I thought this day would never arrive, but apparently the internet remembers everything. After more than a few joking denials, I’m finally owning up to it: my name is Sherry $herdog, and when I was 17 I appeared on MTV. Watching that footage now is painfully embarrassing—an edited collection of my most awkward teenage moments.
People who know me know I’m an oversharer, so you might wonder why I tried to hide this. There’s a difference between inviting people into your home and accidentally showing a bra on a bedroom chair, or nervously flailing during an interview, or admitting you sometimes patrol the house covered in dog fur and cream cheese. But it’s another level entirely to present a time capsule of your seventeen-year-old self—surprised while lifeguarding—told you’re about to interview Eminem for a show called FANatic, and then have the whole thing filmed and preserved for posterity. Cue ten minutes of nervous giggling; that’s my default when I’m overwhelmed.
A few behind-the-scenes truths: shows like that are lightly staged. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t a full-on Marshall Mathers obsessive—I absolutely was—but producers steer conversations so you come across as the ideal fan. They encouraged me to say things like “I aspire to be a rapper someday.” To be clear: that was a prompted line. My best friend Mariam and I did once parody Eminem and Dre at a high school talent show—orange puffy vests and belly shirts, because Jersey kids do wild things—but it was meant as a joke, not a genuine career aspiration. I never expected to tour as a famous female rapper.
The production also staged locations. They took us to the old burger joint where Eminem used to work, and as a teenager it was thrilling to see that spot and imagine he’d been flipping burgers there not long before. Fun fact: the people I’m serving in that restaurant scene were actually the limo driver and a production assistant.
Another behind-the-scenes detail: the friend who surprised me at the pool and accompanied me on the trip was hardly someone I knew well. MTV required the accompanying friend to be 18, or else a parent had to join, which would have complicated the shoot. When they asked for a list of potential friends, I gave names of my 17-year-old buddies. They strongly suggested I include someone over 18, so a woman who worked at the Marriott front desk—where I had lifeguarded for years—ended up being the person they picked. It was still incredibly exciting to ride in a limo at 17 and flash the peace sign with my sleeves rolled up.
Now for the truly mortifying parts. At one point during the interview, the word “phat” slipped out of my mouth. I had never used that term before and never have since. I can only blame sheer panic at the prospect of sitting next to a hip-hop star and trying to sound cool. The moment I realized I’d said it on national television I wanted to crawl under a rock. I grinned and laughed like a goofy person for the rest of the interview, which only made it worse in hindsight.
They also asked me to rap—multiple times. It was awful. About my hairstyle: I had wanted a ponytail and planned to wear an armband, but the crew suggested pigtails and no armband. I’m grateful they vetoed the armband, though the pigtails still feel embarrassing now. So, that’s me: nervous, ridiculous, and forever preserved on tape.
How did I even end up on the show? My friends dared me to send a tape because I was such a hardcore fan. I didn’t expect to get chosen, so I did a bunch of silly things I figured would never see the light of day—like sitting in a tub full of M&Ms—fully convinced I’d be rejected. That disbelief made everything I did on camera feel only mildly embarrassing at the time.
MTV’s audition process is a bit cruel: they keep you in contact to collect info—what you’d ask if chosen, who you’d bring—then they tell you you’re a semi-finalist and go silent for weeks. That radio silence makes you swing from hopeful to convinced you weren’t chosen, which heightens the surprise when they actually show up. At 17, the idea that I might be flown to Detroit to meet Eminem felt unreal and amazing.
Despite the cringe, it was an incredible experience. I flew with a camera crew without my parents, stayed in a cool hotel, and met Marshall. He was genuinely kind—oddly, I remember thinking he had the most striking hands—and he even kissed my neck. At the time I absurdly imagined we’d get married and have children named after his alter egos. I even photographed my neck afterward; yes, I was that kind of teenager.
I’m grateful for the opportunity. It was exciting, made our school morning announcements, and remains a wild memory. That said, I never intended for everyone to sit together and rewatch my teenage awkwardness—but the secret is out now. In short: it was amazing, mortifying, and unforgettable. The cat phat is out of the bag.
Your turn: share your most embarrassing secrets so we’re even. Go.