The Diva Rules

by Michelle Visage

As babies, none of us were afraid to demand attention, make noise, cry out for love, be in our bodies, laugh, sing, play, dance, experiment. We ruled every room, and it felt perfectly natural, because we never once even thought to question our right to be completely amazing, to take up space, to be purely ourselves. And then, we grow up and screw up. We get self-consciousness. We allow insecurities to sneak in. We start to harbor shame for who we are (or who we want to be). And before long, that twinkle in our eyes starts to fade. Our God-given glitter—gasp!—comes unglued. And we start making decisions based not on what’s spectacular, but on what’s safe.

unless your name is Mariah, being a diva doesn’t always pay the bills. And until it does, you need a day job. There’s no shame in that. We all do whatever it takes to survive. But always, always remember this: Just because you have to clock in from nine to five, or work on the assembly line, or field customer service calls all day, or shuffle papers, or sell shit you don’t give a shit about doesn’t mean you have to ever stop being fabulous.

Bitchiness comes from a place of insecurity, but being a diva comes from a place of strength and love. When you’re a diva, you know deep down, regardless of what anyone else says about you, that you’re beautiful. You also know that if you live in a place of light and generosity, rather than in fear or darkness, good things will come to you. So, when a diva calls people on their bullshit—and, honey, you know how much we love to do this—we do it out of love. Tough love, yes, but it’s still love, because unlike with a nasty bitch, other people’s success and happiness do not threaten us. They inspire us. There’s always room for more joy for me, for you, for everyone.

While divas make everything they do look easy, they actually work harder than anyone else. Behind all the glamour is always grit. And once you’ve got the determination and the do-whatever-it-takes work ethic instilled in you, it will never leave you.

You can spend hours and a ton of money perfecting your flawless face and sick body, but if you don’t have the personality or the sense of humor to back it up, then you’re focusing on the wrong damn things. An ugly personality always trumps a beautiful face. Always. And anyone who doesn’t know that isn’t a diva. She’s just an asshole with an attitude.

PEOPLE SPEND A LOT OF TIME TRYING TO FIT IN, hoping to be accepted, because they think fitting in will make them feel “normal.” But it doesn’t make you normal. It makes you average, and average is something a diva never wants to be. You are anything but average, and if you can remember that, you can approach the world from a place of strength, rather than weakness. So even if you feel like a misfit, be thankful for it. It’s what makes you stand out from the crowd.

When you live your life in the audience, you start to seek approval from the other people in it, and then you become a giant, predictable bore. But when you’re courageous enough to stand in front of the crowd, and really speak up, you become more powerful. And if you can do that, you’ll never be part of the chorus of someone else’s show. Instead, you’ll always be the lead diva in your own musical.

I never cared about cliques. All I cared about was being talented and funny,

don’t ever, ever count on anybody else to do the work for you. It’s all on you, and that’s as it should be. Because if you don’t earn your success yourself, I guarantee that it’s not going to last. You’ve got to work it to get it, and then you’ve got to work it to keep it. If you can remember that, you’ll do just fine.

If you’re not liking the people around you, it’s up to you to change your surroundings and find new people. And keep an open mind, because you never know who will become your next BFF.

This may come as a shocker to you, or maybe it’ll just be a relief: No diva feels beautiful every single moment of every single day. I don’t care if you’re Gisele and your legs are five miles long, there will be times when self-doubt creeps into your psyche and just clobbers the shit out of you.

Believing I was gorgeous is what made me so fierce. It’s part of what gave me the confidence to enter into Vogue battles against any other queen who dared to step up against me. It allowed me to open myself up to other people for the first time, because I no longer felt threatened by anyone else. And please don’t get me wrong here. I’m not saying I felt better or prettier than anyone else. I didn’t think that, and I still sure as hell don’t. I’m saying that when I realized I had beauty to offer just by being me, I also understood that everyone else did too.

The biggest sin you could make at a ball (and, I’d argue, also in life) was to be boring, so we held nothing back.

IF YOU WANT TO SUCCEED, YOU’VE GOT TO LEARN HOW TO GIVE GOOD FACE, and that doesn’t mean you’ve got to be pretty. It means you’ve got to own who you are and what you’ve got, know that you’re beautiful, and, baby, act like it. On Drag Race, I often critique these young queens by saying they’re not showing enough of themselves. They hide behind the wigs and the makeup and the characters they play, fearful that if they reveal who they really are, they’ll not be good enough, or likable enough. We all do that in life sometimes. When we’re scared that we don’t measure up, we hide behind things: excuses, other people, schticks, fake personas. But here’s the thing: If you’re constantly hiding behind something or someone else, life will pass you by. Opportunities will pass you by. Relationships will pass you by. Back in the ball scene, if you wanted to win the Face category, you had to be willing to strip yourself down, take everything off, and let your own best features shine through. The same holds true in life. If you want to win, you have to be willing to be vulnerable. Believe me, I know. That’s what gave me my name, and ultimately, my power.

YOU DO YOU. I don’t care who you are, everybody needs to feel loved. In fact, that desire is so strong in all of us that sometimes we’re willing to do anything to get it, including becoming someone we’re not. But here’s the thing: If you start changing yourself—who you are, how you act, and what you care about—just to please other people, you will fail not only them but, more important, yourself.

WE ALL SO DESPERATELY WANT TO BE ACCEPTED, which is why it’s so easy, when you join a group (whether it’s a new circle of friends, an office, or a community) to let it swallow you up. But I’m telling you now: Do not let that happen to you. Don’t be so quick to give up your own identity just to fit in. Because, in the long run, just belonging to a scene isn’t enough. To be a diva, you’ve got to cultivate your own strengths and your own personality within it. Hang on to what sets you apart, because that is what makes you special. When I look at all of my friends who survived those many nights on the piers, the ones who made it, the ones who are truly happy now, they are also the ones who never lost themselves there. They could pop, dip, and spin with the best of them, but they also studied dance, music, photography, fashion, or whatever was their personal passion. Sure, they no longer rule the piers . . . because now they rule the world.

Nobody else is going to look out for your best interests. That’s your job, and if you don’t take it seriously, that one moment of stupidity could haunt you for years.

It’s also why I don’t drink. The six times in my life that I have been drunk, I became someone I didn’t like at all. Let me say this: I am a Virgo, and I admittedly have control issues. I was the girl who didn’t know how drunk she was until she was crouched between two parked cars, puking on her own Doc Martens. And after I’d spew my Malibu and pineapple juice, my Kahlua and cream, my black Sambuca, basically anything with a sugar content of 5,000 grams or more, girl, that’s when the party really started. Booze does things to me that make me want to do things to other people. It makes me lose all control of my sexual urges, like ZERO boundaries. If I’m Princess Sluttypants when I’m sober, give me a few cocktails and I’m suddenly Whorella, Queen of the Harlots. Every single one of those six times I got wasted, I’d throw myself at whichever guy or girl was within reach. Once in Manhattan, once in Brooklyn, and once in Jersey, I’ve even awakened in an orgiastic pit of naked people only to regret what I didn’t even know. Not really my scene. And I’m damn lucky all of this happened before smartphones and the Internet. So, yeah, it didn’t take long for me to realize drinking was not a good look for me. At all. Ever. I do, however, enjoy always being the sober one and watching the shenanigans. There is definitely a reason why the stuff is called “spirits.”

YOU SPEND HOURS PERFECTING THAT #SELFIE and hundreds, sometimes thousands on those clothes. So, when the time comes for you to walk the runway of life, don’t be so effed up you stumble. It’s not that the fabulous don’t ever fall. (When we do, we do it spectacularly.) It’s that if you’re going to fall flat on your face, you want it to be because you reached for the stars and missed, not because you reached for that tenth drink and got pissed. Keep it classy, kids. Remember there is a time and a place for everything. Use your head.

I am just saying that serving up some real sweetness, coupled with sweet realness, has definitely helped me in my life.

WHEN COMPETITION GETS FIERCE, as it always has and always will on the great dance floor of life, it’s easy to get down on the other bitches gunning for you. It’s easy to hate them for stealing your moves or for making you feel scared or for even existing. How dare they! But rather than throw shade and hate, here’s what I want you to do instead: Fill your heart with gratitude and thank every single one of them for making you try harder, risk more, and be better than you ever would have been without them. Without the people who are constantly trying to outshine us, we would be the big, giant C word: complacent! (What did you think I was gonna say?)

Insecurity is a greedy bitch, and she only stops when there’s nothing left of you to take. So if you give in to her, even just a little, you will spiral downward, and the lower you feel, the harder it’ll be to rescue yourself.

during the split second when I go from offstage to onstage, right as I’m about to sashay into the spotlight, I somehow find the courage, or maybe just the grit, to beat that nasty bitch back until I can no longer hear her voice over my own. Being able to find your fierceness, even in your weakest, most vulnerable moments, is what makes you a diva.