I was going to get the Carolyn Bessette story out of her one way or another.

My father was a sergeant with the Connecticut state police. My mother was a hairstylist.

I guess that's what I was: a set of abs. And they lit the abs and shot the abs and sent the abs on their way. The photographer didn't look at my face once. I was humiliated.

New York is tough on lonely people.

I like parties, but I'm shy, and I often find myself standing around, feeling awkward.

I'd been around women who put me down, made me feel bad, or said things to fuel my insecurity.

I'd gone to Manhattan to become a model.