Thoroughly enjoyed Lisa Robinson’s piece on Lady Gaga in the January Vanity Fair, not to mention, of course, the photos by Annie Leibovitz. This section captivated me so:
” … with men, I tend to let them in so far in my heart and my soul because I’m emotionally available. The difference between being with your fans and being with a lover is that with my fans I know what I mean to them, and I will die protecting what we have. I only know the happiness of putting a smile on someone’s face from the stage. But I have never felt truly cherished by a lover. I have an inability to know what happiness feels like with a man. I have this effect on people where it starts out good. Then, when I’m in these relationships with people who are also creative, or creative in their own way, what happens is the attraction is initially there and it’s all unicorns and rainbows. And then they hate me.
“Perhaps it’s a whose-dick-is-bigger contest. If I go to the piano and write a quick song and play it back, they are angry with how fast and effortless it is. That’s who I am, and I don’t apologize for it. But it’s a hideous place to be in when someone that you love has convinced you that you will never be good enough for anyone. I had a man say to me, ‘You will die alone in a house bigger than you know, with all your money and hit records, and you will die alone.'” I suggest that perhaps she’s picked the wrong men. “That’s what my mother says,” she admits. “And even though I know it sounds a bit Hallmark, whenever I [was] in that kind of stressful, worthless moment, I would think, I’ll show you. But it’s more than just saying, ‘Oh, they can’t handle a strong woman.’ ‘Oh, I’m intimidating.’ ‘Oh, it’s the money.’ I think what it really is, is that I date creative people. and I think that what intimidates them is not my purse; it’s my mind.” I suggest that she’s just going to have to find somebody more talented than she is. “Yes, please,” she says.
Then she laughs and says the weird thing is, after she’s left a few people, they’ve asked her to marry them. “How fuckin’ romantic, you asshole. Sure, pop a ring on my finger and make it all better. I can buy myself a fuckin’ ring.” … And I have always picked the music first. If anything gets in music’s way, they’re gone. My work has always been primary. It’s not money and it’s not record sales and it’s not photographs. It’s this invisible thing … I imagine all the artists I ever loved could smell that energy.”