Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

myself. I had tried to rationalize my choices by convincing myself that I had fallen in love with Hef
and just wanted to settle down and have a family.
I know how absolutely insane it sounds to want to have kids with someone in their 70s. You are
basically robbing a child of his or her father before it is even born. Now that I am a mom myself, the
idea seems even more unpalatable. But I suppose I thought of it as a ticket out—in more ways than
one. The last time the mansion had been multiple-girlfriend free was when Hef was married and had
two children, so (considering the mind-set I was in) that seemed like an ideal scenario for me. I had
convinced myself that the multiple girlfriends were the problem, because I just couldn’t admit to
myself that I had made a terrible choice moving into the mansion in the first place. It was cognitive
dissonance at its finest.
There was also the part of me that was grateful for the things Hef had afforded me: food and
shelter when I needed it, the allowance put towards paying off the debts I had from college, and the
opportunities to be on a television show. Though there was plenty to complain about in the way I was
treated, I was grateful for the good things and couldn’t stand to be just like so many of the girls who
had come before me, taking and running with no shame. Attempting the marriage and kids game,
knowing deep down that it was a dead end, was perhaps my subconscious attempt to end the
relationship in the “nicest” way I could think of.
I then confessed something to Bridget that had up to that point been top-secret, known only to me,
Hef, Mary, and a few doctors. A step towards settling down had been made.
Hef had submitted semen samples to a fertility doctor only to find what the doctor had predicted
all along—that nothing from this 70-something-year-old man was viable. I’m sure Hef knew this, too,
and that was the only reason he decided to humor me and submit anything. I had made it clear to him
several times that I wasn’t going to be happy settling down at the mansion without a family and this
was his way of trying to “save the relationship,” though I’m sure he was quite relieved to dodge
having another child. This was concrete proof slapping me in the face that there was no future for me
at the mansion and it was either sit there and rot or take the plunge and face the world. I couldn’t even
admit wanting to leave to Bridget—I just told her how heartbroken I was over the outcome of the tests
and that I didn’t know what to do with my life.
Bridget was a little surprised but not as shocked to hear the secret scoop as one might think. She
knew I was miserable and that I had been for a while. She knew I wanted a family in my life someday
and that that wasn’t compatible with life at the mansion. She also knew of my other fear: after being
one of Hef’s seven concubines, would anyone even want me now? Had I ruined myself forever by
making this choice?
She was a consoling friend and a great listener, but she didn’t really know what to say. She had
her own set of frustrations with mansion life and didn’t have the answers.
There was something else happening that was distancing me from Hef, and maybe he felt it—I
was starting to realize that perhaps spending the rest of my (or, perhaps more accurately, the rest of
Hef’s) life at the mansion was not what I truly desired. It had been years since Hef had chased after
any other girls. It was becoming increasingly clear that Bridget and Kendra were restless and thinking
about leaving and that Hef was fine with that, too. When I wasn’t burying my head in my work, I was