Growing up in Los Angeles as a Black woman, I had never knowingly experienced any racism because my community was such a melting pot.
When I was 23 years old, a friend of mine who was in casting called me about this new show called The Bachelor. As a young actress, I'd already appeared on other dating shows, like Change of Heart, to earn money in between acting gigs. Plus, I had already dated outside of my race a lot, so I didn't have any reservations about dating a white guy. No one really seemed to think there was anything wrong with that here in Los Angeles, so I didn't expect any backlash for dating someone white on a reality TV show.
Soon enough, they cast me on Alex Michel's season of The Bachelor, and I ended up being one of the final eight women.
At 23, I kind of thought I understood life. But once the show happened, I no longer understood anything. I didn't understand myself. I couldn't trust people��and, as someone who always looked outside for validation, that realization hit me hard.
As soon as The Bachelor started to air, I got hit with a big dose of reality.
I was the first woman who kissed Alex on the second episode, and photos of our kiss were highly publicized. Soon enough, I found a picture of us kissing on a white supremacist website with terrible comments written about how disgusting it was to have people of two different races kissing on the show.
I will never forget the feeling of finding my photograph on that website. It was shocking to know that white supremacists even knew who I was—that was really scary. I felt helpless, and I didn’t know what I could do to get that photograph removed from that website.
There were also blogs saying stuff like, "Who does this Black girl think she is dating The Bachelor?"
I was shocked by all the racist backlash online. Looking back, I guess it’s because I was naïve. Being from California, and particularly from Los Angeles, I didn’t know that across the country there was still so much racism.
It also changes you as a person when you realize that there are some people that really hate you—and not for anything that you’ve said or done. They hate you just because of the race you were born with. I didn’t feel anger; I felt sadness.
At the same time, some people in the Black community were unhappy with me dating a white guy on TV, or in general.
All of a sudden, I started getting recognized in public.
Most of my interactions with the public were great. People told me they thought I was beautiful, smart, cool—even though it was a different story online. But still, it can give you a little bit of anxiety, especially if you're not prepared for it, which I wasn’t. At the time, The Bachelor was the first show of its kind; I had no idea the impact it would have. I felt like everyone was talking about me.
I began to have major anxiety, as well as panic attacks.
I was also still dealing with the hurt and rejection that came from feeling more for Alex than he felt for me. I was dealing with so much pain all at once—and so fast. It felt like whiplash. I had fallen for Alex on the show and thought our connection was strong.
I think that's one of the things that people often overlook since it is a TV show: the heartbreak.
After the show premiered, one of The Bachelor producers, Lisa Levenson, told me there was a therapist I could talk to, but I just never took her up on that offer.
The train had basically already left the station at that point—I was just lost.
I ended up going through a depression, and I stepped away from everything.
I started to self-medicate by drinking and taking pills, and I wasn’t eating.
Looking back, I think the racist backlash I experienced was also compounded by the fact that my dad died when I was just 1. I guess I was already sort of a wounded soul in a sense. I always looked outward for acceptance. I didn't really have self-confidence.
I didn't have a lot of the coping skills to help navigate through the pain and the heartbreak.
For a while, my mom blamed herself for my lack of confidence, but she couldn't teach me what she didn't know. Between slavery, Jim Crow laws, and everything else that came from that, my ancestors were just trying to survive. When that's your primary goal, it's very difficult to think about your mental health, too.
Eventually, I ended up in the hospital. That was my lowest point.
I was hospitalized because I had been self-medicating with pills and wasn’t eating at all. The pills made me forget about my pain and sadness... but that was only a temporary fix.
Laying in the hospital, I thought, "You put your trust and your faith into everyone else. And now, look, you're here by yourself—about to die, basically."
My hospital stay lasted about a week—long enough to break me of my cycle of self-medicating. After I was released, I started to see a therapist on a weekly basis. I did this for a few years, eventually moving to monthly sessions, and I slowly started to get my life back under control.
To begin to heal, I also read a ton of books, and two changed my life: The Four Agreements and The Art of Worldly Wisdom. Those books really helped me learn about life and how to cope.
I also did a lot of journaling because I had to build myself up. I had to put my feet on solid ground because if you're on solid ground, you can't be swayed so easily. It took some time, but I found my self-love; I found my self-confidence.
That's a part of life The Bachelor taught me: You can't live your life expecting everyone is going to like you.
I realized that if some people don't like me because I'm Black—or even if someone doesn't like that I wore glitter eyeshadow (which, yes, really happened)—that's not my problem.
You can't try to make everyone happy. Some people won’t like you; some people will, but ultimately, you've got to like yourself.
After my season, I could not watch The Bachelor for a good 10 years because the wound left by so many painful memories was still there.
It helps that, now—after surviving that dark period—I do have coping mechanisms. I journal religiously. If something's bothering me, I listen to it, I feel my feelings, and I write them down. Once I figure out what's bothering me, I try to work through that.
I love running, walking, hiking, and jump roping. I work out for about an hour, five or six days a week, because when I exercise it's my time to reflect. I put my headphones in, listen to my music, and just move my body. Plus, you get those endorphins. I always feel better after exercising.
Hopefully, it's a lot easier for Black women and men to appear on The Bachelor or The Bachelorette now, even if they do experience some racial backlash.
I hope it's not as tough on them as it was on me.
The main difference between who I am now and who I was before I went through the depression is that I'm able to recognize and validate my feelings. After years spent not wanting to step on anybody's toes, I no longer put other people before myself. Now, I speak up if I don’t like what someone's saying or how they treat me.
I’m thankful that our generation of Black people are doing more than surviving. We want to thrive, we want to have a full quality of life, and in order to do that, we have to have certain coping mechanisms and certain wisdoms to guide us through the difficult times. My hope is that, by sharing my experience, it can be that piece of wisdom for someone else.
LaNease Adams is an actress and also developed her own line of organic soaps, Fountain of Youth Bath.
