In the follow-up to her #1 bestselling memoir, A Stolen Life , Jaycee Dugard tells the story of her first experiences after years in captivity: the joys that accompanied her newfound freedom and the challenges of adjusting to life on her own. When Jaycee Dugard was eleven years old, she was abducted from a school bus stop within sight of her home in South Lake Tahoe, California. She was missing for more than eighteen years, held captive by Philip and Nancy Garrido, and gave birth to two daughters during her imprisonment. In A Stolen Life Jaycee told the story of her life from her abduction in 1991 through her reappearance in 2009. Freedom: My Book of Firsts is about everything that happened next. “How do you rebuild a life?” Jaycee asks. In these pages, she describes the life she never thought she would live to see: from her first sight of her mother to her first time meeting her grownup sister, her first trip to the dentist to her daughters’ first day of school, her first taste of champagne to her first hangover, her first time behind the wheel to her first speeding ticket, and her first dance at a friend’s wedding to her first thoughts about the possibility of a future relationship. This raw and inspiring book will remind you that there is, as Jaycee writes, “life after something tragic happens…Somehow, I still believe that we each hold the key to our own happiness and you have to grab it where you can in whatever form it might take.” Freedom is an awe-inspiring memoir about the power we all hold within ourselves. Jaycee Dugard is the author of the memoir A Stolen Life , which tells the story of her kidnapping and eighteen years of captivity. Her second book is Freedom: My Book of Firsts . Freedom Fly Me to the Moon First time I flew in the plane I was six years old, and my mom had a boyfriend that was a pilot. I remember it was a little plane and I threw up. It wasn’t the most fun I ever had for sure. I never flew again until eighteen years later, after my rescue. The first time I flew in a big plane I was worried that same feeling of nausea would come back from my younger days. The chance to fly in a big plane far outweighed any fears I had, though, and I was looking forward to this new experience. I didn’t want to think about being sick. I just wanted to fly! Having a lot of time on my hands in the prison of Phillip and Nancy’s backyard, I had a lot of time to dream and fantasize. One fantasy I had was having the ability to fly like Peter Pan. Often dreaming that with a little fairy dust I could fly myself home—Poof! . . . Tinker Bell, where are you? I would cry. But she never came. I also imagined myself flying from city to city as a flight attendant one day. I thought it would be so much fun to see the world in this way. From London to Paris. Rome, Italy, Egypt. I have always wanted to see the pyramids. I did get to see the Mayan ruins on a trip to Belize. A group of us went to help a tiny village called Monkey River rebuild after the devastating hurricane that they were still recovering from. While there, we explored a pyramid called Altun Ha which means “stone water.” It was amazing and so big. Climbing to the top I felt like a queen. But I digress. I will tell you more of this story later. This trip was to be my first meeting with Nancy Seltzer. Our need for protection from the media was an obvious priority from the beginning of our recovery. We needed the time to focus on each other and not the constant hounding of the media we were experiencing. Some people wanted to help, and we got involved with one in particular that we thought we could trust. It didn’t end up that way, and we didn’t know where to turn for help after that. Rebecca wanted to help but had her hands full with not only our therapy needs but also dealing with all the agencies and law enforcement involved with the court case against Phillip and Nancy Garrido, our captors. Her brother-in-law, an actor, knew of our plight and suggested a woman that he trusted in the business of public relations. Rebecca passed this information on to me and, together with my mom, we contacted Nancy Seltzer and explained our story. We asked for her help and, thankfully, she agreed and the rest is history. She did what she said she would and protected us from the media and those who were seeking to exploit us. On the day of my first flight, we were actually met in the airport parking lot by a security guard and taken through a special way to avoid any press that was lurking. My story was still new then and in high demand. I was accompanied on this trip by my mom and therapist Rebecca. Once we boarded, I remember the flight attendant asking me if I was old enough to be sitting in the exit row. How funny she would ask, I thought. She said I looked like I was fifteen. No, I replied, I’m thirty! She was shocked. I don’t look my age, apparently. Still don’t to this day. The other day I was in Costco. They had the food samples