Press - Drop Dead Diva (Marie Claire, 2/2012)

Say what you want about Christina Aguilera – she’s heard it all (and couldn’t care less). Now, on the heels of her 31st birthday, the pop icon is finally ready to set the record straight about her divorce, the tabloid rumors, and her new curves. True to form, Xtina always gets the last word.

Christina Aguilera looks every inch the consummate performer, whether working it onstage in front of thousands of fans – or in the midst of a PR crisis. Perched on a white couch after a photoshoot, her white-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyelids heavy with glitter, the singer appears calm, poised, and ready to answer tough questions. Having interviewed Aguilera several times before, I know that she’s an expert at delivering smart, sharp commentary on subjects she wants to discuss – and deft at avoiding those that she doesn’t. Recently, there have been a lot of tricky land mines to navigate. In 2010, she filed for divorce from music executive Jordan Bratman, her husband of five years; that same year, her album Bionic proved a critical and commercial disappointment. She didn’t fare much better at the box office: Critics lambasted Burlesque, her feature-film debut costarring Cher, as campy froth. Then came last year’s infamous Suoper Bowl incident, in which Aguilera flubbed the lines to the national anthem. A month later, while out with her boyfriend, production assistant Matt Rutler, she was arrested for public intoxication. (Charges were later dropped.)

“That was a rough year,” Aguilera admits, shaking her head. “Between my divorce and the other things I went through, a lot happened. It’s hard for anyone to go through that in public. But when you’re a celebrity and under a microscope, it’s 58 million times harder. I grew an even thicker skin after that hard year.” The scrutiny seems to have shown no signs of abating: Lately, she’s been subjected to cruel tabloid headlines about her fluctuating weight. (“I was never that fat,” crowed Kelly Osbourne on E! Fashion Police.) Aguilera’s response, she says, is to ignore the static. “I’ve been through my highs, I’ve been through my lows; I’ve been through the gamut of all things in this business. Being too thin. Being bigger. I’ve been criticized for being on both sides of the scale. It’s noise I block out automatically. I love my body. My boyfriend loooves my body. My son is healthy and happy, so that’s all that matters to me.”

Unlike a lot of Hollywood’s size-00 denizens, who obsess with hear-OCD fervor over every calorie, Aguilera claims she has never been more at peace with her figure. “I have certain physical features that I favor over others. We all have our areas,” she says, “When I worked on Burlesque, I lost so much weight that I was too skinny. I don’t weight myself – it’s all about how I feel in my clothes. What looks good on one person might not look good on another body type. I happen to be very confident in my own skin. It takes time to get to that place, but it’s all about embracing yourself and your body.”

Aguilera doesn’t just embrace her new figure so much as tie a ribbon around it and gift it to the world. On NBC’s breakout singing competition The Voice, where she holds court as the only woman on a panel of puckish judges Cee Lo Green, Maroon 5′s Adam Levine, and country hottie Blake Shelton, Aguilera favors unapologetic miniskirts, bustiers, and her trademark 6-inch Louboutins. And yet, despite the white-blonde Betty Boop routine (“It is called show business,” Aguilera says), The Voice, which was her mentoring cadre of pop wannabes, spotlights sides of Aguilera we’ve rarely glimpsed before: nurturing, funny, flirty. The show’s choicest moments are offset rehearsals that find her alone with a contestant, dispensing advice and inspiration. In these unscripted scenes, Aguilera looks and sounds like a lot of us: a been-there-done-that survivor who’s known her share of triumph and pain, yet plows ahead all the same.

Aguilera’s recent travails have somehow softened her, a single mom by day, diva by night, clad this afternoon in a vintage baseball tee, spandex leggings, and – what else? – Louboutins studded with gold spikes. But where she used to hide behind her costumes (remember that signature smear of red lipstick?), these days she sees her work as part of a bigger picture. “I love the theatrics, and entertaining is that I was put on this earth to do, but there’s a superficiality to it,” she says. “When I was younger, I lived for my art and my work; I wanted it to be Back to Basics [Aguilera's most recent Grammy-nominated album] all the time. Becoming a mother has helped me realize who I am aside from my career.”

Aguilera, it may surprise you to learn, turned 31 in december. Young though she looks, she’s an industry veteran who made her television debut nearly two decades ago as a Mouseketeer on Disney’s The New Mickey Mouse Club. By 19, she was a Billboard phenom with a self-titled debut album that sold more than 8 million copies and earned her a Grammy for Best New Artist. Privately, though, Aguilera struggled to move on from a troubled past. She claims that her father, an Army sergeant, abused her mother (a charge he denies) and shuttled their family around the country, from base to base. Aguilera remembers racing upstairs to sing out of her bedroom window – anything to escape the fighting. When she married Bratman in November 2005 and gave birth to their son, Max Liron, three years later, she thought she’d found her safe heaven, but the marital bliss wouldn’t last.

“The decisions I’ve made thus far have been made for Max’s benefit,” Aguilera says. “It comes from a place of wanting peace, not chaos. I was raised in a very chaotic home, and that’s one thing I have no patience for. I have to surround my son with positive, strong relationships so that he feels he has a cohesive family.” The idea of a broken home is anathema to the singer, who says, “I don’t believe in them. [Jordan and I] take pictures together at Max’s school functions to show there is no animosity. Children of divorce feel broken when parents want to take shots at each other. There are many different types of families; I try to center ours around Max and his happiness.”

But single motherhood has proven lonely at times, Aguilera confesses. “It’s hard not having the consistency of a partnership on a daily basis. It’s a struggle. But I can’t single out my ex-husband [as the problem] because he’s a devoted father and great with my son. We always make sure that we put Max first. I have help from family and good people around me in support of my career. I couldn’t do what I do without a strong team behind me.”

Aguilera’s after-hours antics are routinely documented by the phalanx of paparazzi that trail her everywhere. But don’t be fooled into thinking this woman is all play, no work. Quite the contrary. Aguilera’s extraordinary work ethic is well-known in the music industry. These days, when she’s not taping the second season of The Voice, she’s in the studio, at work on her upcoming album, which she describes “a strong, honest approach to allowing the world to see the survivor in me.” A devoted, if not low-key, philanthrophist, Aguilera is credited with helping to raise $22 million for the World Food Programme to help fight hunger. She’s usually home every night to put Max, now 4, to bed, though she might slip out for some fun afterward. Aguilera concedes she enjoys the occasional evening out – “Mama’s a night owl,” she purrs – but she also indulges in the kind of me-time that working moms swoon over. “The makeup comes off, the sweatpants go on. Cozy T-shirts, bare feet,” Aguilera says. “Then it’s all about my bed. There’s a beautiful shag rug underneath it, steps leading up to it, and a huge canopy: I love my bed. I do everything in the bed – I make meetings there! It’s my sanctuary.”

It’s dark by the time we wrap up our talk – Max’s bedtime. Aguilera is still in a reflective mood as we say our goodbyes. “Time heals everything,” she tells me. “Sometimes you have to go through that pain and heartbreak so that you can get to the other side and come out on top.” Standing up, just barely clearing my shoulders (even in heels), she leans in for a friendly – if uncharacteristic – hug. “I’m 31 years old,” she continues. “That’s a new chapter in a woman’s life where you just want to grab life by the” – she clenches her fist – “well, I can’t say balls!” (She’s a mom now, after all.) She laughs, her big blue eyes widen. “You want to grab life, embrace it, and live it to the fullest.”