So when reports of my husband’s infidelities became national news one fateful March morning, I was the lucky recipient of the world’s biggest gut punch. Yes, the writing was on the wall that my husband was far from perfect, and, yes, every so often my curiosity would rear its head, but I chose to ignore it because life was good-plus, even if I believed it, I couldn’t prove a damn thing-in fact, it was great. And I was the perfect little Hollywood housewife. It’s not a science, but I’m pretty certain my husband was getting more than his fair share of roadside assistance.īut, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss: I had a beautiful, six-bedroom home in Calabasas, a full-time nanny, a brand-new Range Rover, an $11,500 boob job, two wonderful little boys, and a gorgeous Cuban husband. Like, what man has baby wipes in the center console of his Porsche? Please, like he ever changed a diaper. It was a cold, sunny morning the day my world fell apart. So I, Brandi Glanville, am here to bestow this simple but valuable piece of information on you: if you discover your partner is cheating, drink like it’s your last party, blame everyone else for your problems, let “binging” be your new favorite hobby, and, by all means, FUCKING PANIC. Absolute hysteria is just the beginning-you’re about to embark on an entire roller coaster of crazy-ass emotions. The rug has just been pulled out from beneath your feet, and everything you thought you knew with absolute certainty has vanished. It’s time to freak the fuck out, and that’s not just acceptable, it’s obligatory. It’s the God’s honest truth, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either completely blowing smoke up your ass, a lawyer, or my ex-husband. I’m here to tell you that if your husband, wife, boyfriend, or girlfriend is cheating, life, as you know it, is over. Really? Who are these people? I discovered that my husband of eight years was banging every short skirt-and wide back-in Hollywood after seeing it on the cover of a celebrity-gossip magazine, but I’m supposed to stay calm? I’m supposed to eat shit with a fork and a knife and say thank you when I’m done swallowing this crap?įuck off. If He Walks like a Duck and Talks like a Duck . . .
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