Photo: Maya Dehlin Spach/Getty Images
Photo: Maya Dehlin Spach/Getty Images
To reality TV fans, Parvati Shallow is more than a Survivor winner. She’s a legend, schemer extraordinaire, and (on The Traitors, at least) wearer of iconic sparkly headbands. Known for her skillful maneuvering and take-no-prisoners approach to gameplay, Shallow has been called everything in the book — Black Widow, Mistress of Murder — and in her new memoir, Nice Girls Don’t Win: How I Burned It All Down to Claim My Power, out today, she looks back on it all and then some.
The book begins by exploring Shallow’s turbulent upbringing in the Kashi Ashram, a Florida commune built around the controversial spiritual leader Ma Jaya Bhagavati, and how it shaped the way she navigates the world, both onscreen and off. According to Shallow, Ma presented herself as a direct link to God, with teachings that induced altered states of consciousness. Shallow describes all-night meditations in which Ma kicked or slapped anyone who fell asleep; a period of time called “the Rampage” when Ma became more “abusive, and a lot more violent”; and the “elaborate schemes” Ma used to adopt followers’ newborns, who were allegedly called “Ma’s kids” and raised in communal rooms by a rotating cast of adults. Shallow’s own name, Parvati, was chosen by Ma herself. Shallow looks back on how her parents met in the commune; how a community that first felt supportive turned coercive; and how her family eventually escaped to start a new life.
Shallow’s gift is finding the insight and hope in each experience she describes in the book. Her difficult upbringing made her a natural survivor. Although she ended her “traumatic” marriage with Survivor: Samoa contestant John Fincher in 2021, she cherishes their daughter, Ama, and the transformative wisdom she gained while pregnant. And in mourning her brother Kaelan, who died of an accidental overdose in 2009, she found a deeper connection to her spirituality. It’s no wonder that when she’s not making her enemies weep on the beach, Shallow works as a life coach. Implicit in Nice Girls Don’t Win is an invitation for the reader to ask what power they might be able to claim for themselves through hard work and emotional honesty.
I caught up with Shallow to discuss what all of these experiences have taught her and how she boiled it all down into one book — a process that turned out to be an “emotional endurance challenge” on its own. “Anytime I say yes to the call of adventure and I throw myself into it, I know I’m going to encounter some intense challenges,” Shallow says, “but I’m also going to get some magical powers from it.”
Have you always known you wanted to write a memoir?
I’d attempted many times to write a book, and it just didn’t happen. I could never figure out a structure or what it would be about. I thought it was going to be more of a “how-to,” because I have always been very into self-development. I’m a Virgo through and through. But I think what I’ve realized over my life, and especially more recently when I lost my brother and went through that grief, is that the books that supported me the most were personal stories and memoirs. So as I was writing my book, it shifted away from how-to and more into a personal story as a way to support others and, really, me now — 42-year-old me — supporting younger me through the different phases of my life that were really challenging.
You worked with a writing coach for two years to shape the book’s voice and narrative. Why not wing it or hire a ghostwriter?
Writing my book was really born out of necessity, because I got to a place in my life where I had filed for divorce, I had moved out, I was in my own place for the first time ever, and I was like, “How did I get here?” I knew I wanted to make a whole different life for myself from this place of divorce. It was hard for me to choose that path, and I wanted it to be worthwhile. I wanted to really be able to create a completely new life. In order to do that, I had to look at myself as the common denominator for all the problems in my life — really figure it out. So I did this whole deep dive.
I didn’t remember very much from my childhood at all. I’d been told that my childhood was idyllic. That was the blanket statement. So I was like, “I don’t know if it really was.” I started digging and heard my parents’ stories and other people’s stories, and I was like, “Oh, my childhood was really gnarly and was the foundation for the relationships and life that I’d created.”
You write about how your parents didn’t talk much about what they went through during your early childhood. How much of the information in this book is new, even to you?
I dug up the bones. Like, the bones were buried. Nobody wanted to look at them ever again. They were painful and dark memories, I think, that were scary for my parents. When we moved away, they worked really hard to build a completely new life for our family. They left everything and everyone they knew, because they knew it wasn’t healthy and they had to get out. It was me and my sister, and they had no money. They were in complete survival mode.
It was just like how I was when I became a new mom. I knew things were off with my marriage, but I did not have the capacity to make any kind of change — to look at anything deeply, to analyze anything. It was just one foot in front of the other: You gotta feed your kid. You gotta get out of bed, she’s crying. That’s how my parents were when we left, and then enough time went by that life had its own momentum. I was assimilating, figuring out how to live in a new, whole different culture, where there was, like, pop music and jeans and stuff. People wore shoes. I was like, “What?”
So a lot of the information in the book was new. I even did research on Ma, the guru, and learned that she had cultivated her powers through a weight-loss clinic. She learned some breathwork techniques, and that induced an altered state in her, and then she taught them to other people. They were in these altered states, and it’s easy to get people to comply when they feel high. Really, that’s what’s happening in the United States now. People are easier to control when they’re kept in a state of fear and survival. You can’t really think deeply or transform without safety and space.
Is any part of you scared to share this part of yourself with the world?I’ve been on reality TV since I was 22; I love shocking people. So there’s a part of me that’s getting a lot of glee out of this — sharing my story and having people be like, “Oh my!” And then there’s another part of me that’s like, This is going to be very useful for people to hear these kinds of stories, because I think a lot of people have this perception of me, from watching me play these games, that I’m just this badass bitch who takes no prisoners. So to see that I struggled in all these very human ways, I think, will be helpful for people. That’s ultimately what is inspiring me to put it out into the world. Because some of the stuff is so deeply tender and vulnerable, like losing my brother and then falling in love. I kind of want to protect those stories and put them in a little treasure box. But my book wouldn’t be complete without those in there.
You write about how your relationship with comedian Mae Martin completely reorganized your understanding of yourself. How is that relationship now? Has it continued to change you?
I am fundamentally and cellularly transformed from my relationship with Mae. In every possible way. It felt similar to becoming a new mother, and I wrote about that in the book. When we went out into the world, my brain was shifted sideways, and everyone else was acting normal, and I was like, “How could they just be acting normal? What in the world?” It was a little scary, and also really exciting and joyful.
Can you confirm if you’re still together?
There’s so much personal stuff in the book, I’m going to keep that private.
You’ve been in the public eye for a long time, but viewers at home have had no idea about your private life. How has it felt to be perceived but perhaps not fully seen over the years?
I have really longed to be seen more holistically and in a more whole, human way. Writing this book and putting it out into the world is my attempt at that. It feels good for me, that I’m the one who gets to tell my story.
I write about this in the “Freeze” chapter — that now in Survivor, they put stories of people’s personal lives and what they’re going through at home into the show to show a more complete picture of who this person is. I didn’t have that in my seasons of Survivor. So this is my reclamation. This is my redemption story, to be able to say, “Yeah, actually, what you saw was a glimpse of a person who showed up in this arena and played a hell of a game, while also going through all this other stuff that was super challenging and vulnerable.”
And then after I got out of that game, I was raked over the coals by not only the press and critics and audiences, but also the people I played with. I fought it for a long time, then accepted it, and then really clawed my way out of a pit of shame so I could have a good life and like myself and be really proud of the work that I did on these shows. Because it’s not easy to do that. It’s not easy to play Survivor in the first place, but to do it three times in a row, as well as I did, in that kind of container? I should be proud of that. I wasn’t for a long time, so I’m glad that I can be now.
What was the hardest thing about switching gears from the Survivor mold to go on The Traitors?
Honestly, the hardest thing about prepping for The Traitors was the outfits. On Survivor, you have one outfit, all set. On Traitors, Alan Cumming’s hosting this. I gotta bring it.
How many headbands have you collected since the season aired?
I have a headband shelf where they stack up, but I’m gonna have to go back on Traitors to wear my headbands again, because I’m not wearing them in my day-to-day.
Do you ever hold grudges after you leave a reality season?
I do not hold grudges. I don’t want that energy inside my body. And if I’m going to be able to forgive myself for all the things that I’ve done, then I can’t hold a grudge against someone else for doing the stuff they had to do to win. So, no.
Do you think our understanding of reality TV “villains” has evolved over the years?
The culture has definitely shifted, and there’s more of a respect for gameplay now. It’s seen as cool and strong to be a villain.
It’s so liberating to be a villain. It’s freeing to not have to try to prove that you’re a good person. You don’t need people to like you or think highly of you. I don’t need that anymore.
There’s also a specific challenge to being a female villain. Do you think that’s changed over time?
I think the gay community is helping a lot to change the paradigm of women villains. There’s an acknowledgment and celebration of women villains from the gay community that’s really fun and playful and joyful. I’m going to these drag shows now, and the drag queens are dressing up like me and Sandra Diaz-Twine and Jerri Manthey and Cirie Fields. They’re putting on these big costumes and these really beautiful, fun, campy productions of these women villains as symbols of empowerment — symbols of being yourself and stepping into your authenticity. And I love that.
I noticed in your book that you seem to have an affinity for mermaids. You compare your mother’s hair to a mermaid’s, and you named your daughter after the ama in Japan, whom you describe as real-life mermaids. You also talk about feeling like a mermaid in the ocean during Survivor. Where does that come from?
Are you a mermaid?
I’m a Pisces from Florida, so close enough.
I loved Little Mermaid growing up. That was my favorite Disney movie. I was Ariel. I had dreams that I could breathe underwater constantly. When she trades her voice for legs, I’m like, “How many times have I done that in my life?” So many times. And now, I more relate to Ursula. I feel like, “Oh, she’s so hot and embodied and va va voom.” I play Ursula with my kid, and she’s Ariel, and she loves it.
I think it’s this symbolic ability to dive into the depths of the dark waters. Water is related to the emotional realm, and I think for me, swimming around in that space is something that I have a desire for. It’s something I kind of have to do to be okay. I have to swim around in the dark depths to feel at home. I have built that experience into my life, and now my daughter, she’s a Cancer, and I heard from an astrologer that she’s a grand water trine. So that just means she’s really emotional.
I was going to say, she’s doomed!
I’m like a container for her big emotions, which is why I have to do all the work on myself. Because having an emotional outburst or an emotional expression as a child, for me, was not safe. In the commune, the only person who was allowed to have any kind of display of emotions was the guru. And beyond that, everyone else had to be very contained and very disciplined and very selfless. So that was how I grew up. It wasn’t articulated; nobody said, “This is what’s happening.” It was just the water that I swam in. Now that I’ve got my legs and I’m on dry land, I can sort of look back and see, “Oh my God, that water was pretty toxic.”
You describe pregnancy as a really revelatory experience, and at the same time, you also talk a lot about the postpartum anxiety you dealt with after giving birth. Is there anything you wish you could change about how we as a society mythologize pregnancy and motherhood?
I think for a lot of women, pregnancy is this phase to get through so you can have your baby, and then after that, it’s all about getting your body back. So many people have asked me about that. “How did you get your body back?” I’m like, “I had a relationship that was falling apart and traumatic, and I went and did Survivor and starved to death.” Is that how you want to get your body back?
If I could wave a magic wand and change the world and how it relates to women, especially going through pregnancy and becoming new mothers, I would give us so much more support. I would be like, “Listen, this is the biggest transformation of your entire life. You will never be the same after this. Take your time. Sleep, rest, eat, watch TV, be lazy. Don’t try to be so achievement-oriented. This is your time to unravel those habits so that you can shrink your life down to the present moment, because once your baby is born, all your baby needs and wants from you is your presence. And it is so hard to give when you’re thinking about what you’re missing out on and what you can’t do because you’re pregnant or you have this newborn and all your friends are getting married in Italy and you can’t go on their catamaran and drink the Champagne.” If I could do it all over again, I would set up so much support for myself, and I would just give myself permission to chill.
What did this writing process ultimately teach you about yourself and your life?
I think it’s that I can really commit to something that is brutally torturous. Like, feeling really hard feelings and sitting with them enough to understand them, transform them, and empower myself through them. I knew I could endure any physical challenge. I’ve done that on Survivor so many times. But this was an emotional endurance challenge, and I feel like I nailed it.
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