What Working on a Cruise Ship Taught Me About Being FAMOUS: the BAD Stuff

Me with one of my staff, during a party in the crew bar. Image Credit: Author

Around the mid-2000's, I worked on a cruise ship.

In my previous post, I explained how I was famous (sort of) on the ship, and all the GOOD stuff that came with that fame.

A quick re-cap: a cruise ship is a microcosm; it's a free-floating world unto itself.

Within that world, I was the only person doing the job I was doing. (For anyone who's seen the show Love Boats, I was sort of like Julie McCoy). My job consisted almost entirely of public relations, whether it was interacting with the passengers or the crew. (More details in my previous post.)

Because my job was so public-facing, everyone knew who I was.

As I already said, there were a lot of perks to that fame: Opportunities. Access. Privilege. Free Sh*t.

But nothing in life is FREE; everything has a cost. Ultimately I felt that for the few benefits I got,  the price of fame was just too high.

So what was the cost?

I'm glad you asked; it's a long story, so pull up a chair and let me tell you.

Me, somewhere in Mexico. Image Credit: Author

Everybody Knows Who You Are, but Nobody Knows You

Because everyone knew who I was, they thought they knew me.

I found this out because often when a crew member talked to me for the first time, they would say "Oh, you're not at all like how I imagined; I thought you were stuck-up but you're actually very nice."

Or "So and so said you were (fill in the blank with some unkind expletive), but you're really not."

And although everybody knew who I was, I didn't know who they were.

It's a strange feeling to move through your day knowing that every single person you walk by knows your name and certain facts about you when you don't know them.

People thought they knew me based on what they heard or saw, but very few people actually got to know me.

Subway tunnel in Moscow. Image Credit: Author

You Lose Your Anonymity

Because I was in a public-facing position, wherever I went, people felt they had a right to have access to me. 

And I guess they sort of did.

That's something no one tells you about putting yourself in the spotlight: people will want to talk to you in order to discover things about you that they can then share with others in the hopes of making themselves feel special. Specialness by proxy, if you will. 

Talking to you and finding out something that others might not know about you is heady social fodder.

Anonymity is a privilege you take for granted until you don't have it anymore.

Another party in the crew bar; it was the only way to socialize. Image Credit: Author

You Lose Your Freedom of Movement

I couldn't go anywhere without someone taking note of it and reporting on it later.

Unless I was completely alone in my cabin, then someone was watching me and telling someone else about what I was doing. (I always feel like, somebody’s watching me…)

During my second contract, I was briefly involved with the Head Chef. I thought we'd been very successful at keeping things hush-hush, until the Assistant Cruise Director told me he'd heard that "so-and-so was all up in your business."

I learned one of my most important life lessons then: if you don't want to get caught doing something, there's only one way that's 100% guaranteed no one will ever find out about it: DON'T DO IT.

If you did it, or you told someone about it, especially if you're in the public-eye, then you should assume that everyone knows or will find out. (See above re: heady social fodder.)

Gatun Locks, Panama Canal. Image Credit: Author

You Lose Control of Your Own Narrative

I was constantly hearing rumours about myself.

Favourite topics included: outright character assassinations (I was stuck-up, not that attractive or actually quite ugly); who I was allegedly sleeping with (I hugged someone and that could only mean one thing); what kind of a person I was (always negative: "She's a snob and she thinks she's better than all of us"), etc.

People would make assumptions about me based on what they thought they saw or a 30-second interaction, and it wasn't in my power to change that narrative.

It's a soul-crushing frustration to feel so powerless.

Your Every Action Is up for Public Scrutiny

I always had to be 'ON', because if I had a bad day or wasn't smiling (not being actively unkind mind you, just NOT SMILING) then I would hear from someone that so-and-so though that I was a b*tch.

I had to be the kindest, friendliest, most polite and considerate human all of the time because if I wasn't, then the rumours started.

I felt as though I literally couldn't leave my cabin unless I was ready to put on a show in every way; hair, make-up, wardrobe and a big smile no matter how I was feeling.

Do you know how hard that is?

Tamping down your own thoughts and feelings just so you can constantly appear pleasant?

When you're in the spotlight, you're never not in the spotlight unless you're alone.

You have to be 'ON' all the time and you cannot let down your guard.

Ever.

It's emotionally exhausting.

With fellow crew members. Cartagena, Colombia. Image Credit: Author

The Work You Get Sometimes Depends on the Whims of Powerful (and Awful) People

In my position, I reported to the Hotel Director.

My first contract, the Hotel Director - Yves - was a polite, refined, mild-mannered Frenchman. We regularly conversed in French together (I had been hired because I'm a polyglot), and we got along well.

At the end of my first contract reporting to Yves, his letter of recommendation to the cruise line about me put me at a positive re-hire status (meaning I was eligible to come back and do another contract, if I wanted.)

My second contract, the Hotel Director - Fabricio - was a rude, impatient, loutish Italian man. I don't speak Italian, although I'm not sure it would have made a difference because we didn't like each other on sight, and had personality clashes throughout the duration of my contract.

At the end of my second contract reporting to Fabricio, his letter of recommendation to the cruise line about me put me at a negative re-hire status (meaning I was not eligible to come back.)

The reality is that this is how the whole world works too; I'm no longer so naive as to think that the world in general is anything other than a re-enactment of high-school. People promote those they know and like.

But the impact is much quicker on a ship, where if you have one contract with a decision maker who decides he doesn't like you, that's enough to end your career with that cruise line.

Curaçao, Leeward Antilles (Caribbean). Image Credit: Author

Cancel Culture Can End Your Career

Passengers were encouraged to write comment cards at the end of their cruise.

All of the people who genuinely liked me didn't speak up (because happiness generally doesn't fuel action), but the few (all women) who were jealous (???) wrote mean-spirited and blatantly false comments to the cruise line about me.

They said I was "boring, unfriendly, rude, etc."

The nastiest comments came from the women whose lascivious husbands made comments about my appearance RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM.

HUSBAND, WITH WIFE ON HIS ARM (looks me up-and-down like he wants to take my dress off): "Well you certainly make that dress look fantastic!"

ME, CRINGING ON THE INSIDE: "Thank you so much. And doesn't your wife look lovely this evening as well?"

WIFE SHOOTS ME A DEATH STARE.

One woman wrote a comment so scathing that it could make your eyes bleed; she wrote a long diatribe of my faults and concluded that the only blight on her cruise was me, and that cruise line could only be improved if I was fired.

All of these comments were from women.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't true.

It didn't matter.

The voice of a vicious few won out over all the good work I had done; all of the guests who had adored me and appreciated my extra efforts.

I learned another important lesson then: give a compliment to those whose work you appreciate. That's really good.

But then, tell their managers; that's even better.

Positive feedback to the people in charge about their employees can change their lives.

Me, with one of the (lovely) guests during dinner. Image Credit: Author

The Novelty of the Glamorous Life Wears Off

If you do something every day, then by definition it's no longer a novelty.

I was wearing fancy dresses and eating five-course meals every night, surrounded by very, very rich people. (One lady wore a diamond ring so comically large it looked like it had come out of a gum-ball machine. Her husband owned a bank - several banks? - in New York.)

It all got...tedious.

To the point where all I wanted was to be alone in my cabin, in jogging pants, eating nothing but a bowl of cereal for dinner.

Even the novelty of lobster wears off.

The novelty of travel also quickly wore off.

I remember walking down the corridor one day and asking two fellow crew members what country we were in. They shrugged their shoulders and said they didn't know with a tone in their voice that also implied that they didn't care.

Eventually, I also reached that point.

I remember a day when the ship made a stop in Monaco; it was the only time during my contract that the ship was stopping there so this was my one-and-only opportunity to visit.

But I was so bone-tired that a nap sounded better. I didn't see Monaco that day. (I did go back years later, and saw that I hadn't missed very much. Unless you own a yacht, want to shop for designer clothes or eat at very expensive restaurants, there's just not much to do because Monaco is tiny. Teeny tiny.)

In Monaco, a few years later. Image Credit: Author

It's sad to travel and not care where you are.

It's sad not to be able to enjoy a fancy meal.

When you can have anything and everything all the time, you stop looking forward to most things. So much of what had been an exciting adventure no longer is.

The only thing I looked forward to was the few moments I was actually able to connect with people for real; to have an authentic conversation.

Everything else didn't matter.

Having your favourite things every day makes them boring, and that's sad.

Anticipation truly is half the fun.

The dining room. I hosted dinners here almost every night. Image Credit: Author

You Lose Yourself Because You Are Owned by the Masses

When you're in the spotlight, you start to base your actions on what will please or appease the public, not on what you want or need.

Some of that goes back to the above point about losing control of your narrative; in an attempt to have some control over how you're perceived, you start to pander to the masses.

You lose yourself in that process.

There is no time, space, or mental bandwidth to check in with yourself; the most important thing is always and only how you will be perceived.

Your main concern is "What will they think?"

Your job depends on how you will be perceived, and you cannot afford to be perceived badly so you spend all of your time externalizing your opinion of yourself and measuring how you're doing by how other people think you're doing.

And it never ends.

On the ship, the crew constantly changed and the passengers constantly changed, so I always, always, always had to be on, had to be at my best, had to cater to whatever people wanted, and be who and what they wanted me to be.

I had to be a chameleon.

You get to a point where you're no longer certain of who you are, because you've spent so much time changing yourself to please others.

It's no wonder famous people struggle to self-validate; their locus of control is on the outside.

Sugarloaf Moutain, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Image Credit Author

Crab In the Bucket is Real

The people who envy your position are chomping at the bit for the opportunity to tear you down.

When I first started working on a cruise ship, I was a fragile, scared, lonely 23-year old, on a luxury liner being expected to talk to and entertain guests who were anywhere from 30-50 years older than me.

I was terrified.

During my very first week onboard, I had a handover with the woman I was replacing and she told me "Walk in like you own the place and no one will question your right to be there."

So that's what I did. 

What passengers interpreted as confidence, and the crew interpreted as conceit, was just plain old fear.

I was terrified and I was trying to "fake it till you make it."

That 'fake it' shield had a lot of the crew assuming that I thought I was somehow better than they were, and they couldn't wait to tear me down.

I constantly heard rumours about myself that the few friends I had on board would relay to me; "Here's what they're saying about you this week."

Like I said, it's frustrating to feel so powerless.

Another night in the crew bar. Image Credit: Author

Fame Makes You 'Special' and That's Unbelievably Lonely

Being in a very public and glamorous position sets you apart; you're SPECIAL and because of that (as mentioned in my previous post), you have Opportunities / Access / Privilege / Free Sh*t.

Those things are nice to have.

The problem is, everyone around you knows that you get those things and they do not.

Most people won't go against the natural human tendency to exclude those they see as being in a better position than they are, because being around that person makes them feel inadequate. And who wants to spend their time feeling inadequate?

In one way, I can't blame the crew for generally excluding me; all they saw was that I spent my evenings in a fancy dress talking to the passengers, and going into the formal dining room to be served Ossobuco and expensive wine by them.

It's very awkward to be served by your colleagues.

When you're "special" and set-apart, you're like an island unto yourself. The other staff were part of a team of staff - other people doing the same job. The maids, the deck hands, the bar staff, the waiters, etc. But I was the only one on the ship doing my job, so I wasn't part of any group.

Yes, there were other people in officer positions like me; but they were mostly men in senior officer positions, and I was a woman in a junior officer position. There was only one reason any of those men would have been spending time with me, and - let me tell you - it wasn't to have a pleasant chat over tea.

Who do you connect with when you're in an exalted position? The pool is extremely small, if not entirely non-existent.

Me with the bar staff. Image Credit: Author

You Have to Question Everyone's Motives

If you see someone who's got something you want, that you know no matter what you do, you'll never have, you aren't likely to want to spend time with that person...

...Unless you think that spending time with that person might allow you access to the same things they have (specialness by proxy). But it takes a real leech of a person to do that so you constantly have to question people's motives.

Do you want to get to know me, or are you trying to get what I have?

I was very young and naive when I started working on the ship. I was a little like Bambi, and it never occurred to me that people might have ulterior motives for wanting to spend time with me.

That is until I dated someone during my first contract and found out the hard way that he wasn't trying to date me, he was trying to date my position to bring up his own social standing.

My naiveté hit me in the face then; I was devastated, embarrassed, and felt so foolish.

You Will Be Disappointed in Humanity

Power and money don't generally bring out the best in people.

You know about what happens in Vegas, etc? 

Well it's even worse on a cruise ship. 

I found out things about the people I worked with that I didn't want to know; that I just couldn't wrap my head around.

EXAMPLES: There were many of the crew who were working on board to save money for their weddings.

Their fiancé was on land, waiting for them to return, and meanwhile said crew member was dating someone on board. (What the actual f*ck?!)

There was crew who stole (they were discreetly unloading crates of expensive wine and caviar in select ports to re-sell to local vendors), and crew who were shooting-up during shifts (one waiter was found passed out with a syringe in his arm, having overdosed).

Meanwhile some of the (married) passengers had dalliances with (married) crew members.

Look, I don't mean to judge because people can do whatever they want, but I personally don't want to know about it because it challenges my view on the ultimate goodness of humanity and I don't want that opinion to change.

Devil's Island (former penal colony), French Guiana. Image Credit: Author

No Days Off

Direct employees of the cruise line don't get any days off; you work split shifts, every single day. (The subcontracted employees - art dealers, spa, jewellers - did get one day off per week.)

If your contract was 4-months, 6-months, 9-months, you worked every single day of that contract.

I had relatively short contracts, so the longest stretch of days I worked in a row was around 140-days. That's still a really long time without a break.

But that's also what fame is; it's not something you get to walk away from, to turn off when you feel like it.

There are no days off; it just is what it is every single day.

I can understand and sympathize with Britney Spears when she lost her cool with the photographers - at some point you just get so fed up that you want to scream at everyone to "LEAVE ME THE F*CK ALONE!"

You just want space.

You don't want to have to look your best or be your best all the time.

You want freedom.

You want to be able to hear your own voice.

The few privileges that come with fame aren't worth the cost.

At least they weren't to me.

With some of the guests during a tour. Image Credit: Author

Conclusion

Like I said, it was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

I traveled all over the world; I got to see places I would never have seen, experience things I otherwise never would have.

I'm so incredibly grateful for that.

But the experience left a dent in my soul; for over a year afterwards, I had nightmares - literal nightmares - where I would wake up in a cold sweat because I had dreamt that I was either back on a ship or had been told that I had to return for another contract.

I was always relived to wake up from those dreams.

The kind of love and acceptance that you might seek through fame isn't what you really want; the love of the crowd won't fill your heart and keep you warm at night.

Real love comes from the people who will be there without trying to "cancel" you; who will love you in your worst moments, when you're ugly crying with snot dribbling out of your nose. (Personally, that's my proof positive that my fiancé really does love me; he's handed me many tissues in those moments.)

Fame doesn't make people happy. It simply brings to the surface what they were already struggling with and puts it on a public platform. (Here's looking at poor Britney Spears again.)

That's why our society's idea of being rich and famous is wrong in my eyes.

How about rich and anonymous instead; doesn't that sound better?

Or rich, and famous within a certain niche; a big fish in a small pond, if you will.

Money is awesome; it's a great tool that can truly make life easier in so many ways.

But fame - as I discovered - isn't so nice. Because you don't know how valuable your anonymity is until you lose it.

I'm incredibly grateful to have been able to have this experience; to realize that being famous is not everything that society would have us believe it is.

I'm also exceedingly happy that my 'fame' was reversible; that the people who knew me on the ship have long since forgotten me, and that no one is paying particular attention to what I'm doing (or what I look like).

Don't wait for success - for fame - in order to feel as though you or your work are worthy.

Give that to yourself.

Love and accept yourself.

Validate yourself.

Allow who you are to be based on your own morals and values, instead of those of the world around you.

If you don't love and accept yourself, no amount of fame is ever going to fill your heart.

Final Words on Fame

I recognize that I'm so very lucky to have had this experience; I did things, saw things that many people never will.

I'll always be glad that I did it, but I know for sure that I never want to do it again.

And I'll say it again because I feel it so deeply: I'm so very, very glad that my fame was reversible.

That's generally not the case with real fame, the kind that happens on the world's stage. Once Pandora is out of the box, you can't put her back in, you don't get to change your mind.

So think very carefully before pursuing fame.

Being able to walk through the world anonymously - to have your privacy respected because you're not important enough for anyone to care - truly is a gift.

Trust me; that's all I can say.

Devil's Island, French Guiana. Image Credit: Author

---

The rest of the Jim Carey quote from my first post:

I’ve often said that I wish people could realize all their dreams and wealth and fame, so that they could see that it’s not where they’re gonna find their sense of completion.

Like many of you, I was concerned about going out into the world and doing something bigger than myself, until someone smarter than myself made me realize that there is nothing bigger than myself. 

My soul is not contained within the limits of my body, my body is contained within the limitlessness of my soul.

---

You might be asking yourself "How does this topic relate to recovery from binge-eating?" What I found is that - for me - finding new ways of thinking about life and its challenges helped me to stop stress-eating, and has been a very big part of my ability to stop binge-eating.

---

For more on changing your mindset and imagining good things click ⭐ here ⭐ to get my guide on Visualizations — yours FREE with subscription to my site.

---

Hey Friend! Thanks for reading. If you loved 💙 this post, why not subscribe? I promise to keep showing up for you with high-quality, thought-provoking content. Because every day is a good day to feel your best.

---

---