Dolly
There have been very few times in my life when a celebrity's death has truly affected me. I've always been careful about putting people on pedestals.
I think that started when I was eleven years old—the day I learned my biological father was a liar and a cheater. He was my first hero, and my first heartbreak. From that moment on, I made a promise to myself: never put anyone in that position again. I was too young to fully understand what it meant to call someone a hero, but I knew the disappointment that came when they fell short.
That's why it surprises me how deeply the loss of Dolly Parton has affected me.
I didn't grow up with Dolly's music. In fact, my first introduction to her was through Hannah Montana. To me, she was simply Miley Stewart's sweet and loving godmother. After that, I didn't spend much time learning about her. I just knew she seemed kind.
Years later, I realized that version of Dolly wasn't a character at all.
Throughout my life, I only ever heard good things about her. Whether through the media, stories from others, or casual conversations, the message was always the same: people genuinely loved Dolly Parton.
When I moved to Nashville in 2023, I found myself wanting to learn more about the artists who helped shape country music. Naturally, Dolly's name kept appearing. The deeper I dug into her story, the more fascinated I became. That interest only grew after watching Dumplin', which gave me an even greater appreciation for the impact she has had on so many people.
For those who may not know much about her, Dolly's story is remarkable.
Born in Locust Ridge, Tennessee, she was the fourth of twelve children in a family with very little money. She grew up singing church hymns and mountain ballads before moving to Nashville after high school to pursue a career in music.
What followed was a career most artists could only dream of.
She earned 25 number-one country singles and spent decades dominating country radio. She wrote and recorded timeless songs like "Jolene," "Coat of Many Colors," and "9 to 5." She successfully bridged the gap between country and pop music, eventually earning induction into both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
But her accomplishments extended far beyond music.
She co-founded Dollywood, helping boost the economy of East Tennessee. She created the Imagination Library, a book-gifting program inspired by her father's inability to read, which has provided millions of books to children around the world. She donated millions of dollars to medical research, disaster relief efforts, and community programs.
Needless to say, Dolly accomplished more in one lifetime than most people could imagine.
Yet what stands out most to me isn't her success. It's the way she carried herself through it all.
Everything she did seemed to come from a place of authenticity and love. She used her platform to support people who needed support. She embraced who she was and encouraged others to do the same.
"If you don't like the road you're walking, start paving another one."
It's impossible not to notice how much admiration people have for Dolly here in Tennessee. Some might say I arrived late to the Dolly Parton fan club, but I think I found her exactly when I needed to.
When I moved from California to Tennessee, I was standing at a crossroads in my own life. I was starting over. Reinventing myself. I wasn't just changing locations—I was trying to build a more authentic life.
I wanted freedom.
I wanted peace.
I wanted to surround myself with love.
Most importantly, I wanted to become a better version of myself.
That's why another one of Dolly's quotes has stayed with me:
"Find out who you are and do it on purpose."
I carry those words with me every day. Whenever I feel lost or uncertain, they remind me to return to myself and remember what matters most.
I didn't know Dolly personally, but the truth is, you didn't have to.
She gave so much of herself through her music, her philanthropy, her humor, and her unwavering kindness that people felt they knew her anyway. In many ways, she became everyone's godmother.
The word hero still feels complicated to me. It's a title I've been hesitant to give anyone for most of my life. I still don't believe in placing people on pedestals. No one is perfect, and no one should have to be.
But Dolly taught me something important.
Being a hero isn't about perfection. It's about the impact you have on others. It's about choosing kindness, leading with love, and using whatever influence you have to make someone's life a little brighter.
Through Dolly's example, I've learned that there are no levels to love. We should offer it freely—to our neighbors, our friends, and strangers alike—regardless of status, fame, or circumstance.
Dolly earned a special place in my heart, not because she was larger than life, but because she never acted like she was.
Thank you, Dolly, for opening my heart a little wider and reminding me that there is still so much good in humanity.
May you rest in peace.
