Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithfull’s romance burned bright and fast in the 1960s—a wild, chaotic love story that defined the Swinging London era. He was the swaggering Rolling Stones frontman; she was the angelic voice behind “As Tears Go By,” a song he and Keith Richards wrote for her. Together, they were rock royalty, but their four-year ride from 1966 to 1970 was a rollercoaster of passion, betrayal, and heartbreak. For decades, Jagger’s kept his lips sealed about the messy details, letting Faithfull’s own tell-alls—like her 1994 memoir Faithfull—fill the gaps. Now, at 81, he’s reportedly confirming an “awful truth” about her, a revelation that’s got fans reeling. As someone who’s followed their saga from the Stones’ rise to today, I’m here to unpack this moment—what he’s saying, why it’s surfacing, and how it rewrites their legend.
Let’s rewind. Faithfull, who passed away January 30, 2025, at 78, was just 17 when she met Jagger at a 1964 party. She was a convent girl with a haunting alto, spotted by Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham. Her hit single launched her, but her life with Jagger—starting after she left her husband John Dunbar—plunged her into the deep end. They were the “It” couple, but the cracks showed fast. The 1967 Redlands drug bust, where cops found her naked under a fur rug at Keith Richards’ place, branded her a tabloid villain—“wanton woman” to Jagger’s “noble rock star,” she later wrote. Then came 1968: seven months pregnant with Jagger’s daughter, Corinna, she miscarried at his Irish estate. She spiraled—cocaine, heroin, a suicide attempt—while he strayed, famously with Anita Pallenberg. By 1970, she walked away, losing custody of her son Nicholas and hitting the streets of Soho.
What’s this “awful truth”? As of March 19, 2025, 8:51 PM PDT, no fresh Jagger statement’s hit the wire—no interview, no post beyond his January 30 tribute calling her “a wonderful friend, a beautiful singer, a great actress.” But the buzz—fueled by YouTube vids and X posts since her death—points to that tribute as the spark. “She was so much part of my life for so long,” he wrote on Instagram, a line some read as a quiet nod to the pain they shared, especially the miscarriage. Faithfull’s own words haunt here: in a 2021 Rolling Stone chat, she said their four years “almost destroyed me,” hinting Jagger’s lifestyle—and infidelity—pushed her over the edge. Posts on X claim he’s “finally” owning that, admitting his role in her downfall.
Dig into their history, and it’s messy. Jagger wasn’t just a bystander—he cheated openly, with Marsha Hunt (mother of his daughter Karis) and Pallenberg, Faithfull’s best friend, during 1970’s Performance shoot. Faithfull hit back, sleeping with Richards—“the best night of my life,” she called it in 2014—nearly getting caught when Jagger walked in. Richards bolted, leaving his socks, a gag they shared for years. The miscarriage, though, was the breaking point. Faithfull told The Telegraph in 2007 it crushed her; Jagger’s rarely spoken of it, but his 1968 track “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” carries its weight—written post-loss, per Faithfull’s account. Her addiction took over after, landing her homeless by 1971 while Jagger rocked on.
Why now? Faithfull’s death shook him—Richards mourned too, posting “I’ll miss her!!” with a photo. Jagger’s tribute feels like closure, not confession. No bombshell interview backs this “confirmation”—the “awful truth” seems pieced from her story, his silence, and their past. Did he fuel her demons? She thought so, telling Details in 1995 the Redlands bust “destroyed me” as a woman in a man’s game. He’s never denied the affairs or the chaos, but he’s also never owned her collapse outright. His kindness later—calling her during her 2007 breast cancer fight—shows regret, not admission.
Here’s my take: Jagger’s not spilling some dark secret—he’s reflecting on a love that broke them both, just not evenly. Faithfull rebuilt, with Broken English in 1979 and a fierce legacy; he kept rolling. The “awful truth” isn’t new—it’s her pain, long public, now framed as his burden too. What’s your read—guilt catching up, or just time softening the edges?