To see my name on the big screen. To be famous and make a ton of money. To step on stage at the Academy Awards….
These are the types of aspirations and dreams that drive a young film artist. Some admit it and others tell themselves their ambitions are loftier like “to change the lives of others for the better through my art” but really when you strip it all back there is an ego inside that wants to be recognized by others for their genius.
I was surrounded by twenty-somethings during my time in New York City in the 90s and early 2000s who had made these objectives their lives focus. I was one of them myself and so was my first husband, Morgan Spurlock.
I met Morgan when I was 21 years old. I was a full-time model and he was a recent graduate of NYU film school. I was extremely exhausted and tormented from what already seemed like an eternity of adulting. I had been traveling and living all over the world since the age of 17 and since being a model was synonymous with being extremely thin, there was mostly one storyline that revolved in my head. It was variations on the theme: “I’m fat” and the anti-theme “I want to eat that”. I had a sizable career as a model, but keeping my weight and measurements at the minuscule, bones-protruding level that was necessary to fit in runway haute couture was just not sustainable for me. It didn’t matter that I had plenty of tear sheets and covers of magazines. Because my weight was out of control, at the core, I felt like a failure and I desperately wanted to be regarded as more than skin and bones and a pretty face.
Morgan was very excited to get cracking at his chosen career as a director. We were both from middle America, I grew up in Ohio and he was from West Virginia, so we shared that common familiarity. Spending time with Morgan was a welcome relief for me as I was coming off years based in Europe and Asia surrounded by foreigners who, besides the other models I would befriend for a day on a shoot, were always much older than me. Finally, I was hanging out with someone my age, who spoke English and knew what sausage biscuits with gravy were!
Morgan and I clung to each other. Instead of pretending I was a worldly grown-up, I was finally able to enjoy some of the things I knew were appropriate for an American kid my age…. like beer pong at the frat house! Having left high school early as an academic and sports minded young girl raised by a Baptist preacher father and a conservative mother with a career in education, I had stayed away from drugs and alcohol during my travels abroad. But that all changed when I met Morgan. We happily dove into and explored all kinds of activities I’d been brought up to believe were against God’s will. I was introduced to late nights of humorous camaraderie that turned into bleary-eyed early mornings and a whole new environment of juvenile activity that felt condoned because everybody was doing it.
But underneath it all, Morgan and I were both like scared little bunnies wondering which way to hop to safety. What the hell are you supposed to do to make all that money and get all that fame as a film maker? I ended up “quitting” modeling at the age of 23. I’d had a clear-minded epiphany one day where I thought it wasn’t right that at my young age I should feel fat and old and want to kill myself all the time. So, I packed up my Paris apartment and declared my new mission to my modeling agents, “I’m done! I’m leaving for New York to become an actress!” As if that career was a surefire paycheck and a better solution for agism and the sexualization of women! Anyhow, I was convinced I could show the world that I was more than a model. I was a true talent! Somehow, I believed that acting was my highest calling and I had a chip on my shoulder about proving it. But truth be told, I needed to purge myself of my modeling career in order to build back my shattered body image and I never could have made such a bold declaration with out the support of Morgan.
We were married by my father in Columbus, OH when I was 23 and he was 25. This was the right thing to do as my parents were married by this age themselves and there was no way I could live in “sin” and move in with Morgan without being married. Morgan also demanded we get married or split up so, matrimony it was for us and a forward march to our first apartment together in New York City. I began acting school in tandem with my real underlying journey; ridding myself of the grips of an eating disorder.
Morgan very valiantly stepped up to be the “provider” between the two of us since I was not working at the time. He took a job for Sony who was sponsoring a team in a professional four man beach volleyball tour. When I wasn’t in school, Morgan and I would travel all over the country together in a Ford F150 that was on site every game to show off the Sony sound system in America’s favorite truck. And when I was in school, Morgan would travel by himself and meet all kinds of people… and, by his own admission, sleep with lots of them.
The cheating and the late nights without me by his side continued as he transitioned from his career as a beach volleyball court-side announcer to starting his on production company back home in New York. It was a tumultuous time for us both as we were face to face with the reality that becoming a superstar in movies is virtually impossible. There’s a reason for the common term “starving artist” it’s just fools like Morgan and I that didn’t think that applied to us.
Eventually after about five years of living with Morgan, I decided I wanted out. It was demoralizing for me, coming out of an abusive relationship with my own body, to then be disregarded by my husband while he was off pursuing whatever indulgences suited him. Both Morgan and I were very energetic and competitive in those days and unfortunately that spirit was misguided too often and we both tried to one up each other regularly with destructive behavior. I weathered a lot of unsavory acts by Morgan but I was no faultless angel myself. While being submerged in acting school, one learns to “get in touch with their feelings” and “use their voice”. Well, poor Morgan was my main target as I rebelled against the severely dogmatic Baptist upbringing of my childhood and a lethal voice erupted out of my tormented soul. Through it all though, somehow Morgan and I held on to a common thread of respect and deep love. The magic in that childish exploration being that we both saw all of each other and even gave each other a safe space to explore any and all urges that presented themselves. It was not a relationship of shadows, I saw Morgan at his worst; depressed, broke, down on himself, ashamed, jealous, lost and angry and he gave me the space to be pitiful and anguished myself. It was a constant struggle to find ourselves, filled with youthful stokes of joy, creativity, ingenuity and hilarity, but eventually the damage was too much to repair.
We stayed married but legally separated for a couple years. Because Morgan had supported me during acting school and the start of my career, it was important to me to continue to support him whatever way I could. From my work on SAG commercials, I had made enough money to qualify for Screen Actor’s Guild health insurance which is like striking gold for an artist living on the edge of complete instability at all times. Since we were officially married, that meant Morgan was covered too. Morgan had some successes with his production company but still struggled financially. I had some opportunities that lead me to Australia and by this time with all the marital expectations and hurt out of the way, Morgan and I were back to being great friends. I remember he called me once and said, “I’m shooting a movie.” I encouraged him and asked how he got the funding and he admitted that he was still in a financially tough position. But he said, “I’m in all this debt, I got evicted, but I thought, ‘Morgan what do you have? And I thought, I have health insurance. I can make a movie all about me going to the doctor!’” Pretty soon my mailbox started filling up each day with medical statements and the movie Super Size Me was nominated for an Oscar.
Watching Morgan go through that experience impacted my life for the positive and his words even became a mantra for me. When I’ve been down emotionally or financially, I think to myself, “Priscilla, what do you have?” Focus on being a ‘have” not a ‘have not’. That’s the spirit that carried Morgan to fulfilling his film making dreams.
Yes, Morgan introduced me to some bad habits, but he also introduced me to some unconventional good ones. He introduced me to not giving a fuck what people think. A classic line I’d hear from Morgan when he’d done something someone didn’t like was, “So I guess I’m the asshole!” Then he’d shrug his shoulders, shake it off and keep going. I was aghast at first from that type reaction… all I’d known was that when someone accused you of wrong doing you were meant to emotionally flog yourself and sit in terror then decide if you should beg forgiveness or come up with a whole bunch of proof in your defense that justified your behavior and worth. With Morgan, I learned there was another way. He was fine with being the asshole in someone’s eyes. Not every accusation holds merit or deserves an apology. And not every wrong doing is reason to right off a person, something I think our cancel culture would be wise to remember.
I knew all of Morgan good, bad and otherwise, yet when I think of him, I think he was a champion. It’s precisely because Morgan faced a lot of criticism and closed doors but persevered anyway, that made him a champion. And he wasn’t just a champion for himself, he was all our champion. He was a champion to his friends who he supported and encouraged through personal challenges. He was a champion to artists who struggled to find anyone to believe in them and encourage their vision. He was a champion to his fraternity brothers, always quick with the witty comments that made everyone feel united in brotherhood. He was a champion to his nieces and nephews and extended family, he was always there to pick up the phone and do or say whatever he could to help encourage and forge a path for their aspirations and artistic endeavors. He was there for me any time I asked and he was even there for my husband whom I’ve now been married to for nearly 20 years. I can only imagine what a champion he would have been for his own two sons… For all of us, if there was a request or a creative idea you wanted to run past Morgan, he was your champion. His classic response being, “that’s genius!” He laughed at all your jokes and sincerely considered all your ideas and he filled you with that shot of confidence you needed to keep going. Whether you were a good friend or a complete stranger, when Morgan shown his light on you, you were lifted and you believed in your own abilities. Morgan believed he could do it and Morgan believed we all could do it, whatever “it” was.
When a relationship goes bad enough to break it up, one can ask themselves, “do I actually love this person? Did I ever really love this person?” You think, “Maybe there is someone better out there for me? Maybe I still haven’t found my true love.” With all the bad feelings wrapped up together with good feelings…. what do you call it? When you admire someone and also sometimes feel like murdering them in their sleep? When you enjoy someone’s company and at the same time despise their habits? When you want to care for someone but also want to rid yourself of them?
After my divorce I had in mind that it was not likely true love between Morgan and I and that somewhere out there, there was someone else I needed to find that would tick the true love box and ring in the perfect romance of my life. But since the instant I found out about Morgan’s illness, through his death and while ruminating over every picture from our time together that I unearthed from a cobwebby cardboard box, I know with certainty that I loved him completely. For me, Morgan was the type of friend that you could be your absolute truest self with and bare all and what remained was love. If that’s not true love, I don’t have any better example of what is.
Besides the feeling of devastating grief I’m overwhelmed with from Morgan’s passing, I’m left with the unresolved hope that Morgan truly understood how much he was loved.
Rest in peace, Morgan Valentine Spurlock. Thank you for showing me all of who you were and for loving me back the same way. Your time on Earth touched so many people and you were deeply and truly seen and loved.
