Everything about you -- the woman who had an affair with John Edwards, got pregnant and broke up his marriage -- the juicy, sexy scandal still gets attention. So, I'm focusing on you with my choreographer's eye, picturing what moves you can and should make.
Alas, this half-naked picture of you is a perfect example of how you are, I think, screwing yourself up. (Excuse the slang -- I'm not referring to your sex life. I mean you are tangling yourself, tying yourself in knots.)
"Rielle Hunter" whom you created, is achieving what I suspect you've been pursuing most of your life. But at 46 years old, I have to tell you, it's time for you to stop clutching the vision of yourself as a femme fatale.
Okay, I understand. Like me, and many other woman, you grew up wanting to be somebody.
I wrote a big, fat, truthful book titled -- "Somebody." In it, I dug into how we inherited that drive, that dream, the concept of being somebody, from our mother's, who inherited it from their mothers.
Okay, Rielle! You've managed to get the fame beam turned on. It's on you, and on your name. That you're a "wicked bitch" to some people who devour the scandalous stuff about you and John and his wife, is NOT important to me.
I sense that it doesn't bother you. It certainly made you a sort of celebrity.
I don't remember the name of the prostitute that was attached to Elliot Spitzer, or Tiger Wood's girl friends; I never did know the name of Governor Sanford's Brazilian lady that's still thrilling South Carolina scandal mongers. (Of course I know the names, the great stories of Sappho, Camille, and Madame Bovary, but that's art.)
Spitzer, Wood, Sanford and the other adulterous guys in the news are not art. And I was right there in the un-artistic, messy, sexy, midst of Sybil Burton versus Liz, Debbie Reynolds, Eddie Fisher, and Richard B's five other love affairs with ladies I met, whose names I can't recall.
Will people know who you are next year? Are you waiting for Elizabeth Edwards to die so you can be Mrs. John Edwards? I don't think so. You're practical. You know that you're too old to compete with the young beauties that John E's wandering eye may light upon.
My choreographer's eye says you can still be somebody by being YOU.
(I wanted to be a prima ballerina, but wasn't, couldn't' be, but made myself into somebody, by going beyond that dream, and that's what I'm suggesting to you.)
You have creative ideas. You inspired a novelist and he wrote about you; you appeared in films; you produced a comedy, formed R. Hunter Films, then Midline Grove Productions and made videos. Business Week says you were one of the first to establish online video for marketing purposes, the first to exploit that venue for a political campaign.
Why not do a video with Elizabeth Edwards? Write a script and send it to her. The subject -- "What we (as women) do wrong; what we do right." Suggest to Elizabeth that she "tell you off." In the script, show her your reply. "I hear you and I will change."
Find a way to say you're no longer the girl who latched onto a needy (probably horny) John Edwards, when he was vulnerable, and he and you got you pregnant.
Elizabeth Edwards and Rielle Hunter -- that'll get you an audience. And re-launch you, and her. And Elizabeth wants people to hear her -- her story is her legacy and helps her face death.
You can build from there -- maybe script and produce other videos with other "wicked" women who are coming to terms with who they really are.
USE this headlined love affair. Sell it. Put on an fashionable, chic, lady-like outfit and take control of your image; pass on what "Being Somebody" meant to you, and it will touch us, affect all of us.