🎯💥 open target season is canceled — per my last email
listen.
the truth?
i’ve been easy prey my whole life.
not because i’m weak—
because i was unprotected.
no dad flying in.
no stepdad.
no brother.
no stepbrother.
no cousins.
no aunties.
no uncles.
no one showing up to sit
with the baby
so i could finish fucking finals.
no one, period.
that’s open season
on a girl like me.
that’s how you get date-raped
by a “friend”
and your family
fucking shrugs.
that’s how you move
through your second
and third trimester
bruised
and nobody clocks it.
that’s how statistics
pat you on
the fucking head
and call it
“re-victimization.” 🗂️📉
i would’ve survived
a clean break.
separation? fine.
he moves on? godspeed.
he’s still a dad? great—
cool—
co-parent
and keep it pushing.
but this isn’t that story.
this is the story
where a man
weaponized
every fault line
in me.
where he
financially
nuked my fucking life.
where policies
got routed
in the fucking dark
through a woman
who should’ve never
been anywhere
near
me,
my child,
or my accounts.
where “advisor”
meant pipeline
and fucking cover.
where he tried
to kill me
and my daughter.
yeah—
that story.
this isn’t regular dangerous.
this is ivy-league brain +
special-operations training.
this is calculated,
emotionless,
zero real friends
to even call
for a fucking welfare check.
the only person
i ever saw
him talk to?
my financial representative.
lmfao.
and his mom.
that’s it.
tell me
that’s not fucking terrifying.
and the minute
a whiff of fucking
consequences hit,
his mother went
absolute ghost.
hot-drop silence. 🥔💨
message received.
so here’s the memo—
for predators,
enablers,
and anyone who thinks
i won’t say it out loud:
i was the perfect target
because there was no perimeter.
no safety net.
no one to tap the fuck in.
that’s over.
i’m not weak.
i was isolated.
i’m not dramatic.
i’m documented.
i’m not “asking for it.”
i’m fucking naming it.
and now i’m building
the goddamn perimeter
myself.
brick by ugly fucking brick.
paper trail by paper trail.
if you come for me again,
you meet the walls
i had to learn to pour
with my own fucking hands.
open target season
is fucking closed.
💀🔫
refunds via certified mail.
office hours for exploitation
are fucking over—
try filing a notice instead.
and if you still
can’t read the signs?
don’t worry.
i’ll serve it.
🧾🧱🖇️
🎯
