Pat Benatar did not follow others’ scripts. She trusted her instincts, protected her creative identity, and built a career on her terms. Rather than bending to the expectations of the music industry, she relied on talent, discipline, and an unswerving belief in the artist she wanted to become. She arrived on the rock scene at a time when men shaped the recording industry, yet she remained steadfast in her image and musical vision. Her choices were never about defying convention for its own sake; they were reflections of an artist who understood herself. In this distinctive feature, VENÜ explores the woman behind the music—her values, activism, devotion to family, commitment to philanthropy, and the principles which have guided her life on and off the stage. This is the trajectory of an artist who built an extraordinary career without compromising herself and whose body of work endured to legendary heights beyond the spotlight.
VENÜ: How did your early experiences shape your determination to pursue music and your sense of identity as both an artist and a woman navigating the industry always with the poise and grace that became your hallmark?
PAT BENATAR: I had a lot of practice. I grew up in Lindenhurst, New York, on Long Island’s South Shore. I came from a working-class family in a young suburban neighborhood full of children playing in the street. There were a few girls, but mostly boys, and they were having fun. I wanted to be part of that. I was a tiny girl, but “fierce in my determination.”
My mother had to go to work to help because my mother’s father passed away when he was 43 years old. And her mother, who was a housewife, and her brother and sister, who were still in high school, came to live with us in our Cape Cod house.
My father was a laborer, and his salary was not enough to support our growing household. My grandmother cared for us. In her absence, I felt compelled to become the lady of the house.
"Between the responsibilities waiting for me at home and the freedom waiting for me outside, it was the perfect storm for independence and fearlessness."
VENÜ: How did growing up in New York’s culture and in your neighborhood shape your outlook on life and ultimately lead you to pursue a career in music?
PB: Growing up just fifty-two miles from Manhattan, New York City was always part of my life. We had family that lived in Brooklyn, and often traveled into the city. Music was the fabric woven into our home, too. My mother had sung with the New York City Opera before I was born, retiring in her twenties. I began singing around age three, and there was a strong instinctive pull toward music as well.
At home, classical music and opera were always playing. Outside, I was a tomboy, spending my days playing baseball, kick the can, and playing with the neighborhood boys. The blend of artistic discipline and carefree adventure gave me the best of both worlds.
VENÜ: You cited seeing Liza Minnelli perform in concert as a defining moment. What did you see in her performance that awakened something in you?
PB: My fabulous friends I met while I was singing in Virginia invited me to see her perform. Before the concert, I stood inside the empty coliseum, taking in the sheer size of it. When Liza Minnelli walked onto that stage and commanded the entire room, something shifted inside me. I remember thinking, Wait a second... “I could do this. I could absolutely do this.”
VENÜ: How do you view your role in inspiring other women to find their voices?
PB: This is what people often ask artists like Ann Wilson and me about. When you are at the beginning of building your career, you do not focus on the bigger picture. Your focus is on getting the job done and the pitfalls that come to you every single day. You are not thinking of the collective; rather, you are thinking, “How am I going to get through this?”
It is later that you begin to recognize the ripple effect. I was just a cog in the wheel of something much larger—the collective movement of where the direction of the country was going, where women were headed toward social and financial equality, and where people’s feelings and aspirations were evolving.
"One of the things I am profoundly grateful for is that I’ve always been a common person. Whatever their feelings, I’m feeling, which always served me well."
Along the way, I noticed there were others who felt the same way, and together we became part of something bigger than ourselves.
The young women I see today in their twenties are part of what I would call the third wave. The women before us—people like Gloria Steinem and others—were the first wave. We were the second wave. I was only 14 when the women’s movement was happening, but everything about it reflected what I was already feeling and thinking. I gravitated to it with such vigor.
I was a newbie. I didn’t fully understand how to articulate what I was feeling, but I knew I was feeling it. Having those women who came before us explain, define, and give voice to our position and shape our identity in the world was incredibly important. I think all of us who came after them owe a tremendous debt of gratitude.
VENÜ: You were honored with the 2025 ASCAP Harry Chapin Humanitarian Award in recognition of your support for the global nonprofit WhyHunger and your commitment to social justice at the 50th-anniversary Awards Gala. What did that recognition mean to you personally?
PB: Neil and I do not publicize what we do.
We have our own foundation that anonymously subsidizes other organizations. Harry and I were friends when I was noticeably young, even before I met Spyder. I met Harry, his wife, and their children in a bar on Long Island. It was during the day, and we were setting up for soundcheck. He walked in, and you could feel his presence the moment he entered the room. He asked me, “What are you doing here?” I told him I was performing that night, and he said, “I’m coming back. I want to see what you’re doing.”
He came back, and not long after, he was putting on a musical called The Zinger at the Park Playhouse in Huntington, NY. He asked me to join the cast, and I said, “Okay, sure.” Christine Lahti and Ben Vereen were in it. It lasted about a minute, but it was a wonderful experience being a part of the production and getting to know Harry.
I became involved with the activism that Harry and his family were doing, and as time went on, Spyder and I became even more involved. For us, there is no such thing as not having justice. World Hunger, child hunger, and human rights are the causes we consistently work on behind the scenes. We do what needs to be done.
VENÜ: Your daughters and grandchildren know you and Neil not only as musicians, but as storytellers and role models, something you beautifully celebrated in My Grandma and Grandpa Rock! How has being a parent and grandparent shaped the stories you want to tell and the values you hope to pass along?
PB: It is the same as the slogan for the Peace Corps: “the toughest job you’ll ever love.” This is what being a parent is about. It is challenging, but well worth the reward.
“Do everyone’s grandparents go on stage?”
We have two daughters, and it’s been such a wild ride. Navigating motherhood while building a career taught me to keep my priorities straight. My family always came first, and my career second.
One of the interesting things about living through all these contrasting times for women is the idea that you can have it all. I am just not sure if you can have it all at once. For me, I had to take turns. Sometimes it’s the family, sometimes it’s the show, but the minute the show is over, it’s the family again.
Then you have grandchildren. This is what you get for navigating the other part, the greatest joy you will ever feel. We are a girl family—we call it the Estrogen Express. We have two granddaughters, and now we finally have a grandson. Having a little dude in the family brings a different dynamic into the equation.
What I love most is getting another chance to watch young women grow up. My granddaughters are already so fierce. In the past, young women were regulated by rules that don’t apply at all today.
Our oldest granddaughter, who is now eight, was about four at the time. She is very precocious—eight going on forty-five, incredibly wise and observant. She would ask us, “Do everyone’s grandparents go on stage?” I would say, “No, honey, I don’t think so. This is just what we do. We’re musicians and songwriters.”
This opened the door to explaining that grandparents are unique in their own way and have all kinds of different jobs. They may not look like us or do what we do, but they are still cool because they are grandparents. They rock. My grandchildren’s curiosity piqued our interest and inspired the book.
VENÜ: With the remastered vinyl releases of In the Heat of the Night, Crimes of Passion and Precious Time, what has it been like to see your legacy reach new generations of listeners?
PB: It is so much a part of who you are that it does not really stick out. There is not a day that goes by when I am not writing lyrics. I will even pull the car over because something just came to me.
It’s like breathing. Until you have a cold, you do not really pay attention to your nose; it’s just there doing what it is supposed to do. This is what music is for us. It is the essence of who we are.
VENÜ: Let's talk about your eco-conscious initiatives.
PB: Everyone hates me for this. Environmental consciousness has always been a natural part of who I am. “Some parts of me are still an intense hippie.” I compost, reuse, and admittedly, never stop calling people out when things do not make sense. “Why are you making me use a paper straw when you are still pushing Styrofoam?”
I have become a bit of a family joke, especially with my children. My daughter says, “Mom, you’re killing me right now. You washed the can out?” I make her crazy.
"World Hunger, child hunger, and human rights are the causes we consistently work on behind the scenes. We do what needs to be done."
Behind the humor resides a genuine commitment to live a life of humility and intention. For Pat, music was never a mere form of art. It was, and still is, the language she uses to interpret both her inner world and the world around her. The stage introduced the globe to Pat Benatar, but it is the depth of who she is—the artist, the mother, the advocate, and the storyteller that continues to leave her indelible mark on the world.
Pat’s momentous vocals will forever ensure that Rock & Roll will never die; it’s the volume of her conviction that refuses to fade.
www.benatargiraldo.com

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