Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [72]
I knew my demise was imminent during week four when I did the Viennese waltz and Carrie Ann Inaba judged me on my “elegance.” She said I was “afraid of elegance,” but she wasn’t concentrating on my dancing, she was concentrating on my life. The judges were making me into a Playboy stripper; they weren’t letting that go.
Carrie Ann’s comment wasn’t that mean, it was just the way she said it. She was referring to my life. This wasn’t a reality contest, this was a dance contest. If I smelled my armpits off-camera or dressed like a slob in sweatpants all day, then so be it. But don’t judge me. It’s not Living Your Life All Day with the Stars, it’s Dancing with the Stars. Judge me on my dancing, not my elegance or lack of elegance because I talk about getting my period. They weren’t looking past that and I knew at that point they had decided my destiny. It dawned on me that all season they were always commenting on my boobs or my character. So it was always just a matter of when I’d go, not if.
It was a Monday dance night. Each week has a different task you need to do, with new costumes, new interviews, and new stories, almost like a plotline for that week that producers would capture during filming, but I hadn’t been assigned anything. So I knew that I wasn’t moving on because the production direction had stopped. That’s show business for you! It was the beginning of the end.
So we started dress rehearsal and Louis was being nice. Something was different. He was being smiley, giving me compliments, and sympathizing with me, praising me, showing me love, being nicer—it was so weird! He kept saying, “Good job!” He made me believe I could do the best I could do! For the first time in seven weeks, during the tango, I finally felt good about myself because I saw a smile from Louis. So afterward I said to Hank, “Louis seemed very different, he seemed happy and nice to me.” And Hank said, “Oh yeah, good. I guess that talk worked.” Hank had finally had that talk with Louis. I don’t know what he said and I don’t want to know. He must have scared the shit out of him because Louis was a totally different person. But at least I got to walk away happy.
Power nap! Take it when you can get it.
Dancing with the Stars was a lot of stress on my body and my brain. I spent countless hours in the tub soaking my muscles and even more lying facedown on my pillow wishing I didn’t have to do it anymore. Not that I didn’t have fun—I did—but it’s excruciating having to get up there and perform every Monday night after practicing every day of the week for it. Someone like Hines Ward, who’s won Super Bowls and thrives on big moments and competition and and has a “practice makes perfect” attitude in life, is better suited for Dancing with the Stars than a mom whose only high-heeled dancing experience came with a stripper pole and crumpled-up dollar bills. It was a challenge, and one I’m very proud to have stepped up to, but I think I’m done with the ensemble celebrity cast for a long time. I don’t see myself joining Celebrity Apprentice or Celebrity Rehab any time soon. I love being on E!, I love being a hidden secret. ABC rakes in about twenty-three million viewers a night for DWTS. E! rakes in an average of only 1.5 million for me, but if I had a choice, I would want to stay on E! because that’s just who I am. I don’t like twenty-three