would have to look elsewhere for a mate. My best girlfriend from high school is married to a white man and they are a great couple. I just find that black works for me. But if you’re single and you’re thirty-three, thirty-seven, forty, honey, you need to do something if you want to get married! And if you don’t want to get married, then fall back.

  And I have a question for you, Lily. How do you leave the house? Do you leave the house looking like a woman who is available? By that I mean, do you make sure you throw on some lipstick and your hair is halfway decent?

  You never know who you may encounter while running to the post office or dropping into the local drugstore. I’m not suggesting you have to get your hair done or have on full-blown makeup for everyday things, I’m just saying that even on the weekend you should look cute—cute enough to not be embarrassed if you see a man who catches your eye. Even if you’re bummy, you should be cute bummy. Because you are single and you are looking.

  Lily, I also suggest hitting nightclubs—which many people say are horrible places to meet men. I disagree. There are many nightspots that host after-work events that are wonderful places to meet men. I like the watering holes, myself—the ones that get a decent crowd in the place by nine o’clock at night. Because ain’t nothing but the devil is out after midnight. I believe that.

  DEAR WENDY,

  I am with a man who came to me with lots of baggage. And two years later we’re still going strong. Baggage doesn’t necessarily mean that people can’t be good in relationships, but the woman has to be ready to deal with everything that comes with it.

  I’m a young, very attractive attorney. When me and my man got together, I knew him for a couple of months and he soon became homeless. He had a young daughter who he has full custody of and had no job when I got with him, but I saw past all of that because I knew he was a good man. He wasn’t a thug or anything like that. I helped him get back on his feet, got us an apartment, and helped him with his daughter. I got him the paper and helped him with some job leads.

  Now we are engaged and he’s making good money as a programmer. He is no longer dependent on me and he spends his extra cash on me.

  I would like you to share this with the ladies in your audience to encourage them that there are some nuggets of gold buried in the dirt.

  —SHEILA

  SHEILA,

  Hmm. I am not sure if I agree with you. I think you were just lucky.

  That said, you are right, there are some good men out there who may have fallen on bad times. But I will say this—it couldn’t be me. (Also, by the way, a thug is not necessarily a bad guy, as you suggest.)

  What you did, I couldn’t do. I do not have the patience. God bless you. You never know what you’re going to dust off and what kind of gold you have if you just stick it out. But it couldn’t be me.

  Your man was homeless with a young daughter. And as you said, “I got us an apartment,” and you got him a paper and had to push him in the right direction and call on contacts and all of that. Hell, no! Hell, no!

  But . . . you never know. So
metimes you have got to pick the wild card, because you never know how it’s going to end up. See, you got a great one. But I still think you just lucked out.

  DEAR WENDY,

  I’ve been with my baby’s father for about three years and we argue almost every day. And when we do, most of the time it gets physical. Sometimes I’m scared of him. Sometimes he makes me want to leave him, but I’m scared that he will do something to me. There is someone at work who calls me and makes me happy. He tells me things I want to hear. My baby’s father calls me everything in the book—dumb, bitch, and ugly. What do I do? I’m eighteen; my baby’s father is twenty-one.

  —NO NAME

  WENDY’S ADVICE:

  Well, you see, the big part of the problem with this letter is that the young lady had her baby too young. The other part of the problem is that she’s taken no time out for herself because she can’t—she’s got a baby, she’s eighteen, she’s got to grind. She doesn’t say what kind of job she has but I can bet that it’s a job, not a career. She’s scared to leave because she’s built no foundation of strength for herself.

  Women—and this is my advice to all women of all ages—must build a foundation for themselves.

  Women should always stash money away for themselves when they are in a relationship—I don’t care whether you’re married, whether you’re living together, whether you’re simply dating. No matter the situation, every mother is doing her daughter a disservice if she doesn’t at least tell her that and teach by example about stashing money. And if your mother didn’t tell you, I am. Take heed.

  That’s your money for a rainy day. That’s money if he just ups and leaves you. That’s money for you if you lose your job. You never know what that stash is going to be for. It could even be money for your family if your man loses his job and now you need to go to your stash to help your family out.