A Little Thing Called Life-By: Linda Thompson

Introduction

I originally began writing this book over ten years ago, but after completing four chapters, I realized I couldn't reveal my whole truth without compromising or infringing on another's. So I put my book on the shelf until Caitlyn Jenner emerged, freeing me to share my journey.
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I can't say it hasn't been easy to dig down deep to excavate old, emotion-eliciting memories that I had long ago dealt with and compartmentalized. It has been furthermore challenging to relive the moments, feel the emotions again, and articulate them sensitively and effectively. But in navigating those personal, internal, meandering rivers of thought, I hold firm to the belief our experiences in life are meant to be shared with one another.
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In many ways, the origins of this book go back even further than ten years. I was first approached to tell my story in a book almost forty years ago when Elvis died. I didn't accept because I never wanted to be thought of as someone who exploited my relationship with Elvis. There was already an abundance of those opportunistic individuals. I wanted to stand apart as someone who had been there for the right reason. It has always meant more to me than riches to know that as he lay dying, the last thought Elvis would have had of me was the certainty that he had been loved purely by me. That knowledge offers a soul satisfaction that money cannot buy. I simply loved him and I felt an obligation to protect the memory of the time I'd shared with him.
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I knew, eventually, it would be important to discuss my time with him, to detail the man I knew for fans and cultural historians alike. I knew that by waiting until I had carved out my own way in the world and lived my life more fully, my inclusion of the Elvis years would carry more dignity and credibility. There was a sense of responsibility to Elvis' memory  and his legions of fans I felt then, and still feel to this day, to portray him as I knew him. As the adage goes, "You don't really know someone unless you live with them." Only two women ever actually lived with Elvis. I was one of the two.
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Trust is a very critical component in a relationship. Elvis trusted me so completely he allowed me to see him at his most vulnerable. He shared his deepest fears, sorrows, joys, memories, and aspirations with me. Elvis was a beautifully complex figure. All the passing years have allowed for many books and accounts of his life, his loves, his demise, and his subsequent purported sightings. So many of these have struggled to capture the paradoxical nature of the man I knew, and it was with no small since of obligation that I knew my job was to do justice to the divergent sides of his personality-the good and the bad, the laughter and the rage, the levity and the depth.
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His paradoxical nature was demonstrated in every facet of his life. There is no question that Elvis had his dark side. And that dark side, like everything about Elvis, was larger than life. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that Elvis was not a perfect man. After all is said and done, he was, and we should always allow him to be, remarkably human. It would be a disservice to his memory and disingenuous on my part to portray Elvis as anything but that. My honesty takes nothing away from his absolute greatness. Undoubtedly, Elvis Presley changed my life forever, and after nearly forty years of harboring his special words and deeds to myself, I now feel compelled to share Elvis with those who love him still.
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And yet, I've always known that there would be more that I had to share. My poetry writing, which began when I was only nine years old, transformed into a career as a song lyricist not long after Elvis' death. Of course, Elvis was an extremely influential and important part of my history, but the hopeful thing about life was that it kept going even after Elvis "left the building." Never was that more true in my case.
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In the years since my time with Elvis, the story of my life has become a richer, more complicated version than I ever could've imagined. After Elvis' death, I met a man who would be my next great love, a man I was convinced would be with me the rest of my life-Bruce Jenner, the father of my two sons, Brandon and Brody.
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Bruce and I were together six amazing years, building a perfect family and living a life as close to idyllic as I could have imagined. But, in the same vein of sharing the truth and trying to live a life of integrity, I would not have been able to write an honest portrayal of my marriage to Bruce Jenner and the real reason we divorced, until now. Bruce confessed to me more than thirty years ago that he had gender dysphoria, and I kept his secret for all that time, not even telling our sons until three years ago. I would never have been the one to "out Bruce." I have respectfully kept these secrets private and would have taken these confidences to my grave had Bruce not announced her transition to Caitlyn. It has always remained of crucial importance to me that Bruce be allowed to reveal his own truth on HER own terms. As Caitlyn, she is doing that. (Forgive the mixed use of pronouns when referring to Bruce, now Caitlyn. I will refer to Bruce as him before the transition because that's who I knew and fell in love with. No disrespect intended toward her, Caitlyn-I hope you will understand the complexity of my position.)
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Caitlyn's story, and her struggle, is uniquely hers, my experiences with Bruce from almost three decades ago are, commensurately, uniquely my own. I was deviated when Bruce confided to me his gender dysphoria and his plans to transition. My fairy tale unraveled concurrently with my confidence in my own judgment, sexuality, femininity, the future of my two baby sons, and everything I thought of which was certain. As destabilizing as my new truth was, and as broken hearted as I was, my very spirit ached for the pain and disassociation that Bruce had felt for all of his life. As much as this is about Bruce and Caitlyn, it's not all about her. Every perspective has at least two sides, and this is the story of what I went through as a wife and a mother during the time when the cultural understanding of transgender was far less progressive than it is today.
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If Bruce had told me earlier of his gender issues, I would not have married him. I am so thankful to him, the universe, God, and any powers that be that he didn't confide that truth because as difficult a time that was, my marriage to Bruce gave me the two greatest joys of my life, my sons Brandon and Brody. They are the most important facets of my very existence. No matter what I may have done or accomplished, no matter how many titles or awards I have received, no matter who I have loved-they will always be that part of my life of which I am most proud, and who I most love. They have inspired so many song lyrics that I have written, and I wish to share some of that inspiration with you. I have included some of those song lyrics here between each chapter of my life.
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I have been fortunate to enjoy a very successful career as a lyricist that includes an Academy Award nomination for best song in a motion picture for "I Have Nothing" by Whitney Houston from The Bodyguard. There have been Grammy nominations, songs written for various philanthropic purposes, and an Emmy win.
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And it was through my second marriage to mad musical genius David Foster that my songwriting career blossomed like never before, amid the backdrop of our sometimes difficult marriage. We were together for nineteen years, and shared a deep love for each other, for the art of making music, attempts at responsible parenting, and so much more. I will always be grateful for our time together, and I appreciate all that David has meant through the years to me and to my sons.
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Life is nothing if not unpredictably strange. And yet, every breath we inhale and exhale is a gift not to be taken for granted. Despite the unpredictable ride that I've been on, I continue to practice the art of forgiveness. Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves. We can only keep our side of the street clean. What our neighbor does or doesn't do is up to them. We cannot control other people. Time tempers all judgment, reveals all truth, and carves a deeper understand of life and the human condition into our beings. I won't allow the impulse  to have a "knee jerk response" to circumstances in the story of my life dictate that I write my memoir before it's time had come. Now I feel the time is right.
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All of the events and experiences I share herein have been faithfully rendered as I recall them to the very best of my ability. In some cases, names have been changed to respect the privacy of those individuals. Though conversations stem from my keen recollection of them, and in some cases notes taken through the years, they are not meant to represent word for word documentation in every instance. I have painstakingly retold them in a manner that evokes the true meaning and feeling of what was said.
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I have often declared that the girlfriend, wife, or ex of a celebrated person must be twice as good to be taken half seriously at anything. I truly feel that I've been blessed with a life filled with its own set of successes, failures, heartaches, joys, and emotional explorations. In sharing it, my hope is that it may provide inspiration, comfort, humor, understanding, enlightenment, entertainment, and even a sense of belonging to another soul in search. Although I feel  that everyone has a story worth telling, and that every life holds the same worth, let's be honest, some individual existences become "literary lives," simply in the process of living them fully as time presents them. Some of us have found ourselves woven  into extraordinary tapestries, pages, and chapters of life that become natural fodder for a memoir. Such is the life I have lived thus far.
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The whole purpose of my career, and of my very existence, has been to connect with others on an emotional level. After all, the more we endeavor to understand and empathize with another human being's life, the more we unravel the mystery of our own, this extraordinary gift we've been given, A LITTLE THING CALLED LIFE.