She. Deserved. It.

So Christmas was, let’s say, eventful. I haven’t even left my bed today. I never made it to LawyerBoy’s. I spent this Christmas in bed with my computer and phone, and let me tell you—shit got weird. Where the hell do I even fucking start?

Okay, so at like 4 a.m., the website gets its first hit of the day. Welcome to Reno.

Now the funny thing about this is I have this quasi-connected to Carson City, and they are regular readers—not daily, but they come to where they left off and go from there. Reno, geographically, is where anyone who maybe worked in Carson City would live. So a few times I did think it was surveillance, but it wasn’t the one that was clearly the surveillance.

Well, today they used the search bar. Interesting.

“Insurance.”

“DOI.”

“Lady Lawyer.”

And a name which was familiar to me as a higher-up—I’ll call it—at DOI.

So this person, who I had initially thought was {D}’s girlfriend—I was wrong—but I had been crazy and contacted her. I was going through a lot. So I really have no earthly idea. I assume it is her. I do not exclude that there may have been something between them. {D} is well known for sleeping with women in his office.

So what is she looking for? I don’t know. It’s just bizarre. Four a.m. on Christmas, she is here printing every page of the old blog.

Like… Merry Christmas.

Do some of you not have families?

What the hell happened next?

Oh yeah. I commented on Aaron Ford’s Christmas post on Threads, as I do, about him not charging my rapist. He went through—and I believe it is him himself on that platform, not a social media guy—and liked every single comment except mine. I found that to be the funniest fucking thing.

So I commented again, like, “Bestie, are we not friends anymore?”

I am so going to get my ass arrested at some point, but heckling him brings what little joy I have in my day.

Then my mom texted. Her boyfriend threatened to blow her head off, and she called, and she was drunk. Then he starts yelling, they’re fighting, and he’s yelling that she’s drunk—like the slurring of words didn’t tip me off to that one.

And I feel bad that my reaction was just, “Jesus fucking Christ, why am I involved in this shit?”

Like, we have given her every out. She has a place to go, people to take her there. We have her covered if she would just go. But she won’t, so I’m not going to react.

I don’t want to sit here and listen to this shit and deal with it. She complains constantly, and she has no excuse for not leaving. Everyone is 100% supportive. But if she is making that decision, I mean, I’ve tried to talk to her and I can’t make her go.

I’m not going to get dragged into it anymore. That’s on her. I’m not going to argue with her boyfriend on the phone. I am just not.

Just leave me out of it.

Then the Twitter feed started buzzing on my phone. Someone had retweeted the video—that is audio only—that I had put up as evidence of what happened, with, you know, a stern tweet about women’s rights and rape.

So someone thought this should be posted by an account with an XHamster link in the bio.

Now I have others retweeting it with things like, “this is hot,” and they are all coming to my website apparently looking for porn.

I knew this was a potential problem. I knew that someone somewhere would think that was something to enjoy. I never expected that a civilized human being would publicly take what is clearly labeled as a sexual assault—something I am seeking justice for—and spread it around for sexual gratification.

I guess I underestimated the lack of humanity on the internet.

I can’t bitch about it. I did put it up, and I knew it could happen when I did. It just didn’t feel good when it did. It’s kind of violating to me to have them come to the site.

Like, this is my safe place to talk.

I don’t know. I am just going to ignore it. It happened. It will go away. These things die down. Maybe some of these people will look and see things on the site and learn. Maybe it will change someone in a positive way.

Then we get to Twin {D}. Well, that shit is over and done with.

We were talking, and I do frankly like to get the opinions of those in the legal community about this case. It gives me insight. I am willing and able to talk about it academically, even when it’s not the side I am arguing. I can handle opposing voices. I handle it either by citing law or saying, “I didn’t realize that,” and tucking it away as just another fact.

He said it was a shit case and you couldn’t get all 12 jurors. And then he picked it apart, and I’m case-lawing it and trying to explain trauma response, what VAWA says, and the clear definition of rape.

And he brings up things that are actually covered by law, such as rape shield and VAWA. Those laws were written to protect women in this situation—to make it clear this is illegal and you cannot argue it as a defense. It’s perception, not actual written law. The law is written to correct perception.

Then he said my favorite thing that men like to say to me in response to this:

“I’m afraid of what you would say about me or what videos you would clip.”

Yeah. The important part—making sure men are protected.

I am completely calm during this conversation. He is getting heated. I’m trying to explain.

Now, I believe him on the jury issue. He would know what a jury would and wouldn’t accept. My argument to that is expert witnesses and jury education. But what do I know? I’m not a fucking lawyer.

Then he starts in on what I’m doing to Ford, and isn’t he the Democratic candidate, and the election is polling so closely right now it could be a handful of votes, and I could be swaying people.

And then he went into how dare I put the entire state at risk because Ford did the right thing not prosecuting the case—it was a loser.

Then he told me never to contact him again.

He did give the actual answer, though. Here is what he said:

“You just looking at the evening in question and the number of people participating—are you seriously gonna tell me you don’t understand why this is a monumentally shitty case where they would never get a conviction? How many of the jurors would blame you for what’s happening just based upon their perception of your character—two, five, ten? How many of them are guaranteed to say—even if they believe it was rape—‘she deserved it.’”

She. Deserved. It.

Yup. That’s why I keep fighting. Because no one should ever believe that a woman deserves that. I appreciate him saying it bluntly. I know that is what people think. That doesn’t make the trauma on the woman any less. It doesn’t make it just. It doesn’t mean that a prosecutor should just ignore the case.

It’s all covered by law.

She deserved it.

I’m just going to stop there.

Merry Christmas.