NEVER MEET YOUR IDOLS (90% OF THE TIME)
Not long ago, someone in the music world told me, «Never meet your idols; you’ll most likely be disappointed.» And they were right. I never thought I’d be writing this, but here we are, I suppose.
How did I get to this point, where once I lived and breathed for musicians? How can I not care about knowing more about them anymore? How could they be like this? Is it the money? The fame? Were they always like this, and I just didn’t see it? Have I stopped loving music, or is it just the environment that’s overwhelming me? I used to live and die for recognition in the music world; I wanted to be seen. I would watch the same concert over and over, wishing every cell in my body could absorb the experience, longing to know what it was like backstage, the creative process, the inspiration behind the music… And worse still, how could I have spent my life idolizing people who didn’t deserve it? You may be asking yourself all these questions, just as I’ve asked (and continue to ask) myself.
The short answer is, honestly, I have no idea what to tell you. The longer answer is much more complex, and I’ll try to shed some light on it.
I think us girls have spent our lives idolizing these men and giving them absolutely everything: we’ve elevated them, taken them to the top, opened our hearts, believed those songs were about someone like us. And when we’ve had the privilege—or curse, depending on how you look at it—to interact with them personally, we’ve often faced a harsh reality because imagination is almost always kinder than reality. To our misfortune, one might be a predator, another an abuser, yet another convinced he’s the next Rolling Stone. One is sleazy, another is just plain awful… And then there’s the one who embodies all of these traits.
I’ve thought long and hard about all this, and I believe it boils down to several factors. First, we’ve always been the minority in the rock and metal scenes, so we’re often seen by musicians as pretty faces, as mere commodities. If someone claims that’s not the case, I suggest they read The Dirt by Mötley Crüe; I promise you won’t get ten pages in before you encounter questionable behavior toward women. Some might say I can’t judge Nikki Sixx’s behavior in the ’80s by today’s social standards. True, but that doesn’t mean I can’t criticize it or recognize that some people exhibited highly questionable, if not outright deplorable, behavior. And after being in the music world myself, I feel as if I’ve left Plato’s Cave, like sunlight has burned my eyes. You can return to the cave, but you’ll never be the same person.
The second factor is the way we’ve idealized these so-called «rock stars.» In most cases, we’ve built them up in our minds, and—spoiler alert—nothing is as beautiful as it seems. They’re just as flawed as anyone else, with their own mental health issues, health problems, and addictions (and I could probably do a whole podcast just on that). We believed everything in the magazines, music videos, and kept idealizing people who, let’s be honest, wouldn’t have achieved half of what they have today without us. The third factor: the industry itself is designed to sell them this way—untouchable stars who you can only dream of, maybe someday, meeting if you’re incredibly lucky. They’re supposed to behave like that, right? All that sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, always surrounded by opulence, decadence, and scandal because that’s the way it’s «supposed» to be.
I don’t expect men, musicians, or male musicians to understand any of this. They live in another dimension; they’ve usually held the power in this industry, and it’s always been structured this way. But I’m not writing this for them; I’m writing this for women, for my girls. For the women out there, my age, who have woken up to this reality, and especially for the younger girls who might read this one day or stumble upon it by chance. All I can tell them is that idealization is part of growing up, and eventually, it fades.
What I really want to say to them, though, is that I hope they can keep living in that fantasy as long as possible. Because when that bubble bursts, when the lights go out, the instruments fall silent, the handsome guy from the band leaves the stage, the guitarist you’re in love with stops playing, and the background noise dies down, they’ll realize it wasn’t as beautiful as it seemed, and they’ll have to face a harsh reality. When that day comes, I hope they find the strength to do so.
Not all hope is lost, though; we’ll always have each other: the girls. We’ll always have a Joan Jett, a Patti Smith, a Blondie, Bikini Kill, Girlschool, the Riot Grrrl movement, a Pat Benatar, a Beth Hart, and so many others to reach out to us, as we should have always done for each other.
