Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1963)

Continued from page 66 into my first ‘Hawaiian Eye' role with a dedication I had never known before. 1 studied and I worked. Believe me. it showed. That episode was the best I have ever done.” Connie smiled self-consciously as she said. “You know. I started to say before that I had been a fraud, but that’s not true. Not true at all. Trying to be objective, I realize that no one is ever the same person from one year to the next. We all change. We grow. I think that’s what’s happened to me. I’ve grown up. 1 want different things now. different goals. “The change that has taken place in me touches many different aspects of my life. 1 even feel differently about men. A short while ago I wanted nothing more than someone to love. Now I know that is not enough. I know myself better and I know what I need. I must have a man who is as successful as I. who is equal to me in courage, intelligence, glamour and spunk.” She paused, then declared strongly. “No. that’s wrong. He can’t be merely my equal. He must be more. I have to know that the man I love will be just a tiny bit superior to me in every way. I must feel that he will literally be — and deserve to be — the head of our house. “I no longer believe that a person knows only one true love in a lifetime. I did before, but now I realize that a first love may be a wrong love. The old Connie Stevens wouldn't have minded if the man she cared for was a streetcleaner. The new Connie Stevens must have a man who is a success, not for the money his success will bring but because of the qualities a person must possess in order to achieve success — strength, wisdom, intelligence.” A giggle escaped Connie and shattered her serious mood. With the air of a small child uttering forbidden, shocking words she declared. “All this surprises you. doesn’t it? I don’t sound like the old me. do I? Well, you see. I'm not. “I've even changed my friends. I’ve disassociated myself from many of the people who were constantly around me. I had gathered a group of hangers-on and I must shamefully admit that I had learned to accept them as part of my life. “The realization hit me one day with a terrible shock that these people were encouraging me to become the type of person I had always despised. 1 knew I must cut myself free of them. I knew I just had to. The entourage “I was out shopping that day. 1 wasn't alone, of course. I never wanted to be alone. I was accompanied by my entourage. I had a large list of errands to do and as we drove up in front of the first store two of the people with me jumped out of the car and said. ‘Sit where you are, Connie. We ll shop for you.’ “It was that way all day. Anticipating my every move, they ran ahead of me to get a clerk’s attention, to pick up packages. to save me a few steps whenever they could. Obligingly, they went wherever I wanted to go, constantly flattering me. “In short, it was a day that was fairly common for the Connie Stevens of old. but suddenly I saw it all with a terrible, blinding clarity. I saw for the first time what I had actually become. I was accepting these people around me because I needed them to make me feel important! I wasn't the only Hollywood performer to be so surrounded, but I couldn’t tolerate it any longer. These weren’t normal friendships I had developed. These people acted as my servants and I accepted it as my due. "I stopped it. As abruptly as that. I couldn’t hurt them by completely severing our relationships, but I began to make myself less available to them until they were forced to make lives of their own. “Now I’ve found new friends, real friends who are equal to me and to whom I am an equal. No longer do I want people around merely to cater to me. I want friends who are independent and strong.” Connie’s face was solemn, her words uttered with an intensity that seemed a part of this fascinating new personality. She leaned forward and said, “So that you’ll understand exactly how I feel, I’m going to tell you about this boy. I’m sorry I can’t mention his name. He is one of the most talented young men in Hollywood, but — though I didn't realize it at the time — very lazy. As our closeness grew he leaned on me more and more until I became his strength and his drive. I would urge him on. encourage him to try. I became his Mother Confessor. Finally I knew that the end had to come. I realized that if I really cared for him I would cut him adrift and force him to make his own way. “Do you know what has happened since we parted? He has become more successful than he ever was. He had always been terribly shy, but now that he does not have me he has been forced to come out of his shell and meet people. He no longer has my strength to use and has had to develop a strength of his own. Our parting was the best thing for us both.” “I want so much . . Unexpectedly Connie’s mood changed and she laughed lightheartedly as she veered to yet another facet of her new personality. “You have no idea how different I’ve become,” she declared. “Why. do you know that I'm even planning on renting my own apartment? I really am. I’ve decided the time has come when I should live alone. I needed people around me before, but I don't any longer. For the first time in my life I feel I can find the things I want more easily if I am by myself. “What do I want? Many things. I want to become a dedicated actress and a deeper person. I want friends, but only those who are independent. Eventually, I want marriage to a man I can respect and adore.” She flung her arms apart in a gesture that encompassed the whole world and cried, “Oh, I want so very much!” Abruptly she jumped up, as lightly as a kitten bouncing to its feet. “Oh, I just remembered,” she exclaimed. “I haven't shown you my latest love.” She ran from the room and returned a moment later with a large leather pouch which she placed tenderly upon the table. “Look.” she whispered reverently as she Vote Today— A Gift Is Waiting For You! We ll put your name on one of 400 prizes — and all you have to do is fill out and mail this ballot. This month, the prize — for the first 400 ballots we receive is “Letters from Camp,” by Bill Adler, with illustrations by Syd HofT. The art is hilarious, and the letters kids actually write home are even lumber. Be sure to mail in your ballot to win this book. Caste this ballot on a postcard and send it to Reader's Poll, Box 1374, Grand Central Station, New York 17, New York. MY FAVORITES ARE: MALE STAR: 1. 2. 3. FEMALE STAR: 1. 2. 3. FAVORITE STORY IN THIS ISSUE: 1. 2. 3. THE NEWCOMER I’D LIKE MOST TO READ ABOUT: THE FAMOUS PERSON, NOT IN SHOW BUSINESS, I’D LIKE TO READ ABOUT: Name Age Address 7-43 92