I've had a lot of crazy things happen in my life. In high school, from age 15 to 18, I was saddled with the unfortunate nickname of "Junk", which doesn't do a lot for one's self-esteem. The older boys came up with that name to describe the way I dressed, the way I looked, the way I was to them. I was new at my school, having just moved there--so I guess that meant I was fair game . . . I wanted to dress it up and look sexy, but, at that time, I didn't know anything about sex. I knew nothing about a man's body. I barely knew anything about my own body back then, much less anyone else's . . . The boys called me names to break me down, which they did. They never knew it--I wouldn't cry or let on that it was really killing me--but in fact, it hurt in ways I can never fully express. I couldn't let them know I was afraid. And I was. Absolutely terrified. Even so, I was never the type to hide when I felt afraid. I would walk right down the middle of the hall with my head held high. It screwed up a lot of the ways I felt about sex in general--dress or appear provocative, you were trash or junk because of it. It was a three-year horrifying experience. A lot like the film Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995), except I was persecuted for looking sexy instead of geeky. Show less «

I love doing Callisto [in Xena: Warrior Princess (1995)]. It's therapy. I mean, wouldn't you love it, if you got to scream and yell and you got to fight people and you got a sword and no one yelled at you? . . . No, I didn't study . . . It's just from the inside. Show less «