Paris Jackson says she feels dad Michael Jackson “with me all the time”

Paris Jackson has been a superstar her entire life despite being only 24 years old and the second child of the iconic musician Michael Jackson.

Paris has experienced several difficulties since the death of her father. But, the gifted young lady is currently pursuing her own singing career.

Despite the ups and downs in her life, she has now made the decision to talk about her upbringing with her father, known as the “King of Pop.” Few, if any, individuals are unaware of Michael Jackson’s existence.

Michael Jackson – “King of Pop”

You know, you’re not referred to as “The King of Pop” for nothing, do you? Even while we like the late singer’s music, his life wasn’t always easy.

Michael had domestic issues from the beginning, when he performed with his siblings in the Jackson Five, which were made worse by a strict father who was quick to discipline his children if they disobeyed.

Michael Jackson may be considered a product, someone who was created from an early age to be an entertainer and vocalist. That won’t change the fact that his music, dance, and songwriting are all absolute masterpieces.

When Michael Jackson passed away in 2009, the whole world mourned the singer. He had been chased by paparazzis’ and tabloid newspapers for pretty much his entire life, but not even when he was laid to rest for the last time was he spared.

Paris Jackson – Michael’s daughter

Several media helicopters followed the helicopters delivering his body from the hospital in Los Angeles. News about Michael Jackson and his family is still reported on all around the world today.

Nowadays, his family members receive the majority of the attention. His kids in particular have come under attack since the Jackson family is a popular target for paparazzi.

Paris Jackson, the second child of Jackson, has grown up in the public eye. She is now making every effort to distinguish herself from Michael Jackson’s child and become her own person.

She has been suffering from mental illness for a number of years, yet she is actually doing extremely well.

Paris Jackson – early life

On April 3, 1998, in California, Paris Jackson was born. She is Michael Jackson’s only daughter and his second kid.

She and her brother were both homeschooled up until the sixth grade, which made her early years quite private. The kids were carefully protected from the public because Michael Jackson was keen on allowing them to maintain their seclusion. The children in Michael’s family were either wearing costumes or having their heads wrapped in scarves to conceal their faces in early photographs.

As a result, life on the Neverland Ranch was extremely constrained for Paris and her siblings. No one can deny that they were immensely wealthy, but it must have also been difficult.

Speaking with supermodel Naomi Campbell, Paris Jackson opened up about her father, and what her upbringing was like.

She said that Michael Jackson made sure that they were “cultured”.

“My dad was really good about making sure we were cultured, making sure we were educated, and not just showing us like the glitz and glam, like hotel hopping, five-star places,” Paris said.

“It was also like, we saw everything. We saw third world countries. We saw every part of the spectrum.”

Speaks out on her childhood

Paris Jackson lived all over the world during her childhood days, as her father toured across the globe to play in front of hundreds of thousands of people.

She claims to have been quite appreciative of her “rich” upbringing. Paris also discovered early on that she should not feel entitled. Her father made sure that the kids understood the idea of working hard to attain what they want.

“Even growing up it was about earning stuff,” Paris said. “If we wanted five toys from FAO Schwarz or Toys ‘R’ Us, we had to read five books.

“It’s earning it, not just being entitled to certain things or thinking ‘oh I got this’,” she added. “It’s like working for it, working hard for it, it’s something else entirely, it’s an accomplishment.”

Paris was only 11 years old when her father passed away

Tragic passing of Michael Jackson

On June 25, 2009, “The King of Pop” experienced a heart arrest at home and soon after being taken to a neighboring hospital, he passed suddenly. According to Michael Jackson’s will, Paris and her brothers were placed in Katherine Jackson’s legal custody.

Paris, then 11 years old, spoke briefly about her father in front of the entire world during the funeral service that was broadcast on television.

“Ever since I was born, daddy has been the best father you could ever imagine,” she said. “And I just wanted to say I love him so much.”

Paris and her brothers, Prince Michael, 12, and Prince Michael II, 7, were all in attendance during the televised memorial service. In fact, that was pretty much the first time the world caught more than just a glimpse of Jackson’s children.

Then, in January 2010, they were once again were seen in public while accepting a posthumous Lifetime Achievement Award for their father at the 2010 Grammy

Paris Jackson – life after Neverland

In November the same year, Paris appeared on the Oprah Winfrey Show to speak about her father, saying that he was amazing.

“I kind of felt like no one understood what a good father he was, he was the best cook ever,” she told Winfrey. “He was just a normal dad.”

“He made the best French toast in the world,” Paris added.

When Michael Jackson passed away, Paris Jackson moved into a mansion in Calabasas, California, with her grandmother Katherine Jackson, as well as other members of her family.

When she turned 19, she decided to move into Michael Jackson’s private studio at the family compound, which she transformed into a dorm-style bedroom.

Losing your father is hard as it is. But for Paris, it was much more than that. All of a sudden, she was expected to carry on her father’s legacy.

“I tried to grow up too fast”

Upon starting seventh grade, Paris decided to attend a private school. At this point, the only ones accepting her for who she was were the older kids, and it didn’t turn out perfect.

“I was doing a lot of things that 13-, 14-, 15-year-olds shouldn’t do. I tried to grow up too fast, and I wasn’t really that nice of a person,” she tells us.

Around the same time, social media had become a thing, and Paris faced cyberbullying.

“The whole freedom-of-speech thing is great,” she explained. “But I don’t think that our Founding Fathers predicted social media when they created all of these amendments and stuff.”

Paris went through a lot of trauma as a teenager. She even tried taking her own life following a very serious incident, but that was also somewhat of a turning point.

She spent her sophomore year, as well as half her junior year, at a therapeutic school in Utah, which was great for her.

“I’m a completely different person,” she said. “I was crazy. I was actually crazy, I was going through a lot of, like, teen angst. And I was also dealing with my depression and my anxiety without any help.”

Paris Jackson – career

Paris graduated high school in 2015 – one year early – but by this point, she had a lot on her mind. She was one of the heirs of Michel Jackson’s billion-dollar heritage, and everyone saw her as a celebrity, even though she actually hadn’t done anything.

Now, though, Jackson is heading in the same direction as her father: the entertainment business. She’s taken her father’s advice seriously: if you want something, you have to put in work to get it. During the Naomi Campbell interview, Paris stated that she was a “full believer” that she should earn her own success.

For someone born into ridiculous wealth, as the child of one of the most famous people in modern history, this is something we truly adore Paris for. No matter what has happened in her past or who her father is, she wants to do her own thing.

She grew up around only adults except for her siblings. When she left Neverland to go to a real school, it was a big change for her. She grew up as the child of Michael Jackson, but for her, the world was more than that. And in the beginning, it sure was hard.

“Once I got introduced into the real world, I was shocked. It blew me away,” Paris explained. “Not just because it was sexist, but misogynist and racist and cruel. It was scary as hell. And it still is really scary.”

Modeling and music

So what did Paris do? Well, she went her own way, starting out working as a model. And she has a real talent for it!

In recent years, she’s been on the covers of some of the world’s most influential magazines, including Rolling Stone, Vogue and Narcisse to name a few.

For Paris, modeling is a very therapeutic and natural thing. Many were shocked when her father transformed via his many plastic surgeries. But in this age of social media and cyberbullying, Paris understands his choice.

“I’ve had self-esteem issues for a really, really long time,” she said. “Plenty of people think I’m ugly, and plenty of people don’t. But there’s a moment when I’m modeling where I forget about my self-esteem issues and focus on what the photographer’s telling me – and I feel pretty. And in that sense, it’s selfish.”

Through her Instagram page, Paris’s followers can see her life as she seems to like spending time with her friends, doing all the things in life she couldn’t really experience at a younger age.

Released her first album

She released her debut album Wilted in 2020, following in her father’s musical footsteps. Paris Jackson is doing music, but her CD is indie folk rather than the R&B and pop style for which her father was famous.

“It’s mainly just a story of heartbreak and love, in general, and the thoughts and feelings that come after it doesn’t work out,” she remarked.

Paris Jackson grew up with her father’s music, and she says she knows all the words to his songs. At the same time as she created her own sound, it’s inevitable that Michael Jackson’s taste in music influenced her.

“He loved classical music and jazz and Hip Hop and R&B and obviously the Motown stuff,” she says.

Paris Jackson has paid tribute to her father on her body, acquiring more than 50 tattoos. Nine of them are devoted to Michael Jackson.

She has learned to cope with the devastating loss of her father rather than believing that time will make everything better.

She remembers Michael Jackson visiting her in her dreams, so she knows he will always be there with her.

“I live life with the mentality of ‘OK, I lost the only thing that has ever been important to me.’” she mentioned. “So going forward, anything bad that happens can’t be nearly as bad as what happened before. So I can handle it.

“I feel him with me all the time.”

People who have experienced parental loss may undoubtedly relate to Paris and the pain she is going through. Nobody, however, has had the same level of experience growing up as Paris Jackson had.

We’re ecstatic that she may now go about her business without being followed everywhere she goes by paparazzi. Paris, good luck!

Please, share this article with friends and family if you also think Paris Jackson is a brave woman!

My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due to ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided to Surprise Her, I Discovered the Gory Truth She Was Hiding

For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.

The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”

But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.

I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.

An intersection | Source: Pexels

An intersection | Source: Pexels

Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”

I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.

“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.

Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.

The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.

A chill ran down my spine.

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”

That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.

My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.

“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Mom? What… what happened to you?”

She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.

“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.

“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”

“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”

“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”

We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.

Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”

I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.

We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”

“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.

Close up of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.

I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.

Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.

Here’s another story: My name is Larissa, and I’m just a regular woman trying to keep up with the demands of life. Between work and everything else, I sometimes forget to slow down and focus on what really matters. But nothing could have prepared me for the day I returned to my childhood home, only to find it reduced to rubble and my mother missing.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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