Life Of My Own

Hero worship and toxic masculinity are more prevalent than ever in today’s world. But who are adolescent and young adult men truly looking up to? As a 35-year-old man, I don’t have heroes or idols in the traditional sense, while there are individuals I deeply admire. Looking back on my youth, I realise that the few public figures who shaped my perspective remain the same today. Trying to go back to my 15-year-old self, whom he looked to for guidance on becoming a man and navigating the world in 2005, I imagine his answer wouldn’t be too different today. Like many young men, I didn’t have a positive male role model in my immediate family, so I turned to outside influences—mainly the culture and music I consumed.

In many ways, not much has changed. I’m still obsessed with bands and football, and my taste in music has remained remarkably consistent. The same artists in heavy rotation for 15-year-old Tadhg still make regular appearances today—though I’m a little less angsty and naïve. These days, Rancid, The Clash, and Alice In Chains don’t dominate my playlists, and I no longer consider studded leather jackets the pinnacle of cool.

Lately, I’ve developed a bit of an obsession with country music. I have no idea where that came from—though if I had to point fingers, I’d blame the silky-smooth tones of Tyler Childers or Jelly Roll. That said, the most consistent positive male role model in my life has been John Joseph of the Cro-Mags. Growing up immersed in punk rock, I knew about the Cro-Mags early on—their reputation in the global punk scene was legendary. Though technically a hardcore band, their album Age of Quarrel is widely regarded as the definitive crossover record. As a teenager, my mentality toward music was simple: If it ain’t punk, I don’t fucking like it. Punk was, and still is, my special interest. I must confess, though— To begin with, I pretended to like the Cro-Mags, but I didn’t get it. The lyrics, the message, the sound and the breakdowns—it all went over my head. There was no obvious “Fuck the government’ or “Anarchy in the UK” message to latch onto. The music had a deeper, more nuanced meaning, and I wasn’t ready for that yet. Tracks like We Gotta Know and Seekers of the Truth were slightly beyond my grasp at 15. As I stumbled through my turbulent 20s, like so many others, I found myself searching for meaning, for identity. My journey into animal rights and veganism led me back to the Cro-Mags. John Joseph was one of the loudest voices in the punk world advocating for animal rights. I devoured every interview I could find—he spoke about veganism, spirituality, sobriety, and endurance sports as a means of recovery from addiction. Somewhere in my early 20s, I don’t remember exactly when I went back to the Cro-Mags. Listening to them again was like a horse having its blinders ripped off after a race. My vision expanded—360 degrees. I could see all around me. The lyrics and music hit me like an electric charge, pulsing through my veins.

John Joseph and his message resonated with young Tadhg just as much as he does with the 35-year-old version. Out of all the noise and confusion in this world, his voice was the one that cut through. And thank God for that. Like every other 15-year-old boy, I looked up to rock stars, sports stars, and cultural icons—but I couldn’t relate to them. Sure, the world is full of inspiring stories—unbelievable tales of hardship, struggle, and ultimate success against all odds. But none of them hit me the way John Joseph did.

In summary, this is how I see it: in 2025, it’s more important than ever to be mindful of what you consume and who you listen to—especially for young men. Figures like Conor McGregor, Jake Paul, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Andrew Tate are worshipped by millions. What do they all have in common? They’re relatively young men, incredibly wealthy and powerful. They have perfect *Instagrammable* lives—millions of followers, fast cars, mansions, perfect physiques, luxury yachts, private jets. It’s sold to us that every woman wants them, and every man wants to be them.

But in reality? None of it means a thing. It’s a shallow, tragic existence—yet these ego maniacs are put on a pedestal as if they’re superhuman, alpha males to be worshipped and respected. John Joseph made me rethink my choices. Maybe I should pick up a book instead of picking up the Xbox controller. Instead of bingeing Netflix series, I could journal my thoughts and feelings. Instead of poisoning myself at the pub, I could hit the gym and work on myself. Or run, cycle, swim, walk in nature—spend time with the people I love.

I respect all life. I truly believe animals have just as much right to live peaceful, fulfilling lives—free from suffering, violence, and slaughter—as humans do. JJ didn’t just shape those beliefs in me; he reinforced them.

We can all do better. We can all Be better.