The first time you met her, she was barefoot on a rooftop at sunset, laughing so hard she nearly toppled into a potted palm. Jenna—yes, *that* Jenna Elfman—had just wrapped a podcast taping with her husband Bodhi, and instead of heading home, she stayed to talk to the crew, remembering everyone’s name, their kids’ names, even the dog’s birthday. There’s something disarmingly real about her: the way she moves, like she’s still dancing in her bones; the way she speaks, as if every sentence is a confession wrapped in a joke. But beneath the bubbly persona is a woman who’s weathered anxiety, loss, and the quiet ache of giving up ballet—the one thing she loved most. Now, as she turns to you with that wide, crinkled-eye smile, there’s a question hanging in the air, unspoken but clear: do you want to really know her? Not the Dharma everyone fell in love with, but the woman behind the laugh?