I cried today.

Like, really cried.

When I heard that Dolly Parton had died at 80, this one hit me harder than I expected it to. And judging by the reaction everywhere today, I know I’m not alone.

Because we grew up with Dolly.

She was just… there.

Depending on your age, maybe you think of “Jolene” or “9 to 5.” Maybe it’s Steel Magnolias, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, “I Will Always Love You,” Dollywood, one of her Christmas specials, or even Hannah Montana.

Maybe it’s just the hair.

Or that laugh.

Everybody seems to have a Dolly.

And now she’s gone.

There are going to be a million articles written about her today. They’ll list the awards, albums, movies, records and everything else she accomplished during an unbelievable career.

She deserves every one of them.

But sitting here thinking about Dolly today, I keep coming back to something else.

Women in entertainment would not be where they are without Dolly Parton.

She Did It Her Way

Dolly came into the music industry at a time when men controlled damn near everything.

And she never decided that the way to be taken seriously was to make herself less feminine or somehow tone down who she was.

Quite the opposite.

The hair got bigger. The heels got higher. There were rhinestones everywhere. Long nails, tight clothes and that East Tennessee accent she never tried to get rid of.

She looked exactly the way she wanted to look.

And people underestimated the hell out of her because of it.

The funny thing is, Dolly knew they did.

She has spent years making jokes about her own appearance. She’d get to the joke before anyone else had the chance.

But underneath the hair and boobs and rhinestones was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

One of my favorite examples of that has always been the story of “I Will Always Love You.”

Elvis Presley wanted to record it.

Imagine being a songwriter and hearing that Elvis freaking Presley wants your song.

Dolly was thrilled.

Then Elvis’ manager, Colonel Tom Parker, told her that Elvis didn’t record songs unless they received half of the publishing rights.

Dolly said no.

She wanted Elvis to record it. She was heartbroken that it wasn’t going to happen.

But she wasn’t giving away half of her song.

Years later, Whitney Houston recorded “I Will Always Love You,” and it became one of the most famous recordings ever.

And Dolly still owned her song.

That’s not somebody who accidentally stumbled into a successful career.

That’s a woman who knew her worth.

Dolly Never Picked Just One Box

There’s something else Dolly proved that I think women are still fighting against today.

Why do we always have to pick?

You can be pretty or intelligent.

Sexy or respectable.

Funny or serious.

Feminine or powerful.

Dolly basically said screw that.

She could make a joke about her boobs and then turn around and negotiate a business deal.

She wrote incredible songs. She became a movie star. She crossed over from country into pop. She built Dollywood and turned her name into an enormous business.

And she did all of it while looking like Dolly Parton.

She didn’t walk into rooms controlled by powerful men and try to become one of them.

She walked in looking like herself.

I don’t think we talk enough about how important that was.

Women who came after Dolly entered an entertainment industry where she had already spent decades proving that a woman could own the songs, control the business, control her image, make the decisions and still be the star.

But This Is Why I Really Loved Her

As incredible as her career was, though, none of that is actually the biggest reason I’m sitting here crying over a woman I never met.

Dolly Parton was one of the best role models we had.

She stuck up for people.

And I mean everybody.

She supported children and education. She helped people after disasters. She supported medical research. She spoke about loving and accepting LGBTQ+ people even when that wasn’t necessarily the easiest thing for someone with her background and audience to do.

Her kindness didn’t seem to come with a list of qualifications.

You didn’t have to look like Dolly, believe exactly what Dolly believed or live the same kind of life Dolly lived before you deserved kindness from her.

You were a person.

That seemed to be enough.

And then there is the Imagination Library.

Dolly started it in 1995 in honor of her father, who couldn’t read or write.

What began in her home county in Tennessee became a program spanning multiple countries and, by the end of 2025, had given children more than 304 million books.

That number is insane.

More than 304 million books.

Think about how many little hands have opened one of those books.

How many bedtime stories came from them.

How many children learned to love reading because a book showed up at their house with their name on it.

I’m a writer. I love books. I believe wholeheartedly in what books can do for a kid.

I don’t even know how you measure a legacy like that.

We Grew Up With Her

I think that’s why this hurts so badly today.

Dolly didn’t feel like somebody who was eventually going to die.

I know that sounds ridiculous. Of course she was. She’s human.

But some people become such a permanent part of the world you’ve always known that your brain almost stops considering the possibility that someday they won’t be in it.

Dolly was one of those people for me.

Her husband, Carl Dean, died last year after nearly 60 years of marriage. Dolly made no secret of how heartbroken she was after losing him.

And now they’re both gone.

I don’t know what happens when we die. None of us really knows.

But God, I hope there’s something.

And if there is, I hope Carl was waiting for her.

That’s what I want to believe today.

There will be other incredible singers. There will be other brilliant songwriters and actresses and women who build enormous businesses.

But there will never be another Dolly Parton.

So maybe today we play the songs a little louder.

Maybe we watch 9 to 5 again.

Maybe we pick up a book and read it to a kid.

And maybe we remember some of the things Dolly spent 80 years showing us.

Know your worth.

Don’t give away something you created just because a powerful person wants it.

Don’t make yourself smaller to make somebody else more comfortable.

Laugh at yourself.

Be kind to people who aren’t exactly like you.

And when you’re fortunate enough to have something to give, give it.

Rest easy, Dolly.

Thank you for the music.

Thank you for the books.

And thank you for showing generations of women that we never had to become somebody else to become powerful.

Nerdy. Nostalgic. Unapologetically Us.

And Dolly was unapologetically Dolly.

I can’t think of a better way to remember her.