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Demi Lovato Says Her New Grammy Song, ‘Anyone,’ Was ‘A Cry For Help’

Demi Lovato is about to make her musical comeback, which includes performances on two of the world’s biggest stages. But before that, she’s shining a light on the tough journey that led her there.

In a candid new interview with Zane Lowe, Lovato discussed this Sunday’s Grammys, which will mark her first live performance in nearly two years. The 27-year-old revealed that the song she’ll be debuting onstage, “Anyone,” was written and recorded just four days before her July 2018 drug overdose and subsequent hospitalization.

“I listen back and hear these lyrics as a cry for help,” Lovato said of the new track. “You kind of listen back to it and you think, how did nobody listen to this song and think, ‘Let’s help this girl?'”

“I was recording it in a state of mind where I felt like I was OK, but clearly I wasn’t,” she continued. “I even listen back to it and I’m like, ‘Gosh, I wish I could go back in time and help that version of myself.'” Reflecting on her hospital stay, Lovato recalled thinking, “If there’s ever a moment where I get to come back from this, I want to sing this song.”

Lovato’s Grammy performance comes just days before she’s scheduled to sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl, and as she told Lowe, fans will continue hearing more from her in 2020. She confirmed that she’s working on her seventh studio album, saying, “[“Anyone”] is only telling a fraction of my story, but it’s still a little bit, and it’s enough to show the world where I’ve been. … With the next song that I have coming out, I think I tell more of the story.

“It’s going to be a big year and I feel the momentum,” she added. “I feel the excitement, and I’m ready for it.”

Elsewhere in her chat with Lowe, Lovato talked about her ongoing recovery, her newfound faith, and her desire to start a family sometime in the next decade. See the full interview above.

I’m In Early Menopause at 40

It started with sex. Searing, agonizing sex—just like the very first time I tried it. But now I was 40, and unlike when I was 20, there was no reason to be optimistic that the pain detonating across my pelvis would eventually go away.

I tried shifting my hips, curling onto my side, holding my breath, but each time I had sex the throbbing pain roared. At first I was convinced it was a cyst—a ball of cells so large that nothing, barring a tampon, could enter. I had gone through five rounds of IVF to have my daughter, so it didn’t seem far-fetched to concoct a theory that the injected hormones had transformed into a pulsating polyp blocking my cervix. (Though highly unlikely, it was possible.) But an excruciating 15-minute vaginal ultrasound turned up nothing.

With no apparent physical problem, I was told that I probably had vaginismus, a painful contraction of the muscles around the vagina that can make sex hell. According to the Cleveland Clinic, it’s considered a primarily psychological condition, the pain arising from, “fear of sex, anxiety, past sexual abuse or trauma and negative emotions towards sex.” Treatment often involves therapy—but I was already in therapy and had been for years. Cracking open memories and dissecting grief in a psychotherapist’s office was something I grew up with. I was flummoxed. Had I been so deep in the emotional weeds that I had unintentionally sidelined a trauma that was now wreaking havoc on my sex life? I couldn’t shake the feeling that the diagnosis was a cursory reading of my pain—yet another dismissal of women’s symptoms by the medical system.

And then came the sweat.

One night, I awoke to a mosaic of perspiration covering my eyes, upper lip, and chest. It became my new nocturnal norm. Shirts turned sloppy wet. Waves of searing heat radiated from my core. Pajamas were ruined. The night sweats were only made worse by my almost two-year-old deciding to transition from her bed into ours and lovingly wrapping her arms around my torso, head or whatever she could cling to throughout the night. I felt like a human hot water bottle.

Finally, with a thud, my period stopped. One month turned into two, turned into eight and I had to face facts: this looked a lot like menopause.

By this time, I was only 41—a full decade younger than the average age of women in menopause. The idea that I might be entering early menopause—or even the stage before it, perimenopause—had not even been a footnote in any of the conversations I’d had with doctors up until this point. I felt stumped by my body as it convulsed with changes I thought were meant for women much older than me. Women like my mom and my grandma. Those were the women who went through menopause—not new moms like me.

I made an appointment with an endocrinologist, who asked me a battery of questions and then took several vials of blood. A week later he called and confirmed: I was in perimenopause. My ovaries were slowing down their production of estrogen until I’d never have a period again.

I thought I had years of my youth left to contemplate what this experience might mean, but my rapidly waning fertility, and even the loss of the predictable monthly routine of menstruating, forced me to face the notion that I was transitioning into the second half of my life. I felt relieved to finally have a diagnosis, but also a surprising feeling of shame that I had somehow hadn’t managed to hold on to those precious nubile years quite as long as most women.

Unlike most of my menopausal relatives who didn’t start dealing with this until their 50s, I was advised to take hormones—namely estrogen and progesterone, in the form of patches, pills, and vaginal inserts—to try to confront my prematurely aging body. “If you go into menopause earlier than 51, the priority in terms of medical issues we worry about is your bones,” says Taraneh Shirazian, M.D., a board-certified ob-gyn and founder of Mommy Matters. “That is because between 40 and 51 you have that many years left ahead where the bones won’t get as much estrogen.”

The 10 Most Badass John Wick Characters, Ranked

We don’t get a chance to see Marcus much, but Willem Dafoe‘s character gets to go down swinging at the end of the movie. Viggo Tarasov tortures Marcus, both as punishment for his failure to kill John, and as a way to get John Wick to come out in the open. Marcus gets pretty well beaten down, he’s bloody as hell, and he takes a knife in the knee, but in the end, he’s not going to go down without a fight. He says, right before his last stand, that he plans to go out on his own. He knows he’s going to die, but he plans to take as many people with him on his way out, and he does just that.

Yes, Ghostbusters: Afterlife Will Address The Death Of Harold Ramis

For a film that is about ghosts and subtitled Afterlife to be in part about the loss of a family member, and on a metatextual level about the loss of a beloved actor, feels appropriate. In a way, it seems like Ghostbusters: Afterlife will act as a tribute of sorts, both to the franchise’s past and Harold Ramis in particular, but doing so in a way that allows new faces to be brought in and an original new Ghostbusters story to be told.

Michael Bay Had Blunt Advice For Bad Boys For Life’s Directors

Early into the development into Bad Boys 3, what we now know as Bad Boys For Life, Michael Bay, the director of the first two Bad Boys movies, expressed interest in helming the movie, but ultimately it was Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah who fulfilled those duties. However, the directing duo would still end up meeting Bay when he came onto the Bad Boys For Life set, and he didn’t mince words with Arbi and Fallah when offering advice on the movie. As they recalled:

19 Best Glitter French Manicure Ideas for 2020

Despite the fact that we just entered 2020, by looking at the current trends I could swear we’re back in 2005. Bella Hadid is reviving low-rise pants (along with Louis Vuitton logo tops), lip gloss is back, and Paris Hilton is in the news again thanks to the best cooking video I’ve ever seen. The early-aughts aesthetic may be divisive, but there’s no arguing history is repeating itself.

In beauty, it’s been most obvious with the return of the French mani. The look more or less disappeared into oblivion after the turn of the decade (the 2010s, not the one that just happened), becoming a distant memory of spring fling dances past. But over the last year, it slowly began to re-emerge on an influencer here, a celeb there (both Kim Kardashian and Bella Hadid were early adopters), until it was everywhere. From awards show red carpets to backstage at fashion week, it’s not a major event now if there isn’t a French mani present.

I for one love the look. It’s classic and slightly tacky at the same time, which happens to be a perfect summary of my personal style. And when done with a more modern rounded tip it makes nails look long and elegant. But I understand that the look may be too closely tied to horrible spray tans and over-teased hair poufs to even consider trying. That’s where the many variations on French tips come in that make the look feel fresh and modern.

The coolest of the moment? The glitter French manicure, which as the name plainly states is a French manicure with glitter. Depending on your preference, this can mean a base of glitter with a colorful tip or a simple base with a glitter tip. Either way, it’s an easy trick to add sparkle to your nails while still looking grown-up; plus, it looks excellent peeking out of sweater sleeves this time of year. And unlike the classic white and baby pink look, adding some extra dimension plants the trend firmly in 2020. If you need more convincing, scroll on for some of the coolest glitter French manicure ideas on Instagram.

Glitter Base

A thin coat of glitter paired with a colorful tip is equal parts ethereal and high-fashion.

Glitter Tips

A bold coat of glitter (or crystals! or sequins!) in gold or silver gives a French mani a modern touch.

Diffused Glitter

For a French-but-not-quite manicure, diffuse your glitter down the nail for a softer look.

Bella Cacciatore is the beauty associate at Glamour. Follow her on Instagram @bellacacciatore_.

The Verishop Sale Is Up to 80% Off, and Our Carts Are Full

The best sales are the ones that come with free shipping and an almost too-good-to-be-true discount. These unicorns aren’t easy to find, but we uncovered one of the best sales of the season thanks to our latest shopping vice, Verishop. It’s basically what you’d get if Amazon and Nordstrom had a baby, with free one-day shipping and expertly curated fashion, beauty, and home decor products.

Now is prime time to discover the magic for yourself with up to 80% off all sale items. There’s everything from Free People, Vince, and Agolde for your closet to Bioderma, Oribe, and Tata Harper for your beauty shelf. Trust us, the list goes on, but more on that shipping policy: It bests Amazon Prime’s two-day offering, which we never thought was possible. At Verishop you get free one-day shipping and free returns. We know.

On top of it all, Verishop just extended its sale which offers an extra 25% off all products with code SALE25. Whether you’re shopping for yourself or someone else, we went ahead and picked the 12 best fashion deals you can buy today and have tomorrow.

All products featured on Glamour are independently selected by our editors. However, when you buy something through our retail links, we may earn an affiliate commission.

Why The Gentlemen’s Hugh Grant Loves Being Asked To Play Villains

Hugh Grant is an actor known for mostly playing charming, befuddled, leading men. But he’s also gotten to play a few bad boys. The 59 year-old actor finds that particular experience cathartic, probably because he’s nothing like the bad boys he’s played like The Gentlemen‘s Fletcher. This new character is a scheming scene-stealer, who drinks like a fish and has a mouth like a sailor. It’s a great role for Grant, and the trailers alone highlight how much he enjoyed playing Fletcher on set from

From Billie To Lizzo To Yola, Get To Know 2020’s Best New Artist Grammy Nominees

This nine-piece, multi-artform collective, led by Tarriona “Tank” Ball, formed in 2011 after meeting at an open-mic show in New Orleans. Ball, known for her slam poetry, is one piece of the puzzle, with synth players, background vocalists, saxophonists, and others coming together for four-dimensional representations of soul, rap, and funk music. In 2017, they won NPR’s Tiny Desk Contest for their submission of a performance of “Quick” and released their sophomore studio album, Green Balloon, last year, along with a live album, Live Vibes 2. Now, they’re primed to do just about anything. Everyone’s listening.

Nancy Drew Killed in New Comic So the Hardy Boys Can Hunt Her Murderer

Pour one out for Nancy Drew—murdered so that men could valiantly investigate her death.

It’s just like Nancy says, in the books: “Ah, gee! There’s no mystery more urgent than how to make men feel needed.”

An upcoming comic book, descriptively titled Nancy Drew & the Hardy Boys: The Death of Nancy Drew, will celebrate the teen girl detective’s 90th anniversary by killing her, Polygon reports. This comic—an installment in the Drew/Hardy Boys reboot that writer Anthony Del Col has been making with Dynamite Entertainment since 2017—will give The Hardy Boys the chance to crack the case.

Weird—it’s almost like the most legendary fictional comic book detective had to die to give her male competitors a chance to shine.

Look, Nancy Drew is a fictional character, and for all we know the “murder” in the story is just an elaborate fake-out, not to mention a smart stunt to get the comic book some press. But there is so much violence against women—and such a fixation in our culture with women’s dead and maimed bodies, from gruesome tabloid headlines to Law and Order: SVU to murder podcasts to thrillers about decapitated rape victims—that one has to wonder whether killing off an iconic children’s character was…essential?

In Del Col’s comic, the brilliant teen sleuth—whom Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Oprah, Sonia Sotomayor, Barbra Streisand, and Hillary Clinton have named as a major inspiration—is older and more sexualized, described as a “femme fatale.”

To be fair, her appearance is a big part of the books—the writers (who used the collective pen name Carolyn Keene) never get more than a page into the story without calling her “attractive, blonde Nancy.” But the classic Nancy books were published in the 1930s. It’s funny that more than 80 years since Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase, our girl is being written with even more male gaze and less agency.

Happy birthday, Nancy. You’re making a lot of men a lot of money.

Jenny Singer is a staff writer for Glamour.