I have a question.  With your frank discussion and “nothing to hide” attitude towards the unhappy times of your past, I wonder:

If your current marriage were to also become unhappy, would you be honest about it in “real-time”? The emergence of your blog (and subsequent book) seems to be an “I changed my life” story.

Do you feel obligated to maintain an “all is rosy” position from now on?  It seems like you are banking your future on the success of the “re-do”. What if you found out that the hedge fund manager has a penchant for hookers, or the love life gets boring?

Are you addicted to the “Stephanie: The success story” or do you have a healthy perspective and distance between the real you and the “public” you?  Clearly, you either enjoy the notoriety of being the SUAD girl or your career positioning simply demands it

This is not meant as an attack.  I’d love to see if you are willing to answer the question.

To which I respond: I absolutely feel that pressure to be the happy ending. No question about it. I mean, how successful could a memoir about addiction recovery be if after a few years the author relapsed, right? That’s essentially what you’re asking. And I’m answering.

We’re all human. I think after reading Moose, if you read Moose, you’ll see that I really don’t make it about a happy ending. Though I suppose to look at how far I’ve come, that’s the happy ending. I have absolutely turned to friends and said, “will people still like me, trust me, want my advice, if I split up with Phil?” Or if I were to gain more weight, would people stop caring? And intellectually, I know that people don’t read me for my happy ending. They read, I assume, because I’m honest, real, sometimes funny, and I make people think. Do I have all the answers? No. But does that change any of the advice I included in my books? Hell, no. Besides, it’s not about knowing the advice; it’s about living it. And I’m doing the best I can; and that’s enough.