The finalization of her divorce from Arthur Miller in 1961 felt like the last anchor being cut from a drifting ship. Miller had been her last real connection to the world of intellect and legitimacy, the man she had hoped would save her from the superficiality of her Hollywood existence. Without him, she felt adrift in a sea of her own making, stripped of the status that marriage had provided.
Her professional life began to fracture as well, mirroring the instability of her private world. She would sign onto projects, desperate to prove her relevance, only to find the anxiety too great to sustain. She was an icon in search of a future, but the industry that had built her up was beginning to look at her as a liability. The tragedy was that she was finally finding the courage to be herself, but the world had no interest in the "real" Marilyn; they only wanted the ghost of the girl they had imagined.