Idiot

by Laura Clery

  What I imagined for myself could manifest in my world. So I started visualizing more:

  A house in the hills with a pool. A house in the hills with a pool.

  Then Stephen and I found the perfect one right when we had saved up enough money to move in. Growing up with no money had given me negative associations about money and people with money. I used to think people with money were greedy or selfish, but that’s not necessarily true at all. I had to redefine the way I looked at wealth. The more you have, the more you can give. If you have a little bit of money you can give to homeless people on the street, but if you have a lot of money? There’s a world of help you could give to others. I had to tell myself that it’s okay to have money. It’s okay not to struggle and suffer. It sounds so strange, but getting out of that survival mindset was so difficult. Now that I’m financially stable and saving up . . . my affirmations are getting even bigger.

  My most recent philanthropic goal is to open an animal sanctuary. Animal rights are very important to me, so I started visualizing a sanctuary where we can rescue tons of animals from being put down. I was obsessing over it, and then I got a call from Colleen. “Laura, we went vegan and we have an eight-acre farm that we don’t know what to do with.”

  “HELLO, SISTER. I HAVE AN IDEA.”

  I told her about my idea and she was very into it. Things are happening, people! The dots are connecting themselves.

  I started to get even more specific with my affirmations. I’m making millions of people laugh around the world AND I have millions of followers. I was getting a ton of views and shares, but my follower count wasn’t in the millions yet.

  It’s strange, people always ask how I got to where I am now, but there are truly no logical step-by-step instructions to get here. The internet is the Wild West, and I ended up with the perfect storm of willpower, talent, opportunity, and strange coincidence. The only thing I can recommend is to visualize. For the record, I am not saying this is magic. I’m saying that a shift in your focus from what you don’t want to what you do want is more powerful than we could ever imagine, and it works in mysterious ways. There was no aspect of this success I could have truly planned for.

  Similarly, I couldn’t have planned that one day I would be sitting with Stephen and playing around on Snapchat, and then happen across this square-face filter. I literally laughed when I saw myself, turned to Stephen and said, “I think my battery is dead. Can I use your dick?”

  “AW SICK, Laura! That’s sick!” I couldn’t have planned him being genuinely appalled in the most hilarious way. I kept doing these pickup lines, and his reactions were killing me every time. I just wanted to say the worst thing possible to make him cringe more and more. I wasn’t even going to post this, it was just for me. But then I figured . . . why the fuck not?

  I posted it and people started losing their shit. I thought, Wow, I might be onto something here. That was the video that really blew me up—now I finally had the millions of followers on Instagram and Facebook that I had been visualizing. More and more brands started contacting me, asking me to promote them. I started getting recognized on the street, which was so amazing and always unexpected. When I went to London, a woman yelled “I’M YOUR GREATEST SWEDISH FAN!!”

  Whoa. I didn’t know people even watched me over there!

  I kept saying gross things to Stephen with the square-face filter and that entire series went viral. I have my theories about why this particular series stuck. There’s so much comedy where the joke is that a dude is objectifying or sexually harassing a woman. To see a strong sexual woman dominating a guy and making him the sexual object . . . that’s new. To me, this character is really for women. A lot of guys love her, too, but women really had this craving to see a female sexual pervert instead of the usual gross man over and over again. She’s just trying to get some D! I think that just resonated with people, to the point where one British guy even has a tattoo of her on his arm!

  I see so many content creators that create a video that really hits, really goes viral, and then . . . they immediately move on to the next thing. You see viral videos come and go all the time. So how does one take that and build a brand? The first thing I did was ask my followers to name her in a Facebook Live. I went live and ten minutes later my character was named Helen Horbath, which I thought was hilarious. She definitely looks like a Helen. (Sorry to everybody named Helen!)

  After that, I thought about who Helen was as a person. Who was this square-faced sexual pervert? What is her mother like? Why the hell is she like this? I built out her entire world, her family, her home. And I shot it, calling it: Me When I Visit Family. I’m finally at the point where I have my own sitcom of Helen and her family on Facebook. That’s how I evolved her from just a funny idea to an entire series with more than forty episodes so far. Once I let go of my goal of being on a sitcom and changed it to being of service—to spreading laughter—here I was, writing, directing, and starring in my own sitcom. It’s one of the biggest show pages on Facebook, with more than five million fans who tune in every week to see Helen and her dysfunctional family.

  Being a social-media influencer is not like anything else. I have direct communication with my fans. Immediately after I post something, they will tell me if they like it or if they don’t. I love being so close to them and talking to them and connecting to them. I once got a message from a man who said that he was going to kill himself that night, but he decided to scroll through Facebook first. He came across my videos and then started binging them . . . and that it was morning now and he was still alive. Messages like that are why I do what I do, but it does get overwhelming sometimes. I feel the pressure of wanting to make all these people happy. I want to please everyone and help everyone. I want to deliver the funniest content day after day and for people to love it. Chris Rock said that if you’re going to listen to the fan who says you’re a genius, you also need to listen to the fan who says you’re a piece of shit. In the end, I have Kristal’s wise words to bring me back to earth: stay in the action and out of the results.

  * * *

  Sometimes I think about Stevie Ryan, the girl who I did the Sex Ed pilot with—the first content creator/YouTuber I ever met. I looked up to her so heavily when I met her. She was really a model for me. She was an unapologetic woman who was smart and hilarious and unabashedly herself. She was making content when it wasn’t cool; she was on YouTube when it was really the Wild West. I remember thinking I wanted to be just like her.

  After she got really popular, she got her own show on VH1. She was entering the industry from the top and I thought that was amazing. Her show was this hilarious comedy sketch show where she played every character, but then it got canceled after two seasons. After it got canceled . . . she sort of stopped creating content. She stopped doing what she loved, and in July 2017, she killed herself. At thirty-three years old, she hung herself in her apartment.

  Her death affected me so deeply, because I saw so much of myself in her. We followed each other, and two months before she died, she hit me up.

  “Let’s shoot, dude!”

  “Hell yes, let’s shoot.”

  I really wanted to. The problem was, she was high all the time. Her Instagram was full of pictures of weed. No shade to her lifestyle, but it was really difficult for me to be around. She would wake up and get high and go to sleep high. It was all day every day for her, and that type of energy brought me too far back into my past. I couldn’t do it.

  A year before she died, I went to meet with a production company. They wanted to develop a show with me and Stevie. Honestly, it would have been perfect. Stevie and I were a perfect fit for each other. But I had to tell them no, even though I fucking loved her. It was because I knew that doing a TV show with someone meant being around them all day every day for months and months. I knew I couldn’t be around someone whose life was dictated by getting high, someone who had to self-medicate so much. It was dangerous for me. I had to put my sobriety first and say no.r />
  I just wish I had told her that there is a way out. I wish I had that chance to show her that she could get out of the hole she was stuck in. I knew where she was; I knew she was stuck in her addiction. All she had was her following and her art to keep her afloat, and when she stopped posting . . . that was it.

  I can’t speak for her, and I could be completely off base, but this is what I took from that situation: if I don’t have that self-worth inside me, I won’t survive the day that the likes stop coming and followers stop caring.

  If you don’t have this strong sense that you’re enough regardless of the external situation, then content creation is such a dangerous business to be in. One day you’re popular with strangers, and the next day you’re nothing to them. If you define yourself by how others see you, then suddenly you’re nothing to even yourself.

  It’s so strange to see someone’s social media still up after their death. One of Stevie’s last posts is a photo of her dousing herself in water with the caption: “Too hot out here for a coldhearted bitch like me.” On brand ’til the end.

  I’m a part of something so new and unregulated. I feel like there’s this new addiction to likes and views and followers that drives a lot of creators out of control. It’s proven that likes give our brains a hit of dopamine, so it makes sense the crazy lengths that creators will go to stay relevant. Why did Logan Paul film a dead guy? Because he would go to any length to get the views. That’s his hit, his high, his self-worth. I think Logan chose the hit over considering what would be the compassionate thing to do. When you’re an addict, nothing comes before that hit. Like when a meth-head is willing to steal all the stuff out of your suitcase to be able to sell it and get more meth.

  I feel incredibly grateful that my success happened after I was solid in my sobriety. AA gave me the tools not only to handle my life without alcohol, but also to handle pressure. I was where Stevie was once. I barely held on, and I certainly didn’t know why. When I finally got sober, I realized it was because I had a mission to make millions of people laugh. That’s what I was put on this earth to do. I had a purpose that was more than drinking and using.

  Every morning I do Tony Robbins’s Hour of Power. It’s cheesy as shit and I love it. It’s how I use my morning wisely. If I get on my phone right when I wake up, then I become riddled with anxiety. The Hour of Power means that I open my eyes, put on my gym shoes, and get my endorphins going. Stephen and I walk a mile and a half down the hill from our house and back again. Yes, I power walk in the suburbs every morning just like your mom.

  For the first fifteen minutes of the walk, I do breathing exercises to get centered. For the second fifteen minutes, I make a list of everything I’m grateful for. Stephen and I usually alternate. I say “I’m grateful I’m sober today,” and he says “I’m grateful for our one-eyed dog,” and so on. It puts us in a state of gratitude, which is a really easy way to make yourself feel good, even if you’re in a bad mood. Then after that, we do fifteen minutes of visualization, where we list all the goals and hopes we have for ourselves as if they are already happening for us. “I’m so happy and grateful that we have an animal sanctuary.” Then the final ten minutes is visualizing what you want to accomplish for the day as if it’s already happened. “I’m so grateful that I finish shooting two videos and I start a script for tomorrow.”

  That’s my morning. As Tony Robbins recommends, if you don’t have an hour of power, then have thirty minutes to thrive or fifteen minutes to fulfillment or two minutes to tango. Two minutes is surely better than none. Every morning this hour leads me to start my day with a mindset of abundance. Abundance of friendship, love, and laughter. If you feel like you have it, then it will come.

  Before I became who I am today, I shot a short film about all of this. I had this idea called The Procrastinator, where I played every character. Procrastination was like . . . my best quality. I was really great at it. You want me to reply to an email? Give me a month! You want a script written? Well, how about I say I will and then I don’t! And then I’ll never talk to you again because I feel guilty!

  The film was about a girl who needed to mail a letter but kept getting distracted. It was as random as my brain. I hired a guy named Scott from ProductionHUB to shoot it, found this fifty-year-old guy named Earl (who really wanted to go to Wendy’s for some reason) to do sound, and then Stephen produced and did everything else. The four of us were the entire crew.

  The film opens with me waking up, grabbing a letter, and placing a stamp on it. As I head to the mailbox I run into my old Russian landlady (me in a fat suit), who stops me and berates me.

  “You have to pay rent! You are late!”

  I fight with her for a while and then turn down an alley where I find this homeless crackhead (me with my teeth blacked out) who asks for any food I might have. I give her my bag of almonds and she throws them on the ground and stomps on them.

  “Hey, why are you stomping on those??”

  “I ain’t got no teeth!” (She was pureeing them.)

  Then I keep walking to the mailbox, but I stop inside a nail salon and get my nails done by a hysterical woman (me with makeup running down my face). Then we did a whole musical number at the nail salon, and the nail salon woman turns out to be magical. Because of course she was. I felt around in my pockets . . . and I had dropped the piece of mail. I went back home a failure. Or! A very successful procrastinator.

  As I got in the house, Stephen walked by in a carrot costume, holding a briefcase and saying, “I’m off to work!” It was all very cinema verité.

  Then, the crackhead found the letter and brought it back to my house. We had dinner together—pureed dinner, of course. All’s well that ends well! Except the letter never got sent.

  That film was completely emblematic of who I used to be. I’ve had so many distractions throughout my life, so many things getting in the way of my goals. I knew I would get to LA, I knew I would be acting, but the path here has been a winding road, full of dead-ends, U-turns, and random trips to Mexico. Somehow, I’ve ended up in an incredible industry that didn’t exist when I was first dreaming about my future. How did I ditch all the distractions and get here? I saw that my addiction, my fear, and my insecurity were getting in the way of my purpose and I changed, even when I thought change was impossible. Today, I know people can change. I went from being a selfish, suicidal, self-obsessed, drug-addicted alcoholic, to being a more-happy-than-not, vegan, sober yogi with three rescue pets, making an effort to give back every day. In no way am I suggesting that it is easy or simple or magic. My change took years of effort and tons of mistakes and a few near-death experiences.

  I get to do what I love every day. I get to make millions of people laugh around the world, and I get to be of service in that way. And it is because I put down drugs and alcohol and started walking through fear and wanting to be loving and tolerant and forgiving and of service. I decided that I want to be a good person. I think that works. I love my family, my career, and everyone reading this. Yes, you! Hey. Look at me. I love you! Now kiss me. Ohhhh yeah, that feels good. Mmmmm . . . Kiss me again. Okay, I’ll stop making it weird. I clearly do not know how to end a book.

  Oh and by the way, Stephen and I just had a baby. But that’s another book. . . .

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I need to thank Stephen Hilton, my incredible husband. You bought me a camera when I was broke and encouraged (forced) me to shoot out my ideas. You laughed at my jokes when no one else did. Thank you. I love you more today.

  To my son, Alfie, you are perfect. Even though you unapologetically pee on me three times a day. You were born shortly after this book was finished or believe me, there would be several chapters describing your impossibly chubby cheeks. I love you.

  To my loving and ever-so-tolerant family. Thank you for not murdering me. Mom, you have always been there for me, no matter what. (She’s literally soothing Alfie to sleep right now as I attempt to finish this book.) Dad, you taught me
to think for myself. I’ve always admired you. Tracy, you helped me graduate high school and bought me new jeans just because. And Colleen, you saved my life. Many times.

  Thank you to my DG-to-LA besties, Jack, Holly, Maggie, and Jill, for always showing up. Our friendship has kept me (somewhat) sane. Till death do us part, bishes.

  Thank you to Alyssa Lerner for lovingly listening to my more-often-than-not humiliating tale with never any judgment. You are so so talented and without you this book would not have been complete . . . ted . . . until 2060.

  To my incredibly kind hearted manager, Larry Shapiro, for endlessly encouraging me to walk through fear. Thank you for sticking with me. And for not being a douchebag.

  Thank you to Gallery Books, Simon & Schuster, and my brutally honest editor, Jeremie Ruby-Strauss, for never hesitating to tell me “This sucks.” You make good books great. Also big thanks to Brita Lundberg, Carolyn Reidy, Jon Karp, Jen Bergstrom, Aimèe Bell, Jen Long, Jen Robinson, Rachel Brenner, Abby Zidle, Tara Schlesinger, Mackenzie Hickey, Anabel Jimenez, Lisa Litwack, John Vairo, Alexis Minieri, Caroline Pallotta, Allison Green, Rosa Burgos, Chelsea Cohen, and Mike Kwan for all of your hard work. And to Elisa Rivlin, who waited nervously through every contraction. (I was in early labor during our last phone call. True story.)

  Last but certainly not least, THANK YOU to my fans. Without you I would definitely be homeless. I have no other skill set. (And I’m fine with that.)

  About the Author

  LAURA CLERY is an actress and comedian best known for posting daily comedy sketches to Facebook and YouTube, where she has a combined seven million followers and upwards of two billion views. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, son, and motley crew of rescue animals.