Me (14 page)

Around that time, I recorded a song with Madonna called “Be Careful (
Cuidado Con Mi Corazón
),” and upon seeing the intensity with which the press followed me, and how willing I was to always promote, she said to me, “Ricky, stop doing interviews. Everyone knows who you are.” And that truth struck me like a lightning bolt. It took me some time to process this—and more than that, to apply it to my life—but one day I finally understood exactly what she meant. I had spent so much time focused on doing publicity, being available, and always giving, giving, and giving to reach my goal that I didn’t realize that, to a certain degree, I had already reached it, and surpassed it without even noticing. That is when I understood that the rules of the game had changed and that I had to find a way to reclaim control of my time and my life. But that would not happen for a long time, because, like everything else in life, it wasn’t my moment yet. Before I found my peace I would have to get to that particular moment when I really just couldn’t take it anymore.

Back then, my cardinal rule was to always give as much as possible and then some, because with every little bit I gave, I got so much back, and that would make me want to give even more. Sometimes I say that it wasn’t that I was working too hard. I was just giving too much. It’s just that the validation from fans is intense. I believed I was ready for that kind of success—after all, I had been in the spotlight since I was twelve years old—but I soon realized I wasn’t. I wanted to scream: “Wait! I can’t deal with so much. Let me just stop for a moment!”

For a long time, I believed that the success we reached with “María” and
Vuelve
would be the grand culmination of my career. But after the success of “Livin’ La Vida Loca,” that all seemed like child’s play. I always say that things come to my life at the exact moment when they need to, not before and not after, and I receive them with a loving heart. But this time, it was completely overwhelming. I did everything I could do to keep myself moving at a thousand miles per hour, to take advantage of the fantastic opportunity that had been given to me, but it was inevitable that I would get to the point where I would just not be able to take it anymore. And just as it is important to know how to accept things that destiny sends us, it is also crucial to know when to stop and take a step back from that which could harm us. The success I had achieved was monumental and nourished me in a very particular way, but it was also leaving some invisible wounds in its wake that would require some time to heal. All the mania lasted more or less two years, by the end of which I was completely empty and numb. In fact, I didn’t
want
to feel anything anymore. I did everything I had to do without thinking, practically on autopilot. The only thing that truly gave me pleasure was being onstage. It was the only place in the world where I felt utterly free. That’s where I did exactly what I liked to do, how I liked to do it, when I wanted to do it, and the energy of the audience always fed my soul. That is when I again became Kiki, the little boy in his grandparents’ house having a good time, making jokes, dancing and singing. Onstage, I felt strong and free to be who I am, how I am, without any fears or pretenses. But later, when the show would end, I’d rush back home to hide and disconnect. Everything always hurt, and although no one could really see it, internally I was suffering. Most people can’t imagine that it is possible to be surrounded by people at almost all times and yet still feel completely alone. Or that being on the road isn’t always as glamorous as it looks. After a while, you just want to sleep in your own bed.

I didn’t want to go on, but to any proposal that came my way I would always say, “Yes, yes, let’s go! I am ready.” In some ways, this behavior was a result of my “military training,” but I was also clearly trying to escape from the pain I carried deep inside. As long as I was always working, I had no sense of what I was really feeling. Deep down I was afraid of what I might find. So I’d concentrate on what “I had to do” and just kept moving forward.

Today it is very easy to see where this path was leading me. I realize that with
Sound Loaded
many mistakes were made and many decisions were hastily made. It was way too soon to come out with another album. In fact, it was so soon that when the first single was released, many people thought it was a song from the previous album,
Ricky Martin
. After the megasuccess of
Ricky Martin
, it was important to let some time pass before releasing a second record. I should have stopped, even for just a little bit. However, the record label needed its next hit, and when they pushed me to do it, I didn’t say no. I didn’t really want to stop, because stopping would have forced me to think about all kinds of things I did not want to analyze.

BEING AN ARTIST MEANS YOU ARE CONSTANTLY LOOKING
for the approval of others. Be it in music, writing, painting, or dance, art, by definition, seeks to interact and connect with its audience. For me, this is a fundamental aspect of what I do. The moments I am happiest are when I find myself on a stage, surrounded by my musicians, and facing a massive audience that is worked up and genuinely excited about my music. I love feeling that the people enjoy my music, that it means something in their lives, and that we are in some way connecting. When someone likes what I do, that feeds my soul.

There are artists who say they create music or make their art for themselves, and that the public’s approval is irrelevant. Even though it is a point of view I fully respect, I don’t share in this belief. I am a performer because I love my music and I love to dance, but if no one else liked it, I wouldn’t feel so good. Call it ego, fear of failure, the need to be accepted, or whatever you like, but I honestly feel that music has to create a real
connection
with the world around it.

That’s why, when “María” took off, then
“La Copa de la Vida”
and later “Livin’ La Vida Loca,” I was overjoyed. All of this work, the travel, the hours spent in the studio, giving interviews, photo sessions . . . I was now reaping the rewards of all the work and I felt deeply that I was living through a uniquely extraordinary moment, a veritable blessing. However, that moment—the moment I had longed for with every last bit of my will—brought with it a whole series of challenges I was perhaps not ready to face. To a large degree I was already used to doing what other people expected of me: At the onset of my career, when I always followed the band managers’ instructions, and later, when I did the same for the theater and television directors with whom I worked, with the record producers, the label executives . . . I spent so much time following the advice of others—most of it well-intentioned, thankfully—that without realizing it, I had begun to lose my own identity. I so badly wanted things to go well and to reach the success I had always yearned for that I seldom stopped to consider if I could realistically do—never mind
want
to do—everything that was expected of me. The years of my rise to fame were an amazing era for me—there’s no doubt about that—but they were also the years when I felt I was beginning to lose sight of where it was all going.

GUIDANCE FROM THOSE who have walked the path before you is very valuable, and another piece of useful advice Madonna gave me was, “Ricky, if music, art, or your career start to take over your life, disconnect. You have to be the one who controls your career; don’t let it control you.” Of course, Madonna is a very wise woman, and I totally got what she meant, but it was hard for me to put it into practice.

The year prior to the Grammy Awards, I didn’t feel that music or my career controlled me. The entire world was listening to my songs and I felt I was at my peak, in full control of everything that was in the works. Even so, there were things that gave me a bit of anxiety. I was completely focused on doing everything I could to maintain the extraordinary momentum that had gotten me to this point, but there were still moments when I felt that the workdays were too long, simply because I was incapable of saying no. My manager would show up with an itinerary and I would say yes to everything, without ever stopping to consider the consequences. I was, of course, enjoying my success, but I can’t stop thinking that maybe I was also trying to escape from the heavy emotional burden I carried. Just like when I was in Menudo, when I focused on work all the time because, to a certain degree, I wanted to escape what was happening between my parents, during the craziness of “Livin’ La Vida Loca” I think I was also trying to avoid the ever-lurking contradictory emotions regarding my sexuality. To a certain extent, being busy all the time meant that I didn’t have to think about uncomfortable things.

It was around that time that I again started to date the wonderful woman whom I had met in Mexico. Being with her always gave me so much peace. There was a lot of love and attraction between us and I felt safe with her. I felt cared for. Focused. During all the time I spent with her, I never looked at anyone else. I never even wanted anyone else, and our relationship really made me feel anchored. It provided me with a stability that I had been missing from my life for a long time, and it allowed me to keep a distance from the attraction I felt for men, which always made me feel so guilty. I felt great when I was with her; I loved her and felt loved by her, so there was no reason for me to think about anything or anyone else.

But the illusion that I had my career and personal life under control didn’t last long. My relationship with this incredible woman lasted a little while longer, and after a lot of back and forth, we broke up for good. It’s hard to explain what makes a relationship end, and although I clearly see today that my own inner conflicts had a lot to do with it, there are other factors that made us drift apart, and we finally decided—always with a lot of love and affection—to separate.

And that’s when I began to lose control.

While my team and I worked nonstop to keep the whole operation moving smoothly, with promotional tours, concerts, and videos, all of a sudden, my personal life became a constant topic for the media. Naturally, the public wanted to know who this Ricky Martin was, this guy everyone was talking about, and so they started to ask. In every single interview I gave around that time, people wanted to know where I was from, what my childhood had been like, what my parents were like, if I had someone special in my life. . . .

There is a fundamental difference between movie stars and singers that most people don’t realize. When an actor promotes a film, interview questions generally revolve around the actor’s role in that project, the film’s subject matter, and the on-set experience; there is a countless number of subjects that can be explored without having to make the artist’s personal life the central topic of the conversation. However, when it comes to a singer, there is a much smaller range of topics to be discussed, and the conversation tends to focus on the artist’s personal life, which is ultimately the inspiration for his or her music. The questions tend to be more personal in nature, especially when, as in my case, the music depicts themes of love and romantic disappointment.

Since I never said no, there were interviews with me in every single magazine, on every television show, and in every newspaper. My videos were on MTV every ten minutes. In the interviews I said very little about my private life, and since what I did say gave them very little to talk about—I was a healthy guy, a hard worker, with no vices—I suppose there were some members of the press who were intent on discovering my “dark side.”

And that’s how the rumors started. I have no idea exactly how they began, or who may have said what, but the fact was that stories started to crop up in the tabloids saying that I had been with this or that guy—ironically, none of them was true, even though I was, in fact, having relationships with men. I understand that rumors sell magazines, and often this is what people want to read, but the truth is that the invasion into my private life hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t understand why I had become the target of so much speculation. All I wanted was to continue with my music and live my life without anyone meddling. I had naively believed that despite being a celebrity, I still had a right to my privacy.

The rest of the world didn’t think so.

IN TRUTH, THE problem was not so much that there were rumors going around about my sexuality. The real problem was that I myself did not know how I felt about the subject. Even though I had relationships with men after separating from my first love, I still was not ready to accept myself as gay. My moment had still not arrived, and even though we all know now that the rumors were based on truth, the reality was that in my mind it was still not a fact. It was a topic I constantly struggled with, one that caused me a lot of pain and anxiety. And every time someone wrote in an article that I was a homosexual, or each time this was asked of me in an interview—and not very subtly—it pushed me further away from my truth. The rumors and questions only increased my insecurity and my self-rejection; they reminded me of all the reasons why I was uncomfortable in my own skin. At times I felt I hated myself. Because it was always presented under such a negative lens, as something scandalous and bad, it reinforced my desire to deny what I was feeling. And since at that moment I was so far from being ready to come out, the only result was that the whole thing caused me a serious amount of pain.

Years later, a biographical documentary was made about me for television, and they interviewed a lot of people from the industry, as well as music journalists. In that piece, they said something I think is very astute: When such a huge phenomenon as Ricky Martin hits the music world, it attracts a great deal of envy and a lot of hatred as well. It’s sometimes referred to as “player hating.” Joe Levy, who was the editor of
Blender
at the time, couldn’t have said it better: “When a pop star is too well-dressed, too well-groomed or is too perfect, it is as easy to hate him as it is to like him.” It’s possible that some people wanted to dig up some gossip about me, or say something that in their eyes might be negative, for the simple reason that they didn’t want me to do well. Whatever the reason may be, the fact remains that for me it was a time of great anguish.