I’ve been asked the same questions for decades. Do you regret not having kids? What will your legacy be without a family of your own? Don’t you feel like something’s missing?
Let me answer all of that right now, and I hope this gets through to anyone who’s ever felt like their life had to follow someone else’s blueprint to be valid.
No, I don’t regret it. No, I don’t feel incomplete. No, I don’t think I owe the world a child just to prove I existed. That’s never been what life was about for me. What I’ve built, what I’ve survived, and who I’ve become—that is my legacy. And I am damn proud of it.
I’ve got my husband, who I love deeply. He is my family. He’s been by my side through the storm and the calm, through the madness of the road and the quiet of our home. He’s the one who holds my truth when the world tries to rewrite it. The kind of bond we have isn’t for public approval. It’s not for show. It’s real, it’s private, and it’s powerful.
When I came out publicly in 1998, I didn’t do it for headlines. I did it because I was tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and tired of letting fear dictate my life. That moment wasn’t just for me. It was for every metalhead, every gay kid, every person who thought they had to choose between being who they are and doing what they love. You don’t. You can be both. You can have both. I am both.
And let me tell you something else. People will always have something to say. Especially when you defy their expectations. When you’re a gay man in heavy metal, when you don’t conform, when you don’t marry a woman, have kids, buy the house with the white picket fence. They’ll try to put your life into a box that makes them comfortable. But I’ve never lived in anyone else’s box. I built my own stage and I screamed from it.
Some people think having a child is the only way to leave something behind. I disagree. I’ve got decades of music that will live longer than I will. I’ve got fans across the world who tell me my songs got them through their darkest days. I’ve got a voice that has roared through generations. That’s my imprint. And honestly, it’s enough.
It doesn’t mean I don’t respect people who choose parenthood. It’s a beautiful, powerful path. But it’s not the only one. And just because I didn’t take it doesn’t mean I lost something. I gained something else. I gained peace. I gained authenticity. I gained a life that is truly mine.
You know what makes life meaningful? Truth. Living it. Owning it. Not apologizing for it. I don’t wake up in the morning wondering if the world approves of my choices. I wake up grateful for the man next to me, the music in my head, and the fact that I get to be completely and unapologetically Rob Halford.
There are people out there who still can’t stand that I’m gay, who think it clashes with the image of a heavy metal frontman. Let them. That’s their ignorance to carry. It’s not mine. I’ve never needed anyone’s permission to exist.
So if you’re listening to this or reading it and you’ve ever felt like you weren’t enough because you didn’t fit the mold, I’m telling you now—you are more than enough. You are not broken. You are not behind. You are not unfinished. You are exactly who you need to be. And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for the life you live.
I’ve walked through fire to become the man I am. I didn’t do it for applause. I did it to be free. And freedom, once you taste it, is something you never give back.
Let the world talk. I’ll keep living.