Maybe the best way to describe being authentic is to use an example, and that example is Dolly Parton.
When Dolly died unexpectedly on Tuesday, August 25, 2026, the outpouring of comments was truly wonderful. She was generous, talented, caring, humble, down-to-earth, and the opposite of a narcissist. She was so caring that she didn’t want her fans and close friends to worry about her health. A narcissist would have made it all about themselves, amplifying the illness to get sympathy and attention. But an authentic person doesn’t need to do that.
Dolly was a trailblazer for women and a powerhouse in a small package. But one commentator who posted about Dolly, her fashion, and his view that she was a fashion icon struck a nerve with me.
WHAT? Excuse me.
Fashion icon.
I remember when people made fun of Dolly and her fashion. They joked about her tendency to always wear flashy, tacky rhinestone outfits. They made jokes about her huge boobs and the fact that she was a caricature.
But here is my point about her being authentic: she remained true to herself.
She once said she liked her big hair, her big boobs, and her heavy dose of makeup because it made her feel good. She didn’t run from it. She acknowledged it. She didn’t care that people made jokes about her. She liked what she liked, and she didn’t let negative comments change who she was.
Dolly was proud of her roots and decided to build an amusement park, Dollywood, in her hometown of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. She did it even though people told her it was foolish and that no one would go to the Appalachian Mountain area. She stuck to what she wanted to do, and she wanted to honor her hometown folks.
In one of her interviews, she said she was human and that some days she wasn’t in a good mood. And she wouldn’t take guff if people were mean. In fact, when Barbara Walters asked her if people called her a “hillbilly,” she replied with a smile that if they did, she would kick them in the shins.
She didn’t hide from the fact that she grew up poor. Instead, she wrote songs about it.
She was so humble.
She didn’t want her fans to worry about her health, and she downplayed her health problems, saying that “her butterfly wings just got a little tired.” She found solace in her work and philanthropy right up to the last moment.
I was struck by what her nephew said she wanted at the end. She wanted a nice, soft bed with plush sheets so she could rest.
Carrying those rhinestones could get very heavy.
Would I have been intimidated if I had her look—with the wigs, makeup, and big boobs—and would I have changed it all up so I wouldn’t look “ridiculous,” at least “ridiculous” as others defined it?
I don’t know.
But she didn’t.
Because she didn’t, and she just kept working, giving, and putting on a big smile, people came to love her. They saw that Dolly was a true breath of fresh air. A real, authentic person. Someone who was true to herself and, as a result, true to the world.
She was authentic.