Yungblud: “My life today feels like a bloody blessing, to be honest… but growing up? That was a different story. I was raised in Doncaster, a small town in the UK where everyone knows everyone’s business. It was a place where expectations were always high—whether you wanted them or not. I can still remember waking up on those freezing mornings, before the sun was even up, just to work on my music, to write. Most kids were still tucked up in bed, dreaming of cartoons or football, but I had this fire in me, a need to create. I wasn’t like everyone else, and that never sat right with me.
Back then, it was a struggle to even make ends meet. My family didn’t have a lot of money, but they had love, and that was enough. I spent most of my time at home with my mum, who always worked so hard to keep the house together. I’d be in the kitchen, watching her make whatever we could afford, even if it was just beans on toast. I’d sneak chocolate from the cupboard and laugh because that little moment of rebellion was all I had. There was no luxury, but there was this relentless desire to chase something bigger. Something that was outside Doncaster’s walls, outside the confines of what people expected from me.
The music? It wasn’t always easy. I wasn’t handed a record deal, or a stage to play on. I had to fight for every single opportunity. I remember playing small pubs and getting laughed off stage. The people didn’t get me, didn’t understand the chaos that I had inside. And yet, I kept going. I was driven by something deeper. Every setback made me stronger. The first time I played in front of a crowd and had them singing my songs back to me? That was the moment everything clicked. It wasn’t just about the music; it was about connecting, about sharing the fight, the struggle, and the passion that I had.
There were so many sacrifices along the way. I missed birthdays, I missed nights out with friends. I didn’t have time for any of it. It was always about the next show, the next song, the next opportunity. Some days, I’d look around at my friends and feel like I was losing touch with everything normal. But I knew deep down that if I wanted this, if I wanted to live the dream I had inside my chest, I had to work my arse off for it. It was hard, it was lonely, but it was real.
I started to understand that nothing worth having ever comes easy. I’d walk through the streets of Donny, imagining the day when I’d make it, imagining the crowds, the music, the life. And slowly, everything began to happen. One gig at a time. One song at a time. And eventually, the world took notice.
Now, when I look back, I see all those moments of struggle, of doubt, of late nights writing in my bedroom or playing for five people in some dive bar—they all led me here. They shaped me into who I am today. And I wouldn’t change a thing. Those tough days taught me resilience, they taught me that failure wasn’t the end, but the beginning of something new. They taught me that this dream, the one that felt so far away in the beginning, was worth every single battle. And now, I get to live it. I get to be me, on stage, in front of thousands of fans who get it. If my story can inspire anyone to keep going, to fight for their own dream, then that’s what it’s all been about.”