🗣 dear defense: if your “research” of my trauma diary is a preemptive victim-blaming narrative…fucking yikes. 🏆💥🥊

subtitle: congrats on reading comprehension. now try ethics.

—

yes,
i see you.
👁👄👁
seven hundred+ events.
every single page.
over an hour of stalking.
denver hub.
😳🔥🏠
scrolling my
goddamn trauma
like it’s westlaw for feelings.

here’s your heads-up presentation,
since you’re already screen-recording:

👤👀

i built this site
as a fucking life raft,
not your discovery buffet.
it’s a diary,
not a deposition.
it exists because private rooms
failed to keep me alive. ✨
full stop.

—

what you’re actually doing 💡

not “context gathering.”
let’s be honest,
i begged you
to communicate with me
before all this shit
dropped on this site.
this ain’t “truth seeking.”
you’re scraping
a domestic-violence survivor’s
fucking journal
to manufacture a character theory.
that’s textbook secondary harm.
i’m literally in crim law rn.
this is the playbook for victims.
it signals to every target watching:
speak and we’ll punish your speech.
(hi, chilling effect. say hi to your cousin, retaliation.)

—

morality check 💡
(since y’all love “dv advocacy” on linkedin)

trauma processing is healthcare.
weaponizing it is cruelty
cosplaying as due diligence.
if your whole defense
needs my tone,
my cursing,
my jokes, ✨
my lowercase,
my fucking rage
to excuse a man’s hands
on my pregnant skull,
you don’t have a case.
you have a fucking
smear campaign.

—

ethics check 💡
(professional, not instagram)

good-faith advocacy ≠ strip-mining
a survivor’s diary for shame pellets.
the point of legal ethics
is to narrow issues,
not inflame a jury
with fucking vibe critiques.
if your trial plan is
“she wrote loudly,”
you’re just proving
the violence traveled—
from his fists to your filings.

—

law check 💡
(you knew this was coming)

✍🏻 relevance: blog vibes
rarely make assault
or fucking fraud—
more/less probable.
you know it.

✍🏻 prejudice: even if you pretend
it’s probative, the unfair-prejudice/
confusion mini-trial risk is massive.
you know that too.

✍🏻 character evidence: you can’t use
“she’s angry online” to say
“she asked for it” offline.
that’s not how character rules work.

✍🏻 credibility: truthfulness is a narrow door.
“she swears and posts memes”
doesn’t fit through
that shit though.

✍🏻 hearsay: if you want my posts
for their truth,
then you’ve got hearsay problems.
if you want them to impeach,
welcome to 403 land.

✍🏻 discovery abuse:
proportionality + privacy exist.
protective orders exist.
courts hate sideshows.

👏🏿👏🏽👏🏻👏🏾👏🏼

translation:
your blog-as-weapon strategy
is legally flimsy as fuck
and ethically fucking ugly.
bro—pick a struggle.

—

preempting your favorite lazy spins

“she’s monetizing her story”
no, i’m resuscitating my life.
my bills didn’t pause
when he strangled my future.

“she’s trying this in the court of public opinion”
no, i’m trying not to die in the court of public silence.

“she’s inconsistent”
trauma isn’t linear prose.
evidence is. that’s why i keep receipts, dates, filings.

“she hates him”
incorrect. if hatred kept women safe,
femicide rates would be zero. consequences do.

—

the record ✨
(since you’re so obsessed)

• restraining order disclosures? made. repeatedly.
• financial abandonment? documented. numbers, dates, amounts.
• child policy + dependent pay shenanigans? paper trails exist.
• cross-country relocations to survive? fucking receipts.
• mystery money + bonds while i begged for basics? goddamn logged.

you don’t need my punchlines
to understand the pattern.
you just need a calculator
and a fucking calendar.

—

ground rules going forward—
✨ yo, straight up:

1. my diary is not your client’s alibi.

2. my tone is not a defense to his conduct.

3. my survival strategy is not a credibility defect.

4. my website documenting fucking harm
   is not consent to be harmed again.

and for the true stalkers:
if your takeaway
from a woman nearly dying
and being abused by an
entire fucking financial “institution”
is “she sounds mean online,”
you’re advertising
your goddamn complicity,
not your intellect.

—

closing:

i know you’re here.
i can literally see the denver traffic
spiking the fuck off the charts
while i type.
so let me save you some scrolling:

this archive
exists so my kid
has a mother,
not a memorial.
if your plan
is to turn a safety flare
into evidence of sin,
you just proved my thesis:
abuse isn’t a one-man sport.
it’s a fucking relay.
and you’re grabbing the motherfucking baton.

👏🏿👏🏽👏🏻👏🏾👏🏼👏🏿👏🏽👏🏻👏🏾👏🏼