The little girl climbing trees in a Chicago neighborhood could hardly have imagined the woman she would become.
One day, millions of viewers would watch her glide across their television screens in immaculate clothes, armed with a devastating smile and enough ambition to destroy marriages, manipulate powerful men and seize control of an entire community.
Audiences loved to hate her.
One dangerously obsessed stranger, however, took that fascination much too far.
Long before the fame, she was a tomboy growing up in Norwood Park. She played outside, climbed trees and competed as a speed skater, collecting medals while other children were still discovering their balance.
But her greatest passion was dancing.
She began lessons at five and dreamed of becoming a ballerina, imagining flowers falling at her feet as she bowed before an applauding audience. Her teacher eventually recognized something the young dancer had not: the dramatic expressions crossing her face revealed an actress waiting to emerge.
Independence was another childhood lesson.
Her mother was primarily a housewife but occasionally worked as a telephone operator. The transformation that occurred whenever she earned her own money made a powerful impression on her daughter. It planted a conviction that would shape everything that followed—a woman should never surrender control of her life.
After briefly attending the University of Illinois, she chose the stage over the safe future her parents wanted.
At 19, she joined a touring production of My Fair Lady. New York followed, along with commercials, auditions and the exhausting uncertainty of trying to be noticed. She supported herself as a secretary before securing roles in the daytime dramas The Secret Storm and Love Is a Many Splendored Thing.
The transition to movies brought both opportunity and a trap.
In 1971, she appeared opposite Clint Eastwood in the psychological thriller Play Misty for Me. She played the innocent girlfriend threatened by a dangerously obsessive woman. The film succeeded, but Hollywood drew a frustrating conclusion from her performance.
She became the woman who needed rescuing.
For much of the 1970s, producers repeatedly cast her as a frightened victim or endangered beauty. She worked steadily, appearing in television movies and popular series, but the characters rarely possessed the strength she knew she could portray.
By the time she entered her 40s, Hollywood might have expected her opportunities to diminish.
Instead, she changed everything.
A prime-time drama set on a seemingly peaceful California cul-de-sac needed a new source of trouble. The actress aggressively pursued the role, determined to escape her image as a perpetual victim.
Her audition was so effective that she reportedly won the part within an hour.
The character arrived wearing white clothes and an innocent smile. Beneath that polished exterior lived a calculating survivor who understood money, power and desire better than almost anyone around her.
Abby Cunningham did not wait to be rescued.
She took what she wanted.
For nine seasons on Knots Landing, the character seduced husbands, built business empires and manipulated rivals without losing her composure. Her eye makeup became famous, her wardrobe inspired viewers and her schemes made her one of television’s defining villains.
The performance earned three Soap Opera Digest Awards for Outstanding Villainess. It also produced a level of fame that became almost impossible to escape. Celebrity tour buses reportedly searched for her in Beverly Hills, causing her to avoid the area whenever possible.
Then admiration turned terrifying.
During the height of her television fame, an escaped prisoner became obsessed with her and apparently attempted to find her. Authorities warned that he might be heading in her direction, forcing the actress to leave town and hide under an assumed name.
The man had allegedly taken a photograph with her and tried to sell a fabricated story claiming that he was her boyfriend. The tabloid contacted her representatives before publishing it and discovered the truth.
About a week after she entered hiding, the fugitive was found and killed.
It was a chilling echo of the obsessive danger she had faced in Play Misty for Me. Only this time there was no script, director or camera waiting to call “cut.”
Yet her most consequential decision had nothing to do with villains or fame.
For years, she had concentrated almost entirely on her career. She never married, although she had long-term relationships, including one with advertising executive and producer Richard Holland.
Eventually, professional success no longer felt complete.
At 54, she adopted a newborn daughter named Chloe. She later described becoming a mother as the greatest moment of her life. Rather than employing others to raise the child while she remained on a set, she stepped away from acting for much of the next 18 years.
Hollywood moved on, but she did not regret the sacrifice.
When she returned, some younger casting professionals barely knew the woman who had once dominated prime-time television. She effectively had to introduce herself again.
Her talent soon reminded them.
She portrayed Madeline Reeves on General Hospital and won a Daytime Emmy. She appeared in David O. Russell’s Joy, Jordan Peele’s mysterious science-fiction thriller Nope and Ava DuVernay’s Origin. She later reunited with several fellow television icons for Ladies of the ’80s: A Divas Christmas.
Away from the screen, she created another unexpected life.
With longtime partner Larry Gilman, she transformed part of her Brentwood property into a working vineyard. Hundreds of bottles were produced annually, turning the glamorous television villain into something she once jokingly described as a farmer.
Her refusal to fade quietly has continued into her 80s. In 2026, at 85, she even joined OnlyFans—not to post explicit material, but to communicate directly with admirers and share glimpses of her home, routines and personality.
It was another decision made entirely on her own terms.
The tomboy who dreamed of ballet, escaped Hollywood’s victim roles, became television’s most elegant villain, hid from an obsessed fugitive and abandoned fame to raise her daughter is Donna Mills.
