Candy Hearts has always been an extension of everything I am. I came up with the idea for the band when I was a teenager, and I think it was deeply empowering at the time to be able to be in a punk band, shout on stage, and still own the fact that I felt like such a shy, insecure girl. That was always my thing — I’m powerful despite my anxieties. I think over the past five years — after the amazing whirlwind my band has been through that I still can’t believe even happened — it really transformed from an extension of myself to an extension of my anxiety and not much else.
Here’s the thing: It is never, ever, okay to lay a finger on another person, even if they’re a girl infiltrating your little circle of fun-loving bro-dudes at a pop punk show. I don’t care if no one believes me, but I can’t live with this weighing on my chest anymore. It’s been almost a year and it haunts me. Every single day I wake up and remember he told me no one is going to believe me, how I was just a crazy girl who’s band was terrible and he was going to make sure he ruined my career. Have fun on your last tour as a band, he said. So I kept quiet. I keep quiet because every day I see another band I love repping Seaway, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid and feel isolated.
These stories keep coming out and it’s not going to stop unless we, all of us, decide it’s time that it stops. Right now there is no accountability in our music scene — bad things happen and the people that do them see little, if any, repercussions. They still make music. They remain employed and on tour. They are given countless chances and everyone looks the other way. Demand better.