My blog updates are getting further and further apart, and what you’re about to read isn’t even an official Sally Cohen PR post. It’s a personal story that I would like to share because it’s time to stop keeping secrets.

I was never a very outspoken person, especially about politics. For most of my life, I was too self-centered, focused on pursuing my own dreams and worrying about my own problems. I also believed that personal opinions were meant to be just that, and that using celebrity to further an agenda was suspect. This probably served me well as a TV reporter, even though my beat was on the fluffier side – arts and entertainment.

As a freelance PR consultant for local artists and arts organizations for the past 13 years, I continued to be pretty careful about posting anything too controversial – especially anything negative about local media, as that would definitely fall into the “biting the hand that feeds you” category.

Then 2017 happened, and it opened the floodgates of divisive opinions, not just on a national level but also on a personal one. I started out tentatively during the Trump/Clinton election – dipping my toe into the scary sea of political debate on social media. I quickly found out that some of my friends and family members felt I was a traitor. I tried to remain calm, develop better listening skills, and have meaningful conversations, but soon came to the conclusion that there wasn’t enough common ground to even build upon. I no longer felt that celebrities should keep their opinions to themselves and that they have the right – as we all do – to speak up. I also decided that I can no longer keep my mouth shut about important issues, no matter what the personal or professional fallout – admittedly, not a super-brave decision in a country that still protects free speech, but kind of a milestone for me.

The #metoo movement is one of those issues, and one with which I have a more personal acquaintance than I would like. Maybe Oprah’s powerful speech at the Golden Globes motivated me to finally write this, but I have never understood why there’s even a debate about whether bringing sexual harassment and abuse into the spotlight is a good thing. IT IS. Having lived with keeping secrets about my molestation by a family member, two rapes, and a few work-related sexual harassments, I know that – as disappointing as it may be to hear that a favorite movie star is a sexual predator – it is ultimately the healthiest thing for our society to know the truth. And it’s infuriating to see the degradation of those who come forward.

Maybe organizations and companies who are now facing the exposure that they tried so hard to avoid will realize they need to take complaints more seriously – even if it’s driven by self-interest in order to avoid costly and embarrassing lawsuits. Maybe those who are enduring unwanted advances will now be more empowered to fend them off. Maybe young girls and boys will now be more aware and better able to protect themselves in situations about which many of us were too naïve. Maybe even those with sexually predatory inclinations will think twice – not sure about that one, though.

On a personal level, it has been interesting to dredge up painful memories and feelings and sharing them with others. Disturbing but cathartic, and ultimately: hopeful.

Before PR, before TV news, before my theatre career, I was a singer/songwriter, starting in my early teens. Although my lyrics weren’t political, there were personal. When I was in my twenties, I wrote a rock song called “Keep It a Secret,” which was actually on my debut (and only) Atlantic Records album in 1982. I couldn’t remember many of the lyrics these days, so I actually had to listen to the song again after all these years:

My, how you’ve grown now.
And, by the way, are your parents at home?
You’re lookin’ so pretty now.
I’m really glad I caught you all alone.

Don’t you remember your Uncle Lee?
You used to sit here on my knee.
I was nice to you;
You were nice to me.

But keep it a secret
Just keep it a secret

Just take off your blouse now.
If you do, I’ll give you some ice cream.
Don’t you put up a fight now,
‘Cause no one will hear you if you scream.

Now you remember your Uncle Lee –
Come over here, sit on my knee.
I’ll be nice to you
If you’re nice to me.

But keep it a secret
Just keep it a secret

Nobody told her
There was a danger –
It couldn’t happen to their little girl.
And they’ll never know it
‘Cause she’ll never show it.
Just keep it inside, little girl.

Keep it a secret
Just keep it a secret

I wonder how many Uncle Lees
Are sittin’ little girls on their knees?
Just how blind can you be?

To keep it a secret – shhh, keep it a secret
Keep it a secret – shhh, don’t tell a soul
Keep it a secret – oh, no one will know if you
Keep it a secret

Thanks for listening,

sally