Paris: A Memoir for Young Women in the Age of Influencers

by Paris Hilton

Nicole Richie and I were ride or die from our terrible twos, and we’ll stay that way until the world ends.

“What a slut. What a bitch.” All the generic comments that apply to the girl everyone loves after she becomes the girl they love to hate.

“Let’s not spend our time arguing,” said Mom. “This is hard for all of us. We have to be strong. We have one year left before you turn eighteen. This is our last chance to save you. We have to see it through.”

Adam digs a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and says, “See these right here? These are magic sunglasses, okay? If you’re afraid, you put ’em on, and they make you invisible. Keep those on and no one can notice you until you decide they can.” I was immediately like, yes. That works! That’s why I always need my sunglasses with me, night or day.

The first step to self-reinvention is inventory. Give yourself credit for everything you’ve got going for you. Whatever’s going against you, figure out how to use it to your advantage.

It was a vicious cycle. Like Groundhog Day without the adorable groundhog.

We expected girls to be sexualized and then condemned for their sexuality, punished for both silence and speaking out, told we should accept responsibility for our choices and then called crazy or stupid or slutty if we didn’t live by the rules other people chose for us. I’m happy to see a new generation of girls—and guys—rejecting that tired way of being.

TikTok and Instagram made it easy for me to pretend my life was a perfect fairy tale, but in fact, my fairy tale life is the one that didn’t happen: elite prep school, Ivy League college, graduate studies abroad, a career in animal science, a nice husband and children. All that disappeared before I had a chance to even imagine it. Now I was trapped inside that Simple Life caricature, this me-but-not-really person who was out in the world living my life.

Don’t waste energy living a life someone else designed for you. Life is one per customer. Let them do theirs. You do yours.

The people who hurt you don’t get the last word. You get to tell the story of you, and your story has more power than you can imagine.