True You by Janet Jackson

Jerome Benton, and Monte Moir. My mom was sitting next to me and saw how excited I was by the show. These guys weren’t funky; they were
super-funky
, and brilliant musicians to boot. I fantasized about singing with a group like that.
    When I got to Minneapolis, these were the guys I got to work with. I was completely comfortable because, in many ways, they reminded me of my brothers. They were good-natured and lived for music. Today when I watch the videos I made for
Control
, I remember being so energized by this new direction. I loved the new music and the new, independent life I was leading.
    The success of
Control
was wonderful. The record was an international hit. My popularity soared, and I was suddenly seen as an artist in my own right, distinct from my family’s success. I was gratified. But I was still under the illusion that total control was possible. This is the more complex part of the story.
    Gaining artistic and management control was vital to me then and still is now. Working with Jimmy and Terry, I was passionate in writing songs, lyrics, telling my own story, and finding my own voice. I had to do that apart from my past. And yet, as I would soon see, none of us is really in control. If we continue to grasp for absolute control, we’re going to end up in greater frustration and eventually in anger and even rage.
    I’m still attracted to control, but I also know that an attraction can become an addiction. The more I have, the more I want. Justas there is no drink that will set the alcoholic free, no drug to liberate the junkie, there is no amount of control that will satisfy that kind of freak.
    Only God is in total control.
    Not me, not you, not anyone.
    We make plans. We rehearse. We prepare. We seek good advice from good advisers. We organize our lives to maximize our potential. We seek to change in positive ways. We seek to grow.
    And then here comes reality. Here comes an unexpected turn of events. A storm. A sickness. A betrayal. A promotion. We find a lost treasure. We lose a treasured friend, or a sister, or a brother. Our career soars, or our career sags.
    We work to do the best we can and be the best we can. But can we control it all?
    We can’t. And when we finally stop trying, we realize the benefits of relaxation, acceptance, and peace of mind.
     
    In many ways, whether
in control or not, I was still
preoccupied about body
rather than soul. I knew
that had to change.
 

    In concert for
Rhythm Nation,
feeling your love and feeling fraudulent at the same time.

Rhythm Nation
    A s I approached age twenty-one, I realized that I had worried far too long about having a perfect body. I knew that the comparisons others had made between my body type and non–African American body types were unfair. I had internalized those comparisons and on some level had actually been traumatized by them. I wanted to be free of all that.
    Before
Control
was released, a record company executive told me how he ordered the art director to take an X-Acto knife and slim down my image on the cover.
    “You look too heavy,” he said.
    When it came time to do the “What Have You Done for Me Lately” video, the record people thought it was important that I appear thinner. That’s all I needed to hear! I’d been told that my whole life, but at this critical juncture, with my career taking off, I didn’t have the wherewithal to argue. Once again, I went along with the program.
    I went to Canyon Ranch in Arizona with Paula Abdul, then a choreographer and friend. We shared a house and spent weeks exercising. I loved the natural beauty of my surroundings, but I hated the exercise. I’ve always hated it. Still, I was as motivated as ever to come out on top. I did the strenuous routine, the running, the hiking, the no-nonsense diet. I felt good when it was over. I enjoyed the compliments about my “new” shape. I shot the video and did in fact reshape my image. But at what cost?
    It was a time in my life when I should