Horrifying Allegations Against Garth Brooks: Why Are We Still Here?

 

I can’t believe I’m writing this in 2024. But here we are—again. It’s another big-name celebrity, another horrific allegation, and another wave of victim-blaming that makes my blood boil. This time, it’s Garth Brooks. Garth Freaking Brooks, the guy whose songs many have belted out like anthems, standing accused of sexual assault, battery, and rape by a former hairstylist and makeup artist, “Jane Roe.”

Let me be clear: the details of the accusations are horrifying. Jane Roe says that Brooks assaulted her multiple times, exposed himself, and ultimately raped her during a work trip in 2019. She was trapped in a hotel suite, alone with him. The power imbalance is glaring. She worked for him, likely financially dependent on keeping her job, and Brooks allegedly used that power to take something from her she’ll never get back. Yet here we are, in the year 2024, and what’s the first thing some of his fans say? “Why did she stay?” or “Why didn’t she go to the police?” or even worse “She’s lying. It’s a money grab.”

Seriously?

It’s like we’ve learned nothing. How many times do we need to have this conversation? We know why women don’t immediately run to the police. We know why they stay in situations that seem unfathomable from the outside. And it’s not because they’re complicit, and it’s not because they’re making it up.

It’s because of fear. It’s because of the power imbalance. When someone has the power to make or break your career, your life—hell, your ability to pay rent and put food on the table—it’s not that simple to just walk away. Do you think Jane Roe, who had worked her ass off in the beauty industry, should’ve just thrown away the years she put in to get close to her dream job? And for what? A promise of justice in a system that still, after all these years, fails to protect women?

Because guess what happens when women do come forward? They get torn apart. They get called liars. They get accused of looking for a payday. The narrative flips, and suddenly, it’s all about how inconvenient this is for the man—how he’s being blackmailed, his career is being threatened, his good name tarnished.

Look at Garth Brooks’ statement: “For the last two months, I have been hassled to no end with threats, lies, and tragic tales of what my future would be if I did not write a check for many millions of dollars.” He’s positioning himself as the real victim here. Hush money, extortion, defamation,—whatever he wants to call it, his whole tone reeks of a man more concerned about his brand than the fact that someone says he violated them in the most intimate, destructive way possible. And yet, people are falling in line, blindly defending him because it’s Garth Brooks. Country legend. People’s champ. Their hero.

But what about her? Why is she automatically the liar?

We know why women don’t tell people. It’s the same old story. Fear of not being believed. Fear of being called a liar. Fear of being fired. Fear of having their lives ripped apart by a legal system that’s built to protect powerful men. And, yes, fear of having to keep working for the very person who hurt them because that’s how they survive. We don’t all get to quit our jobs when we’re treated like garbage, when we’re violated, when we’re raped.

Why do people think it's so easy to just quit, report it, and move on? Do they forget how many of us live paycheck to paycheck? How many of us depend on our careers to feed our kids, keep a roof over our heads, and just exist? How many of us get our worth from the jobs we’ve worked so hard to build? Garth Brooks allegedly used that very dependency to manipulate, trap, and control her. And then, when she finally couldn’t take it anymore, he painted her as some kind of gold-digger, a predator chasing him for money.

Give me a break.

This is what sexual assault does to women. It takes everything. Not just the physical act, but everything else that follows—the isolation, the silence, the inability to speak out, and if you do, the onslaught of doubt and character assassination. And for what? Why are we, as a society, still more comfortable defending a celebrity than believing a woman’s pain? Is it easier to think someone would just make up something so devastating than to accept that our heroes are flawed, sometimes dangerously so?

I mean, what kind of a world are we living in where Garth Brooks can be accused of something as serious as rape, and the immediate reaction is, “She’s just after money”? It’s 2024, and we are still stuck in this primitive mindset that women lie about sexual assault to ruin men’s lives.

If this was your job, your livelihood, and you were attacked by someone with the power to destroy your career and reputation, what would you do? You think you’d just march into the police station and shout, “Take him down!” with no fear of losing everything you’ve worked for?

You wouldn’t. You’d be scared. You’d wonder if anyone would believe you. You’d wonder if it’s even worth it, knowing how people react. Knowing that people are already saying, “Well, she worked for him for years—why didn’t she leave sooner?” As if that’s proof she’s lying. We know why women stay. They stay because their jobs are on the line, because they need money to survive, because powerful men use that power to keep them quiet.

And let’s be real. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that sexual assault can derail your entire life. You work so hard to build something, and one person’s vile actions take it all away from you. That’s the reality for women in these situations. It’s terrifying, it’s exhausting, and it’s relentless.

And yet, here we are, watching another man accused of heinous things with the public already starting to line up behind him, blindly. Not because he’s innocent, but because he’s famous. Because they can’t bear to lose their idol, so instead they’ll take down a woman they don’t even know.

How many more women have to scream into the void before we stop worshiping these men just because they have a good PR team? How many times are we going to let men hide behind their money, their fame, and their curated personas while victims are cast aside, labeled liars, and left to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives?

I’m so sick of it.

Aren’t you?

Thankful for your presence, Neja