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Jenny Myst · (09-16-2017)

Dear Diary:

I have another big opportunity tomorrow night. I know what I can do, but I have failed time and time again to do it. I write this today thinking about the words that Miss Michelle said. Maybe I am a little girl in a grown woman's body. I think it gives me character, it gives me youth, it keeps me fresh. It keeps me alive.

How many times have I looked in the mirror and seen something I hate? I don't feel that way anymore. I enjoy what I see now. I am confident in my body. I am confident in my skills.

But I can't help thinking back to when I was younger. All I have ever been is a pretty face. All I have ever been is a piece of meat because I developed early and was exposed to sex from a young age. I've never had that career defining moment. Now I sit in this hotel, straightening my hair and stretching my hamstrings, and I realize that making it this far is more than I ever could have hoped for. I made it this far and I got a taste of what the good life feels like, and now I want more. I want to feel the rush of being looked up to instead of looked down on.

I went from being a fan to having fans in a years time. The turnaround was crazy. It was all rushing by me so fast, it still is. Girls have so much to worry about. Did we pack enough underwear. Did we remember our birth control? What is our cycle like, maybe we should wear black. Oh god, is that a zit? All of that on our minds, it doesn't matter our age. We are all little girls on the inside.

Every woman wants to feel worth something. Even the worst people can have the best moments. Sure, I haven't made the best choices and my morals can be called into question, but I know that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes, you have to wait on your moment. I don't feel like I have to wait much longer.

I was duped. I was "played like a fiddle". I made a mistake. We all make mistakes. We all send that text message we regret. We all say the wrong thing at the wrong time. We all mess up at something that should be easy. I messed up. I didn't check on Abigail like sometimes I don't check if my socks match. I made a mistake and I got punished for being nothing but human. But making mistakes, it is normal and expected---it is how you rebound from those mistakes that makes you the person you are.

I remember the days of homecoming football games and the dances that followed. I remember the feeling of slow dancing with the boy you crushed on, resting your head on his shoulder as the music took you away. You were a nobody then, but were trapped in a moment you never wanted to let go of. You were nothin but another person, going through life by the seat of your pants and never knowing what to expect but being ready to face whatever it was.

I feel that way now. I feel like I am slow dancing. I feel like my feet are moving in unison as the beat drums in my ears and the lights illuminate the world around me. I would give anything to have that moment again and now I do. The dance is just beginning in the world of this girl, and I am trying to find my date with glory. Instead of a cute guy, it is a material object. The Bombshell Title.

The little girl in me is scared and anxious, not knowing what lies ahead and not sure if she has gotten herself into a situation that is beneficial. The teenager inside me is squealing with excitement and anticipation at the upcoming opportunity. The woman I am is ready with her chin up for once and ready with a deep breath, focused on the task at hand and pepared to handle it with grace and civility. The champion inside me is ready to be the best I can be every night, while making mistakes as a human but recovering from them and moving on as a champion.

I write this today in limbo. My thoughts are a whirlwind. My emotions are a full scale military grade assault. I am up and down, sun and rain. I cry, I laugh, I cry again and then I laugh.

My most intimate thoughts go here. It is the only place I can express them. I feel like the girl sitting in her room again, indian style and scribbling in a little pink notebook all of her visions from the day--the week--the month--from life. I write this because I can finally write it down with some sort of coherance. I spin around like I am dizzy drunk, and fall back on the bed giggling with my headphones in.

Selfie after selfie posted to instagram.

People want to be me. I no longer want to be anyone but me. I see people dying their hair like mine, buying my makeup, wearing my clothes. It is humbling. More humbling than a title match loss could ever be. I am a bitch most of the time. I hate most people. They love me because I hate them.

How weird is that? It is also exhilarating.

I sit here, writing this as a girl, a woman. A human. The mistakes I have made have made me whole. I embrace them, I accept them. People can relate to me. I have tried my entire life to relate to any instance of normalcy I could but now I see those girls--lost and broken like I once was--seeing me as a beacon of the only normalcy left in a world that has passed them by like train with the brakes missing.

I do this for the girls like me who have no hope, like I once had. I do this for the ones who just want to be free.

I am a wrestler. I am a model. I am a manager. I am a girl. I am a woman. I am a human.

And because of that, I am perfect.

I do this for all of them like me, my little bombshells.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15th, 2017

6:20 PM

"Can someone please explain to me why Kim Anderson is even in this match? So pointless."

Jenny adjusts the camera, so her face is centered on the screen. The hotel lobby is packed to the brim with XWF promotional signs before the big show tomorrow night. Jenny sat at a big folding table with her high-priced publicist, ready to get this over with. A woman comes up to her off screen and Jenny smiles. "What's your name?"

"Tammy Lynn" the woman says."I love you!"

Jenny signs a poster for the women before looking at the camera.

"Your Michelle-STANS are exactly that, Stans. They are mindless drones. Brain washed, half-witted, trivial, simple-minded zombies who will wait on the edge of their seats, helmets strapped on, waiting for the next words to leave your lips. People don't like you because your anything special, they like you because they don't know any better. I have these fans too. I have people who want to be just like me. Women, children.....but while your followers hide behind a keyboard, I am a much more "public" figure, if ya know what I mean."

She shifts the camera to an older woman, old enough to be her grandmother, who has the exact same hair as Jenny does.

"People want to follow you....they want to BE me. I am a sex symbol, a modern day Marylin Monroe. I transcend everything that they thought they knew about women's wrestling. You're a princess, I am a GODDESS. THAT is the difference but I find it humorous that you spent an entire an laptop battery telling us all something we already knew. I AM a jezebel.....but guess what, Missy, jezebel's sell. Newsflash. Your 'fans' are overweight troglodytes with barbecue sauced stained twitter fingers and cellulite they blame on "baby weight". They are content to watch your webcast videos and ogle the greatness they are tricked into believing . My fans want to BE that greatness. I give my fans a reason to be happy about their appearance. Dress like me and you can feel good about yourself. Watch Michelle's videos and you can feel good about your internet connection.

I am out there, hands on, in the public eye.

You are making live streams from hotel bathrooms.

Don't think I didn't notice. Tammy Lynn here said it best when she watched your first attempt at "tough bitch". Tammy Lynn said, "is she taking a shit while filming?!" Now you may not think much of it, but the handicap assitance bar gave it away. For god sakes if you're putting yourself out on the internet, be a little more selective about where you do your business.....

See what I did there?

And your first attempt was cute, it was. All smiles and hearts then passionate champion. You're faker than Kim Kardashian's ass. I see right through it and so does everyone else. You claim that this belt would be disgraced if it bounced from Abigail to you then to me. False. Then I would lose it in my first defense? Also false. You see, despite popular belief, this belt WAS made for ME. This women's roster explosion is happening because of ME. Roxy felt nauseated at me being the only woman on this roster worth two squirts of piss, so she made a belt and then hustled her ass with street-walker desperation to sign new "talent" to make sure I don't achieve what I deserve. It's all a conspiracy, but the plot of unraveling. I was sitting in the side car of greatness and it wasn't long before I gave up on this division and started going for the men's belts. I WAS THE WOMEN'S DIVISION. So, she made a belt to keep me satisfied and keep Vinnie's blood pressure down, and decided that she was going to dig up old XWF talent to try and thwart any opportunity that comes my way. Try again. I still haven't been pinned in one on one match by an ACTIVE member of the Women's Roster. And I don't plan to be.

Now before you start throwing Roxy's match in my face, lets take a second to clear this up. Roxy is NOT an active member of the women's division. She is nothing more than a glorified secretary who signs the checks while Vinnie is busy building pillow forts to keep the Kings™ from finding him. We see you, Vin, you can come out now.

I'll admit she has made it difficult for me. She has distracted my quest by throwing the So Gay sisters at me in back to back weeks. Now I have righted the ship and I am churning at 60 knots towards the destination I originally planned. The Bombshell Championship is as good as mine, lets face it.

Bitch Michelle Said:Jenny Myst isn’t ready for this title. She’s not mentally mature enough to handle the responsibility that comes with a championship.

You have never been more wrong about anything in your life. I need self confidence? You have no idea what I have battled through to get mentally where I am at. I'll admit, a few months ago, I wouldn't have been ready to shoulder this load. Now, I am getting better every day and will ascend to the top of this company as the true face of perfection, my title round my flawless waist.

As far as Kandi Washington is concerned, I don't know much about her. She was here when I was here but she didn't last. She was gone in the blink of an eye. I understand she had an idiom of success here but that doesn't matter to anyone but you. Living in the past Michelle, not looking forward. Kandi Washington is gone for good, and you need to start realizing that Jenny Myst is the new measure of success in this company.

1 Kings 16:31? I am glad you were able to stumble upon Wikipedia during your bowel movement promo, but you are looking at this far too literally. Grasping at straws. Trying everything you can to muster up an insult but falling flat on your face.

If ever the Devil was born without a pair of horns
It was you, Jezebel, it was you
If ever an angel fell
Jezebel, it was you, Jezebel, it was you!

I am the devil without the horns, Michelle. I am the face of sin in your world of good and you can't stand it. You hate it. I can put aside that you had an entire paragraph from Wikipedia, spoken out like a news anchor off a teleprompter in your monotone drone, because I find it so entertaining that you hate me cuz you ain't me.

As stated in 1 Kings 16:31 jezebel was a manipulative wife who tried to ultimately takeover an entire kingdom. Per myth “the Phoenician wife of Ahab who according to the account in I and II Kings pressed the cult of Baal on the Israelite kingdom but was finally killed in accordance with Elijah's prophecy."

I am so glad you know how to copy and paste, Michelle. So proud of you!

I am so glad that you were able to spend almost 3,000 words telling us the exact same thing as everyone else has. You used elegant terminology to say the same damn thing.

"JENNY MYST IS A WHORE! SHE IS NOT GOOD FOR THE BUSINESS! SHE IS ARROGANT AND BRASH AND OVERCONFIDENT!"

Hey, I'll give ya this, at least you didn't use a hashtag.

Jenny shivers.

"Eeerrragh. Yuck. You're not entertaining at all. I'd rather be as entertaining as a dial tone than meandering through life with virtually zero pulse and the personality of a dish towel. You have fans because you're marginally attractive. I have fans because I am an enigma. And this enigma is about to be bombshell champion......for a long......long time. Now THAT is........Perfection."

Jenny smiles as Tammy Lynn steps back. She looks out at the line of fans, and every single one of them look like her. The publicist puts a poster down in front of her and hands her a pink sharpie. She smiles at the camera before looking down at the poster and signing it with a PERFECTION tag.

"Next!" She said as the line shifted forward.

The publicist whispered something in her ear. He was a high powered Jew paid to count the petty, little things.

"Ha. Nice job. 2503 words. There are limits for a reason! Her promo should be DQ'd.........but experience is on her side, right?! Psssht. She will probably have the tech department edit it after this to make me look stupid......what a phony. Psssht. Idiot."

She signs another.

"NEXT!"

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