For years, the Hogan family welcomed fans into their home, presenting themselves as a larger-than-life but loving clan on Hogan Knows Best. Brooke Hogan remembers things differently.
“A collection of happy photographs isn’t necessarily the same thing as a healthy family dynamic,” she says. “I feel like my life was The Truman Show. [But] when the cameras stopped rolling, the masks stayed on.”
Brooke, 38, has spent much of her life caught between protecting her family and protecting herself. Those tensions only intensified after her dad, wrestling and pop culture icon Hulk Hogan, died of a heart attack last July at the age of 71. Brooke was left grieving a father she loved deeply, despite their complicated history, while navigating fractured relationships with her mom, Linda, 67, and brother, Nick, 36.
She had largely avoided wading into the family drama playing out on social media, but in August, when Nick told TV Insider he was “so proud” of Brooke, she felt his comments painted a misleading picture. “We are not in communication, and his characterization of our relationship does not reflect my experience,” she told Us at the time. Now, Brooke adds, “I’m not interested in launching a campaign against my family. I am interested in being allowed to tell the truth about my own life when other people publicly tell it for me.”
In a candid conversation with Us, Brooke opens up about the betrayal that shattered her trust in Nick, why she’s keeping her distance from Linda and the boundaries she’s put in place to protect her peace as she raises her own children with husband Steven Oleksy.
You’ve kept a relatively low profile since your father’s passing. Why share your thoughts now?
I would have preferred not to. What keeps happening is that people I don’t have relationships with speak publicly about me, our relationships or my decisions. Then I’m put in the position of staying silent while a false narrative becomes accepted as fact or correcting it. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide I didn’t want a family anymore.
What did you make of Nick’s words?
People in the world that we come from are media trained. It’s a great way to, as my dad would say, “switch the heat.” My family’s narrative has always been like, “Oh, we’re so happy for Brooke. We’re so proud of Brooke.” But it’s really hard to see that same stock response when the reality behind closed doors is extremely different.
When did you last talk to Nick?
We were going back and forth before my dad passed. I was sending him medical notes I had taken over the years because I was still trying to help from a distance. After Dad died, I asked Nick for something personal — specifically one of the crosses I remembered [Dad] wearing. He gave me two crosses, but neither was one I recognized as something Dad wore regularly. He also gave me his sun hat, some clothes and a pair of flip-flops. Ironically, the flip-flops probably meant the most because you can literally see the imprint of my dad’s feet in them.
How did that cause tension?
I voluntarily removed myself from Dad’s estate [in 2023] because I believed that, regardless of what was on paper, my brother would understand that certain sentimental things would mean the world to me. Had our positions been reversed, I know how generous I planned to be with him. That’s what hurts. The belongings aren’t what ruptured the relationship; it was everything surrounding them. Since Dad’s death, my brother has ghosted us while publicly embracing his position as the keeper of Dad’s legacy — all while saying we’re “in a great place.” We don’t even talk.
Where did things stand between you and your dad before he died?
The foundation between my dad and me was incredibly strong. It survived public scandals, private pain, enormous changes in our family and periods of estrangement because underneath all of it there was a bond that was very real. Over time, things became increasingly complicated until eventually the relationship I had always believed could survive anything couldn’t survive what was happening around us anymore. I can love my father profoundly and still tell the truth about where he hurt me. I can acknowledge the wonderful things my family gave me while also acknowledging that eventually the dynamic became something I could no longer live inside. Both things can be true.
You chose not to attend your father’s funeral. Why?
For my dad, it was embarrassing to be carted around in a coffin with makeup on and everybody ogling [at his] dead body. He used to say, “Just burn me up and throw me in the ocean.” I couldn’t watch these “events.” Dad didn’t want a funeral, but if five or 10 people who really loved him got together, [I’d] swallow my pride and get there. But I wasn’t going to show up to a fiasco.
Were you invited to any tributes?
When I was getting s**t from the public [for] not being there for my dad’s bell ring at WWE, I posted on Instagram, “Guys, I wasn’t invited.” [WWE president] Nick Khan called me personally and said, “Brooke, I extended the invite through your brother. You’re always invited.” When I knew that my brother was offered the chance to tell me, “Hey, Brooke, do you want to come to this thing?” and he chose not to, it told me everything I needed to know.
Could you reconcile with Nick?
I would have to see some empathy [and] effort. I’d have to see some actual respect, not fake praise. I think their main excuse, and I think he even said this, was, “We don’t want, or Dad doesn’t want to have to go through Steve.” I said, “Listen, if you’re gonna try to mess with me, you got to go through my husband first.” So, it kind of stopped them there. It was a checkpoint. I stand by that.
Your mom said she is confused and hurt by your estrangement. What do you feel is missing from her version?
The wounded fawn. I have one of the most vile text messages I’ve ever seen from a human being that she sent my husband to the point where I’d be embarrassed for her if I actually got to where I had to release it to correct this narrative. I don’t want to get into the mud with the pigs. If my mom was honest about how tumultuous our relationship was, if anything, I’d be like, “Wow! My mom’s a stand-up person.”
Do you miss the family dynamic you once had?
I miss individual people. I desperately miss my dad. Those are two completely different things. When I think about the family unit itself, I remember endless tension. Scrutiny. Arguments. Pressure to perform. It was walking on eggshells. There were [also] beautiful moments. There was laughter. There was love. I’m not going to rewrite my childhood and pretend every second was horrible. What I miss is what I always hoped our family could eventually become, not what the dynamic actually was.
What is the hardest part about your dad not getting to know your 20-month-old twins, Oliver and Molly?
Molly, she is like a carbon copy of me. My dad would’ve absolutely eaten her up. She would have brought so much joy to his life. He would have been so proud of Oliver because he’s just so big. He’d be like, “That kid’s gonna be a monster. [He’s] gonna be a wrestler.”
Did you think that your dad would eventually meet the twins?
My husband and I moved to Florida so that we could take care of my dad, so that we could be closer. There was just so much more life that was about to happen. I even bought furniture, taking into account that it had to be big enough for him to fit in, and he never sat in any of the chairs. I had this whole life in my mind where my father was going to be part of my future, and we’d go to concerts and sit in front of the TV and watch Jerry Springer for hours.
What have you learned about grief?
I don’t know if it’s because [my dad and I] had more of a spiritual connection, but I carry him heavy in my heart every day, and also in a very light and effervescent way. There’s an action figure sitting on the kitchen counter. There’s a plush doll on my nightstand. I have his ashes. His flip-flops are next to my bed. I kind of function as though he’s still sitting on Clearwater Beach. Instead of picking up the phone and calling him, I just have a conversation out in the air. I keep him alive that way.
