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The LeadJennie Garth, known for her role as Kelly Taylor in 'Beverly Hills, 90210,' opens up about the psychological impact of early fame and how she found new purpose in her 50s. The 54-year-old actress, who felt 'stuck' and unfulfilled as her daughters grew up, has launched a podcast and book titled 'I Choose Me,' sharing her journey of self-discovery and the lessons learned from her decades in Hollywood.Finding Purpose at 50Approaching her 50s, Garth experienced a classic midlife crisis, questioning her path and purpose after noticing potential acting jobs becoming 'few and far between.' The deaths of her 90210 co-stars Luke Perry in 2019 and Shannen Doherty in 2024 intensified her sense of urgency, prompting her to share what she's learned with other women experiencing similar standstills. Her new venture, 'I Choose Me,' named after an iconic line from her character on the show, combines memoir and self-help as Garth reflects on her journey from teenage star to mature woman finding her voice.The Price of Early FameGarth candidly admits that her early fame 'screwed with her mind,' describing how she spent 20 years 'trying to keep her head above water.' Starting on the hit show at just 18, she felt developmentally 'held back from the realities of the world,' watching peers experience normal milestones while she was 'slammed into' fame. The experience left her questioning how her unusual path affected her relationships and personal growth, as she struggled to form normal connections while constantly being judged and typecast in the industry.Hollywood's Changing LandscapeThe actress reflects on the sexism she faced in the 90s, noting how young female actors were 'exposed to far more than they should' in terms of sexualization and discrimination. She recalls unspoken expectations about appearance and the pressure to conform to certain standards, including her own decision to get breast enhancement at 24. Garth also discusses how the industry typecast her and her co-stars, keeping them in a 'sort of Aaron Spelling-nighttime-soapy category' that limited their growth opportunities, despite the quality of their work.A New ChapterNow in her 50s, Garth feels she's finally 'caught up' developmentally and is embracing her age with greater wisdom and resilience. Through therapy and self-help, she's found a new voice and purpose, sharing her experiences to help other women navigate similar challenges. Her journey from teenage star to empowered woman reflects both the lasting impact of early fame and the potential for reinvention later in life, as she continues to work while also focusing on personal growth and helping others find their own path to self-acceptance.

The Manosphere's Influence on Sports CultureIn Louis Theroux's Netflix documentary "Inside the Manosphere," he interviews podcasters, streamers and influencers from across the Red Pill ecosystem. But the most profound moments are when he speaks with their followers. Regular, everyday American men who struggle to make a living, find love, get laid and start a family.One of them is a Latino man in his 20s living in Miami. He explains that Andrew Tate's message helped pull him out of homelessness. What stuck with him wasn't Tate's aggressive bravado or rampant misogyny, but a simple idea: as a man, you start with no inherent value – you have to build it. On its face, it sounds like basic self-help. Beneath it is something harsher: a belief among those in the manosphere that worth is conditional, something that must be earned through performance, discipline and visible results. Under their logic, a "successful" man has a harem of women, luxury cars and a body bulging with muscles.The Physical Scrutiny of Modern AthletesThat message doesn't just live online. You can see it in sports, especially in how we talk about athletes' bodies. This kind of scrutiny isn't new in sports. For decades, female athletes have lived under a similar microscope. Evaluated not just for what they do, but how they look while doing it. Now, men are being pulled into the same dynamic. The standards aren't identical, but the mechanism is.Luka Dončić has become one of the clearest subjects of the scrutiny. Ever since he entered the NBA in 2018, it's been clear that the Slovenian is a Hall of Fame talent. But for all his ability, conversation around him has drifted away from what he does on the court and toward what his body – Dončić has never had the ripped physique of the stereotypical athlete – supposedly says about him.The Performance Standards in Professional BasketballIn Dallas, he led – some would say carried – the Mavericks to the 2024 NBA finals. But long before then, the whispers had started about his "conditioning" and "durability". It began with chatter about his love of hookah and fluctuating weight while in Dallas, before being used as the raison d'être for the since-fired Mavericks general manager, Nico Harrison, trading him to the Los Angeles Lakers.Dončić is far from a perfect player. He argues with refs, confronts opponents, is suspect on defense and has a propensity for hero-ball and, yes, is prone to niggling injuries. But the extra weight he carried – for an athlete mind you, not for a guy off the street – was seen as a symbol of his flaws. Just like the manosphere influencers, the basketball world portrays his supposed physical imperfections as proof of some internal failing.The Media Narrative and Public PerceptionBut the Red Pill race is unwinnable: there's always one more bodybuilding supplement to buy, one more luxury car to show you've made it to the top of the pyramid. And this twisted logic is played out more widely in how Dončić is viewed. At the start of this season, there was a frenzy after he appeared on the cover of Men's Health displaying the kind of body we were told he should have had all along. He went on to play like a demon, leading the NBA in points per game.But even then, Dončić could not win. In February, on The Hoop Collective podcast, Tim MacMahon discussed the Lakers' problems this season, saying: "If there's a 'blame pie', [Dončić] can have a slice of it, but there's plenty to go around." His co-host, Brian Windhorst, joked: "Luka likes pie." There was still gossip about a custody battle with his former partner over their children. Then, when Dončić strained his hamstring as the playoffs approached, and reportedly scoured Europe for a cure, the narrative flipped from "he's lazy" to "he's too driven". The injury brings the vultures back to the carcass. If he rushes back and fails, they will blame his "conditioning". If he stays out to protect his future, they will blame his "heart".The Future of Athlete Evaluation and Cultural ShiftsWhich brings us back to the man in Miami. He is attracted to figures like Tate because he wants to be seen. He is told he can gain worth and value if he just works hard, gets ripped and keeps grinding. But even a millionaire athlete can't win that war in the modern landscape. In sports, out of sports, people are drifting apart. To make it worse, we don't even have a common language to talk about any more. Everything has become a political statement. Look at Dončić. He can weave through double teams and control the entire court, yet we get stuck arguing about his body fat. Yapping about his relationship troubles.In that sense, the manosphere and the sports mainstream are not so far apart. In both, value is something that must be constantly demonstrated – and is just as easily called into question.