Why on earth did CMT insist on playing this music video every morning before I went to school?
The one time that breaking down into tears would have been extremely inconvenient.
But, seriously, I was traumatized by the “Just a Dream” music video the first time I watched it as a kid.
I loved Carrie Underwood and all of her music videos growing up, especially “All-American Girl” because she reminded me of Barbie with all of the outfits and careers.
I also adored “Wasted,” so I wasn’t like totally ignorant or adverse to sad songs. I was a dramatic kid who enjoyed drama. It’s really sad how often I would act out “Stay” by Sugarland.
“Just a Dream” though . . . that music video and plot twist absolutely scarred me.
The video starts with Carrie Underwood in a car with her boyfriend, and they’re talking about this ambiguous thing that’s happening tomorrow.
When the video cuts to Carrie in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle, we all assume that their conversation was about them getting married tomorrow.
Then, the first chorus ends, and the look are on her face isn’t joyful. The words “just a dream” feel way more ominous than they did a moment ago when we could all hope she means that marrying this man doesn’t feel real.
The entire ceremony feels off at that point, and as more and more flashbacks are revealed, we realize that her boyfriend is a soldier and that ambiguous thing was not a wedding, it was his deployment.
I’m sure you can all see where this is going because we all know lots of sad soldier songs.
Well, then the part that absolutely destroyed me as a kid happens. Carrie Underwood’s white dress and veil slowly turn black, everyone’s heads bow, and the man at the end of the aisle becomes a coffin.
Turns out, the man in the car died during his deployment, and we are now at a funeral.
Instead of the dream being a wedding, it’s more of a nightmare because Carried Underwood is grieving and can’t believe that he’s really gone.
At this point, Carrie Underwood is crying, I’m crying, and my mom is staring at me with her school bag in one hand and my backpack in the other as she tries to shoo me out the door.
But, like… I’m fine. This music video only traumatized me . . . a little bit. No therapy needed.
