She remembered the early closeness with Rob Reiner, not as myth or grievance, but as it felt then: mutual, hopeful, unfinished. Late conversations. Creative hunger. The sense that they were moving forward together. What followed, she explained, was not a rupture, but a drift—subtle enough to miss while it was happening. Decisions made without consultation. Opportunities that quietly changed direction. A growing sense that her name was present while her agency was not.
No scandals were invoked. No moments sharpened for headlines. Only the slow realization that trust, once given too freely, can cost more than it promises. That careers do not always end with conflict; sometimes they narrow through omission, through being spoken for instead of spoken with.
When she finished, there was no applause. The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but attentive—the kind that signals recognition rather than judgment. She did not ask for redress. She did not seek to rewrite history or assign blame. What she claimed was simpler and harder: authorship.
By speaking, she did not attempt to diminish anyone else’s success. She clarified her own experience. And in doing so, she stepped out from a shadow that had lingered less because of another person’s power than because of her own long-held restraint. Continue reading…
