Domestic Violence Awareness Month: October

We pause our analysis of art and abuse briefly to bring up the fact that it's officially October. We're well into a week of October and this month is known as DV Awareness Month for those who have been abused--or know someone whose been abused.

It's obviously for everyone, but if you or someone you know hasn't been affected by DV, maybe this month is overshadowed by Halloween and pumpkin patches (valid, but there's a lot to unpack).

I bring this up as a post because I met this girl at a concert once. It was in April 2023, I was in an odd codependent online relationship after a severe form of isolation due to depression--and then I got a concussion. Then I rolled my car two and a half times. Then my first love from when I was fifteen committed suicide. And I didn't live at home. There was so much going on.

I went to a concert in Memphis to see my favorite band, Shinedown, with my toxic roommate who was really horrible to me half the time. We were anxiously waiting for Shinedown to take the stage. This creepy man was trying to talk to women in the crowd and I noticed this girl standing next to us alone. She mentioned something about him making her uncomfortable, I asked if she needed help. She smiled and huddled closer to us and I glared at the man to keep him away from us and that seemed to work.

Her husband returned and we made introductions. I found out this was this girl's first concert, especially in the pit. As an avid Shinedown-concert attender, I taught her when we were supposed to jump, to scream, to pull out lights, and more.

If you've ever been to a Shinedown show, it's a specific ritual every time. It's magical.

This girl's husband thanked me after for making her first concert important and embracing her immediately. They mentioned they had kids, the one was very young--barely one. Leaving him was hard for them. The girl had lots of anxiety by going to this concert, and now they both go to concerts every chance they get and I get to see it all on Facebook.

I have had some conversations with her every now and then, but I didn't realize what she'd been through.

Until last October, she shared her experience. She shared photos. She stated the DV Awareness month was important to share her experience. This only happened six years ago--around the same time as my abuse. Hers went longer. Hers was horrifically brutal. There were children involved. Her children. They witnessed what happened to her by their own father.

When I saw this, I had just pulled into my garage at my mom's house and opened Facebook to avoid going in my house. I sobbed. I messaged this girl and told her I was proud of her. She made me feel less alone.

And I was glad that we both got to scream our traumas out at a concert together.

I don't think art is just for expression of abuse. I think art is where abused victims can come together and scream into some amazing songs and cheer for bands and music you love. I don't want to go into the details of her story, she happily shares it to raise awareness and make sure other victims don't feel alone--but it's her story.

And her story makes me feel less isolated in my experience. Hers was way worse but we're still familiar with horror.

And I think that's what I'm trying to say whenever I talk about these experiences showing up in someone else's art.