Last we left Tiki Barber, the still-married former NFL player and his mistress Traci Johnson were attempting to explain themselves on Entertainment Tonight. (”Attempting” being the operative word.)
Johnson has since had the bright idea to take to an established, credible gossip website to defend herself after her still-married ‘boyfriend’ left his current wife of 11 years for her. (Ginny Barber was eight months pregnant with twins at the time.)
As a public service, I’ve snipped some of the jaw-dropping narcissism from her “memoir” post on the site so you don’t have to subject yourself to Johnson’s stupefying lack of self-awareness.
When I began dating my current boyfriend in the beginning of January 2010 I was optimistic, yet cautious. He was recently separated from his wife, resetting his love life, and unsure of what the future would hold for him.
All qualities that produced an array of warning signals in my mind. However, the romantic optimist in me prevailed through the doubt and I thought about the possibilities that could lead to the potential of this situation actually working out to my benefit.
He was one of my dearest friends for the past three years and has been the one to pick me up off my face when I fumbled my way through one bad relationship to another. In my opinion those were two fantastic reasons for beginning a new dating adventure with someone, and if those two weren’t enough to convince me to date this man, then the simple fact that I was just freshly wounded by a relationship with what I would like to consider a nutcase (and wasn’t quite yet ready for another serious, long-term commitment with someone) closed the deal for me.
In case you’re wondering, Johnson is, somehow, talking about her relationship with Barber.
Three months later all the bright red caution lights that were flashing in my mind when I first began dating Tiki had disappeared and I was, for the first time in my life, completely comfortable in my relationship. I was able to throw on a pair of sweatpants and not worry about putting make-up on when he came over, our hands seemed to fit together perfectly while walking down the street, conversation over dinner at our favorite French restaurant, La Ripaille, flowed naturally – all in all, life appeared seemingly perfect.
Then within 24 hours, that seemingly perfect world that I had quickly grown accustomed too, vanished. My face was suddenly on the front page of one of the most read newspapers in the nation, I was trending on Google, my family was being harassed by reporters, my sister called to tell me that she saw Tiki and me on television, and I was forced to leave my cozy two-bedroom apartment, with my eight-month old puppy in tow, to spend the next two weeks in seclusion from the world.
I never thought it possible to paint the NEW YORK POST in such a favorable light, but Johnson has done the impossible.
While I can’t speak for Tiki, at first I found the story about his and my relationship to be humorous.
The scandalous headlines, such as “Sneaky Tiki” and factually incorrect details – like Tiki leaving his wife while she was eight months pregnant with twins – that graced the cover of “reputable” newspapers amused me.
Plain and simple, the truth was and still is that Tiki and I never crossed the line of being inappropriate while he was married and nor was our relationship inappropriate now that he wasn’t.
Johnson’s exactly correct when citing the truth. Except for one tiny detail: Barber was still married when they allegedly started dating. And is to this day.
Besides that, she’s right on the money.
I remember one day, crying to Tiki, probably after reading a blog about us (which I promised Tiki I wouldn’t do), begging him to call the papers, to scream it from the top of 30 Rock, to simply tell the world the truth because I thought it was destroying me, him, and the potential future for our relationship together.
Upon my request to vindicate not only myself, but him as well, Tiki, sat me down, placed his arm around me, and said, “Nothing that I can say will change their perception. Only time will. Now, please, stop talking and get back to the nude vacuuming.”
Okay, I made that last part up.
On an average night we find ourselves watching whatever we have rented from Netflix or enjoying an episode of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (yes, with or without Tiki’s permission, I will admit that we own the entire collection). Instead of loud and pretentious clubs, you can find us at a cozy wine bar with friends or playing in a co-ed softball league.
If any restaurant requires a three-course meal or more we refuse to go and end up eating at a local pub right around the corner from our apartment.
I can name that paragraph in one word: Hide.
We simply just take solace and great joy in knowing that the people who know the true “Tiki and Traci” have loved and supported us every step of the way and we take even greater joy in making new friends who have learned to love the “real us.”
I hereby volunteer this website as a venue for all those “people who know the true ‘Tiki and Traci’ (and) have loved and supported us every step of the way” to acknowledge their identities and reaffirm supporting you and Tiki “every step of the way.”
I’m sure, like you, all those “people” are dying to trumpet to their family, friends (and the New York Post) the truth about their boundless love and support for you and Tiki in your time of need.
In fact, I’d imagine they all can’t wait to “scream it from the top of 30 Rock” - as you like to put it.
Looking forward to hearing from you and all those “people” soon.