Lexi Jones, daughter of the iconic David Bowie, has courageously revealed a deeply personal and painful chapter of her adolescence. At 14, while her father privately battled cancer, she was unexpectedly removed from her home and thrust into a world of treatment facilities, a decision that continues to resonate with her today.
The intervention occurred during a period of immense fragility, as Lexi grappled with depression, an eating disorder, and substance misuse. Unlike typical teenage experimentation, her struggles stemmed from a desperate need to escape, a pattern that intensified as her peers’ carefree experiences highlighted her own internal turmoil.
She vividly remembers her father’s heartbreaking words, delivered through a letter just before she was taken: “I’m sorry we have to do this.” Moments later, two men arrived, presenting her with a stark choice – cooperation or force. Lexi, instinctively resisting, clung to a table leg as she was pulled away, feeling stripped of her very right to exist within her own life.
The initial destination was a wilderness therapy program, a controversial practice involving outdoor behavioral treatment. For 91 grueling days, she endured harsh winter conditions, sleeping under tarps and learning basic survival skills. A chilling detail remains etched in her memory: a strip search upon arrival, followed by the issuance of minimal supplies – a fleece, snow pants, boots, and a backpack that felt overwhelmingly large.
Life in the wilderness was relentlessly monitored. She was tasked with digging holes for toilets and compelled to count aloud, ensuring staff could track her every movement. A city girl through and through, Lexi had never imagined such a program existed, let alone that she would be subjected to it.
Following the wilderness program, she was transferred to a residential treatment center in Utah, where she remained for over a year. The invasive procedures continued, including strip searches and nighttime monitoring. It was within those walls that she received the devastating news of her father’s passing in January 2016, just days after the release of his final, critically acclaimed album, *Blackstar*.
She had shared a poignant final conversation with him on his birthday, exchanging declarations of love, both acutely aware of the impending loss. The announcement of his death, framed as being “surrounded by family,” felt like a cruel exclusion. “Yes, the whole family was there,” she recalled, “Except for me.”
Her grief was not allowed to unfold naturally, but rather categorized and structured within the program’s rigid framework. At the time, she accepted this as normal, unaware of the healthy grieving process she was being denied. It became her sole reference point for processing unimaginable loss.
Lexi’s struggles began long before her father’s illness. As a young child, teachers noticed signs of anxiety, and she experienced her first panic attack before the age of ten. By 12, she battled bulimia, and at 11, she turned to self-harm, all while navigating learning disabilities that fueled feelings of inadequacy.
Growing up as the daughter of two global icons added another layer of complexity. She felt scrutinized, often reduced to her parents’ fame rather than recognized as an individual. “Adults would talk to me differently,” she explained. “Some weren’t interested in me as a person at all, only as proximity to something else. I felt like I existed as an idea.”
After a brief return home at 16, she relapsed into old patterns and was sent away for treatment again. This cycle of removal and return blurred the lines of her reality, leaving her feeling like a problem to be managed, a burden passed from one facility to another.
Now, at 25, Lexi is still unraveling the emotional consequences of those years, experiencing lingering anxieties and a constant need to assess her surroundings for unspoken rules. She channels her experiences into her music, recently releasing her debut album, *Xandri*, a deeply personal and independently produced 12-track project.
She chose to share her story to shed light on “the parts of yourself you lose in the process of being fixed.” While acknowledging her privilege, she insists that the emotional and psychological manipulation she endured constitutes abuse, a truth she refuses to ignore or downplay. It’s a testament to her resilience and a powerful message of healing and self-discovery.
