In her memoir, released after her death, Lisa Marie Presley says that when she and her second husband, Michael Jackson, started their relationship, he was a virgin. Michael Jackson, known as the “King of Pop,” passed away from a heart attack in 2009 at the age of 50, just weeks before his final tour was set to begin.
Michael Jackson married singer Lisa Marie Presley in 1994, but they divorced two years later. Presley passed away in January 2023 at the age of 54 due to complications from weight loss surgery. The two first met in 1975 when Lisa was just seven years old at a Jackson Five concert in Las Vegas, where her father, Elvis Presley, was also performing.
Their romance didn’t start until about 20 years later, when Lisa Marie was 26 and Michael was 35. They got married shortly after Lisa divorced her first husband, Danny Keough, with whom she had two children.
In her book From Here to the Great Unknown, released on October 8 and finished by her daughter Riley Keough, Lisa Marie Presley shared that Michael Jackson told her he was still a virgin when they got together. He mentioned that he had only kissed Tatum O’Neal and had a non-physical relationship with Brooke Shields. He also said Madonna once tried to hook up with him, but nothing happened. Lisa Marie admitted she was nervous about doing something wrong.
She added that when Michael decided to kiss her for the first time, he took the lead in everything. The physical side of their relationship started quickly, which surprised her because she thought they might wait until marriage. But Michael told her, “I’m not waiting!”
In her memoir, Lisa Marie Presley wrote about how their relationship grew. Michael Jackson told her, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m completely in love with you. I want us to get married and for you to have my children.”
At first, she didn’t know what to say, so she replied, “I’m really flattered, I can’t even talk.” She added that by that time, she had fallen in love with him too.
Macmillan
TO MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND — THANK YOU!
The room buzzed with a gentle warmth, a symphony of soft chatter and the clinking of glasses. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the silver strands in her hair as she stood, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “To my wonderful husband,” she began, her voice a little shaky, a little breathless, but filled with an undeniable love.
Fifty-five years. Fifty-five years of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and weathered storms. Fifty-five years of building a life, brick by brick, with the man standing beside her, his hand warm in hers.
“I truly love my husband,” she continued, her eyes glistening. “And I am so grateful for our 55 years of marriage. Our life hasn’t always been easy, has it, darling?” She turned to him, her smile widening. “But he has always been by my side, through every storm, every challenge, every joy.”
She remembered the early days, the cramped apartment, the late nights spent huddled over textbooks, their dreams as big as the sky. He had worked tirelessly, his hands calloused and strong, to provide for their growing family. She remembered the birth of their first child, the overwhelming rush of love, the fear, the sheer wonder of it all.
“Together,” she said, her voice filled with pride, “we raised five wonderful children. And now, we are blessed with eleven grandchildren!”
The room erupted in applause, a wave of affection washing over them. She remembered the chaos of raising five children, the constant hum of activity, the endless piles of laundry, the scraped knees and bedtime stories. He had been her rock, her partner, her equal.
“He has always been an incredible partner in parenting,” she said, her voice softening. “Reading to our kids, changing diapers, playing with them, and putting them to bed when I was overwhelmed. He never hesitated to help, whether it was inside or outside the house.”
She remembered the late nights, the whispered conversations over cups of tea, the shared dreams and anxieties. He had always listened, truly listened, his eyes filled with understanding. And she, in turn, had listened to him, offering her own brand of comfort and support.
“He does laundry,” she chuckled, a hint of playful amusement in her voice. “He cleans when I’m not feeling well, and even cooks a few times a week, simply because he enjoys it.”
She remembered the Sunday mornings, the smell of pancakes and bacon filling the house, the sound of his cheerful whistling as he worked in the kitchen. She remembered the evenings spent in the garden, their hands stained with earth, planting, weeding, and harvesting together.
“And when it comes to our garden,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “he’s right there with me, every step of the way.”
She remembered the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the unspoken understanding that flowed between them. Their marriage was a tapestry woven with shared experiences, mutual respect, and an unwavering love.
“He listens to me, and I listen to him,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “Our marriage has always been about partnership and mutual respect.”
She looked at him, her heart overflowing with gratitude. “Today,” she said, her voice trembling, “I just want to thank him in front of everyone, just like I thank him every day, for being by my side.”
The room erupted in applause once more, a standing ovation this time. He stood beside her, his eyes filled with love, his hand squeezing hers gently. He was her anchor, her confidante, her best friend. And she, in turn, was his.
As they sat down, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, she felt a profound sense of contentment. Their life, though filled with challenges, had been a beautiful journey, a testament to the enduring power of love. And she knew, with unwavering certainty, that she wouldn’t have changed a single moment of it.
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