“I hope you die!” she told her former babysitter.
Her first wedding took place on the beach.
She thinks her new look is “a little rebellious.”
Despite her humble birth on July 1, 1967, in Ladysmith, British Columbia, to a waitress and jack-of-all-trades, the brunette in the photo’s birth was reported in a newspaper. She was the first centennial baby.
She went on to have an extraordinary life sparked by another instance of being in the right place at the right time. However, she first had to survive a traumatic childhood of violence and abuse.
Her parents were 17 and 19 when they had her and still went out occasionally. Somewhere between the ages of four and eight, she had a female babysitter who molested her for around a year.
The babysitter “sexualized” the girl at a very young age, making her play inappropriate games. One day, the caretaker told her because she is a “bad girl,” Santa Claus would not visit her that year.
“I ran after her in tears, calling her a liar… and clumsily stabbed her with a candy-cane-striped pen in her chest,” she penned in her memoir. “‘I hope you die!’ I screamed through tears.”
The female predator died in a car accident following her graduation not long after. On hearing the news, the girl came to believe it was her doing, that she had some extraordinary power. She carried this with her for her “entire young life,” eventually confiding in her mom and dad.
Her parent’s volatile relationship would also cause her to act out. Once, when the couple was fighting, she tried to divert attention away from it by telling her younger brother to hide while she convinced the town that he was missing.
Her father would dole out cruel punishments. When she went against his wishes to have her kittens in the house, he placed them in a paper bag and drowned them in the ocean. “I felt like I died that night, too,” she remembers.
Between ages 12 and 14, she was sexually assaulted twice, and a boyfriend kicked her out of a moving car. She once stopped her father from assaulting her mom further by punching him.
The young brunette became known as “Blue Zone Girl” when she was spotted on a jumbotron at a football game, but she would soon be renowned worldwide by her real name, Pamela Anderson.
A beer company scouted her as a spokesmodel, leading to a Playboy shoot. A “Home Improvement” role brought her into the mainstream, but she became a superstar portraying CJ on “Baywatch.”
Her whirlwind romance with drummer Tommy Lee crescendoed into a wedding on the beach in Cancun, Mexico, in 1995, where she wore a white string bikini and he was in trunks. The couple had two children, Dylan Jagger and Brandon Thomas.
The footage they made during their honeymoon was stolen and sold as one of the first sex tapes of the internet era. The actress has never watched the tape but has felt its effects. She wrote how it “ruined lives,” starting with their relationship.
Lee was jailed for four months after he was found guilty of spousal abuse, and they divorced in 1998. She filed for full custody of the children in 2012, claiming that he was emotionally and physically abusive towards them.
Anderson has experienced a resurgence in her career. She has taken back the narrative surrounding her crafted by the media with a memoir, “Love, Pamela,” and participating in the companion Netflix documentary.
Returning to her coastal hometown of Ladysmith, Anderson found a “healing space” with its “crazy calmness.” With limited paparazzi on the island, she feels protected. She lives alone with her five dogs.
“I live a more romantic life now that I’m alone than I did in relationships,” Anderson said of the home she made in her grandparent’s old farmhouse.
The humanitarian runs through the waves on the beach adjoined to her property year-round. When not working, she keeps busy in the 15,000-square-foot vegetable and rose garden and has taken up pottery. “I’m very crafty. I didn’t realize,” she said.
In an interview with People in January 2023, she conceded that she would like to have someone to share her life but that it tended to be a case of her catering to her partner’s needs. After Lee, she wed Kid Rock and married Rick Salomon twice (one of which was annulled).
Her most recent marriage to Dan Hayhurst lasted only a few months and ended in 2021. The “V.I.P.” star has learned that she does not need a man to bring her roses:
“I’ve just planted a hundred rose bushes. I can get them any time I want — and they’re my favorite roses.”
She told Elle in August 2023 that the early morning hours were her favorite time. Anderson spends this time writing a newsletter, though she quipped she does this to distract herself from writing long, rambling emails to her sons.
Just as gardening and writing in the mornings replaced the party lifestyle she enjoyed at the height of her fame, so has her signature beauty look morphed into something else.
She was known for big blond hair, thin brows, and heavy eye makeup with tiny outfits that were, by her own account, “wild and uninhibited.” Anderson added:
“I don’t know if it was a defense mechanism or what. I just thought, ‘I’m going to have fun.’”
Over the past few years, she has been sporting a more stripped-down beauty look, sometimes looking like she is not wearing makeup. Following the death of her makeup artist, Alexis Vogel, she started taking a new approach. She explained:
“She was the best. And since then, I just felt, without Alexis, it’s just better for me not to wear makeup.”
The star might have turned her back on the signature look, but a new generation of people have rediscovered her Y2K style and #Pamcore trends frequently on TikTok.
The animal lover contends that her beauty update is “freeing, and fun, and a little rebellious too.” When she looks in the mirror, she feels “rooted for.” Pamela Anderson says she is in a good place.
My husband wanted a divorce because I couldn’t give him a son. What happened next changed our lives forever.
Marriage had always been a partnership of love and support, or at least that’s what I believed when Steve and I first tied the knot 16 years ago. Over time, we were blessed with five beautiful daughters, each one a joy and a challenge in her own way. Yet, in Steve’s eyes, our family lacked something crucial: a son.
Steve’s desire for a male heir became an obsession, overshadowing every happy moment we had. His traditional mindset dictated that a man’s legacy could only be carried on by a son, and our daughters, no matter how wonderful, were seen as inadequate. This belief had eaten away at the fabric of our marriage, turning our once joyous union into a battleground of unmet expectations and silent resentment.
Steve’s job kept him away most of the time, leaving me to juggle the responsibilities of raising our daughters, maintaining the household, and managing a part-time online job. His absence wasn’t just physical; it was emotional too. He was a shadow in our home, present yet distant, and his discontent seeped into every corner of our lives.
The Breaking Point
One late night, a seemingly innocent conversation spiraled into a full-blown argument. I had suggested trying one more time for a son, even though I was already forty. Steve’s response was brutal and laced with years of pent-up frustration.
“Shut up already,” he snapped. “We’ve been together for 16 years and you couldn’t bring me a son. What makes you think you will do it this time?”
I tried to reason with him, “But Steve, only God…”
“ONLY GOD DECIDED TO PUNISH ME WITH YOU AND ANOTHER 5 FEMALES,” he yelled, his face contorted with anger. “I wish I could go back in time and change everything.”
The venom in his words was palpable, and it stung more than any physical blow could. Our daughters, our life together, everything we had built was being torn down in this moment of raw emotion. Suddenly, we heard a noise behind the door. When we checked, there was no one there, and we dismissed it as the creaking of an old house. Little did we know, that sound was a harbinger of the events that would soon unfold.
The Missing Child
The next day, our lives took an unexpected turn. It was 6 pm, and Lisa, our 12-year-old, was always home by this time. Panic set in when she didn’t show up. As worry gnawed at us, Sara, our second-born, came running with tears streaming down her face, clutching a letter.
Steve snatched the letter from her hand and began reading. His face went ashen, his eyes widened with fear. He turned to me, his voice trembling, “This is serious.”
The letter was a ransom note. It claimed that Lisa had been kidnapped and demanded an exorbitant amount of money for her safe return. The instructions were clear: no police, no tricks, or we’d never see her again.
The Race Against Time
Our world was shattered. The next hours were a blur of frantic phone calls, desperate plans, and heart-wrenching decisions. Steve, usually stoic and composed, was a mess. His obsession with having a son seemed insignificant now compared to the possibility of losing his daughter.
The experience taught us that the value of family isn’t determined by gender but by the love, respect, and support we give each other. Steve learned to cherish his daughters and our marriage, realizing that true happiness comes from within and is nurtured by the bonds we share.
Our lives were forever changed by that harrowing experience, but it also brought us closer, forging a stronger, more resilient family. The past year had been incredibly tough, but it led to a new beginning, one where we could all be truly happy together.
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