Aubrey O’Day Says She Was Fired From Danity Kane for ‘Not Participating Sexually’ With Diddy; Struggles to Recall Alleged Assault: ‘I Don’t Even Know if I Was Raped and I Don’t Want to Know’

Aubrey O'Day, who first rose to prominence on MTV's "Making the Band" as a member of the manufactured group Danity Kane, has endorsed the claims presented in the Netflix documentary "Sean Combs: The Reckoning." She alleges that the hip-hop mogul, Diddy, fostered a professionally abusive environment. O'Day specifically recalls being singled out by Combs as "the looker" of the group, a designation she now views as a form of grooming that established unsettling and unequal expectations for her compared to her bandmates.

To support her allegations, O'Day produced emails she claims are from Combs, which she says mark when their professional relationship crossed a line. In one she read publicly, Combs explicitly described his sexual fantasies before closing with "God bless, Diddy." O'Day highlighted the severe power dynamic, stating such conduct from a boss in any other industry would lead to immediate dismissal. She believes her removal from Danity Kane merely six months later was direct retribution for rebuffing his advances, a move that coincided with his shifting focus to a new project with fellow member Dawn Richard. The group, assembled on television in 2005, was a major commercial success; their first two albums debuted at number one on the Billboard 200—a rare achievement that highlights the immense professional pressures and stakes involved.

Sean Combs' legal team responded to the documentary's broader allegations with a statement to Variety, declining to address individual accounts. They characterized the series as a biased presentation relying on sources with "longstanding personal grievances, financial motives, or credibility issues," and asserted Combs would defend himself against any legitimate claims in a legal setting. This non-specific rebuttal arrives as Combs confronts multiple civil lawsuits. Crisis management analysts often note that in such situations, legal advisors must carefully weigh the risks of public commentary against the strategic benefits of silence, a complex calculus that can leave accusers feeling their stories are being dismissed en masse.

The film also delves into a harrowing affidavit from a separate legal case, in which a witness describes finding O'Day in a distressed state during an alleged assault. After hearing the graphic account, O'Day expressed profound confusion and trauma, noting she has no memory of the incident and does not drink alcohol. "Does this mean I was raped?" she asked. "I don't even know if I was raped, and I don't want to know." She articulated a painful dilemma: seeking clarity about her own experience could potentially discredit the witness's testimony if challenged, thus strengthening Combs' defense and harming other accusers. This illustrates a difficult dynamic in high-profile cases, where, as victim advocate Dr. Lena Torres observes, "Survivors can feel forced to choose between their own need for answers and preserving the collective credibility of the case against a powerful institution."

O'Day's testimony contributes to a mounting reassessment of Sean Combs, a multifaceted mogul whose empire includes the Bad Boy Records label, the Sean John clothing line, and a lucrative partnership with Cîroc vodka. The allegations paint a starkly different picture from his curated public image of entrepreneurial success. Her concluding remark—"The weight of that man and his bullshit … I will never get up from under it"—powerfully underscores the lasting psychological toll on those who challenge influential figures, a sentiment echoing through an industry undergoing a prolonged and painful reckoning with power abuse.