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The Ending of My Parasocial Relationship With Dave Grohl
It’s over. A post-mortem look at how we got here.
I’ve decided to break up with Dave Grohl, after a 13-year parasocial relationship with him.
Grohl’s “good family guy” image has been shattered by his admission of fathering a child outside his marriage (aka cheating on his wife), and caused many to rethink their parasocial relationships.
It certainly has for me.
Most people have some type of parasocial relationship with sports figures, celebrities, politicians, spiritual leaders; and yes, musicians.
Looking back, I have idolized musicians for as long as I can remember. Like, literally since I was eight years old.
What was it about Grohl that enticed me to form such a strong emotional bond?
According to Tech and Science Dictionary, a “parasocial relationship refers to a relationship that a person imagines having with another person whom they do not actually know, such as a celebrity or a fictional character.
This often involves a person feeling as though they have a close, intimate connection with someone whom they have never met due to closely following that person (or character) in media, such as TV shows, videos, podcasts, etc.
For example, a child may feel as though they are friends with a fictional character due to frequently watching the character on a show, or a fan may feel as though they have a relationship with a pop star due to their emotional investment in the star’s career and life.”
Holy crap, that was me.
I was SO invested in Grohl’s life. I did closely followed him. I watched every interview, documentary, series, etc. But why? When did it start?
The birth of a parasocial relationship bond
Looking back, my obsession with music/musicians began way before Grohl, when I was around age eight or nine.
Like many of my fellow GenXers, I was raised on hose water and neglect. My parents were absent either physically, emotionally, or both. I was also raised in the pacific northwest, it was often a lonely, depressing, boring, rainy existence.
I survived this loneliness and lack of connection by bonding with music. It was a lifeline. To escape the chaos in my home, I would hide in my room, build a fort of blankets (my safe space), and listen to records on my cheap orange and white record player. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. KISS Alive II. Heart Little Queen. I would fantasize about talking to the musicians. Dream about being friends with them. Being seen.
Throughout this era, rock stars were seen as literal gods. We were just mere mortals. We were ‘less than’ them. The only connection we had was by listening to them on the radio, buying a record and looking at photos of them on a record sleeve, reading an infrequent article about them in a magazine, and/or trying to decipher and find meaning in the lyrics. That was it. We were left to our imagination of what they must really be like in person. Certainly they are perfect — look how talented and successful they are.
After the launch MTV, I was thrilled to have more visual exposure to music and artists. It was an explosion of music and culture during that time, and the birth of mass media. Music became my identity, my safety, and connection to myself. Unconsciously, the musicians I admired became my substitute parents.*
*Side note: another term for this is fantasy bond. Check out Dr. Robert Firestone’s work on fantasy and trauma bonds. It will blow your mind.
Music was a source of identity and connection for us in school. You were defined by the type of music you liked. Punk. Hair Metal. Rock. New Wave.
When Nirvana and Pearl Jam emerged in the 90s, not only did it change the landscape of music and culture, it was like the voice of our generation — we were finally being heard, seen, and recognized. Especially being from the northwest.
However, when Kurt Cobain died, it was a major loss and turning point for GenX. It was the death of a movement. It was the loss of hope. Once again, I retreated to my room.
Bonding with Grohl
My parasocial relationship with music legends continued as an adult into the 90s and early 2000’s.
Music was still a way I could retreat to my room and feel connected, but this time it was from my corporate day job life. I would ‘adult’ and parent all day, and then at night I would watch music documentaries over and over. For a solid year I was obsessed with “Amazing Journey: The Story of The Who,” and then the next year, “Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage.”
Once again, I identified with how the artists talked and felt about things. I felt most connected as myself when watching them. I would dream about working in the music industry and connecting with my favorite artists. In hindsight, I can see that I wasn’t happy with my career, and in some areas of my life. I didn’t realize that I was projecting — that I, too, am an artist.
My connection with Grohl began after watching the “Foo Fighters: Back and Forth” documentary in 2011. Before then I wasn’t much of a fan of the Foo Fighters’ music, nor Grohl.
But there was something about him in the documentary that I identified with. It was the way he spoke. It was his story. He was cool, and funny. I related to him. He was a GenXer like me, who came from a single mom household with little money, who had similar GenX experiences. And the shared generational trauma from the loss of Cobain and Nirvana (different levels of experience, obviously). He rose from the ashes of Nirvana, and it was inspiring.
The media attention on Grohl and Foo Fighters seemed to grow and grow, and as it did, so did my admiration and attachment. He was everywhere. Multiple interviews, album releases, concerts, playing in other bands, videos, more documentaries, interviews with his mom, promoting his mom’s book, SNL…the list goes on and on. Around this time his reputation as “the nicest guy in rock n’ roll” was cemented.
The kicker was when he appeared on Ellen in 2014 and talked about being a dad, driving the kids to school in the minivan, and taking the kids on tour. That’s when his reputation expanded from the “nicest guy in rock n’roll” to the “good family guy,” that stuck with me for 10 years.
Little did we know what else was going on behind the scenes. Now we hear that it was well known in the music industry that he was a cheater. But for fans, how would we know?
We only saw the borage of ‘good guy’ stories.
I bought into this image 100 percent. In addition to all the media exposure, I saw Foo Fighters perform live many times. Grohl was my hero. I never considered he wasn’t the nice family guy being portrayed. And I know I wasn’t alone.
At the time I didn’t realize it, but with the high level of exposure it was easy to become increasingly emotionally invested in him. It was easy to get hooked.
The Turning Point
When Taylor Hawkins died in 2022, it was devastating. I was so emotionally invested in Grohl and the Foo Fighters, that I grieved the loss of Hawkins and was genuinely worried about Grohl. I was obsessed with any tidbit of a Grohl sighting or story.
Shortly after the hearing the news of the passing of his mother, it seemed inconceivable that Grohl was coordinating the Taylor Hawkins Tribute Concerts in London and Los Angeles. I thought we wouldn’t see him for a few years; that he would be grieving and recovering from these losses.
It was even more inconceivable that he would play on nearly every song during the tributes, and move forward with a new album and tour soon after. I was worried about his well-being.
He must be superhuman.
So when I saw the Foo Fighters’ concert in October 2023, I was expecting an emotional, communal, uplifting yet moving performance similar to the tribute concerts. I thought that’s what the purpose of the tour was. As a fan, that’s what I wanted. That’s how I was feeling. I wanted a chance to grieve together.
But that’s not what happened.
Instead, it was an upbeat show, that to me, didn’t match what was really going on. This wasn’t a normal tour — it was the first without Hawkins — and Grohl seemed disconnected. He clearly wasn’t himself, yet he was singing upbeat, energetic songs. It didn’t feel right to me and I was really disappointed in the inauthenticity. I actually left early.
I wrote about the experience here:
That’s when I started to disengage from Grohl, and even all music for awhile. I was so disappointed and disillusioned in way. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now in hindsight, I knew on some level that was the beginning of the end for me. I just had no idea why, or what was coming.
During this time period I joined TikTok, which completely changed my perspective on celebrities and celebrity worship; and gave me new hope. I like the level playing field — that anyone on TikTok can be a creator — and there are some really creative, interesting, funny everyday regular people. Millions of them. Not gods. Not idols. Just regular people with a talent, telling it like it is.
It was refreshing and inspiring, and it totally changed my worldview. I started moving from the celebrity idolizing culture.
Will I still listen to Foo Fighters music?
The bombshell news of Grohl’s cheating has been an awakening of sorts.
It’s now clear that Grohl was leading a double life. He wasn’t the nice guy that was portrayed; the family guy that I thought he was. Aside from the longtime cheating and betrayal, I suspect that the only reason he came clean was because he got caught. I don’t look up to him anymore — I’m disappointed and disgusted.
I believe that when you form a parasocial relationship, it’s extremely difficult to separate the art from the artist because they are so intertwined. The music itself is personal — it becomes part of the fabric of your life.
I can’t listen to his music in the same way, and I don’t know that I ever will. Listening to it now reminds me of what a dirtbag he is, and how he lied to everyone.
I also like Arcade Fire’s music…a lot. But I still can’t bring myself to re-engage with the band’s music after the allegations against married, former good-guy-artist, Win Butler; and I had nowhere near the same level of parasocial relationship with them. (Again, I don’t think I’m alone…have you noticed they are touring primarily outside of the U.S.?)
I still have a few heroes (music and otherwise) and that’s okay. I think it’s good to have people that inspire us. It’s just not in the same way — I’m more cautious and less likely to place anyone on a pedestal.
And as far as Grohl, we’re done.
This article was originally published on Substack.
If you like this article and would like to read about my initial reactions to the news, check this out:
