Survivors Stories

 

You are not alone. And you are not invisible.

The stories shared here come from survivors of online harassment, stalking, impersonation, threats, and coordinated abuse. Each story represents a real person — and real harm — often carried in silence.

This page exists to make those experiences visible, human, and impossible to dismiss.

Why Survivor Stories Matter

Online abuse is often minimized, dismissed, or treated as “just the internet.”

 

Survivor stories show the reality behind the screen:

  • The emotional toll
  • The fear and isolation
  • The impact on work, family, and mental health
  • The strength it takes to speak out

These stories help others feel seen — and help decision-makers understand why accountability and protection matter.

Privacy, Safety, and Respect

We take survivor safety seriously.

  • Stories are never published automatically
  • Submissions are reviewed before posting
  • Identifying details are removed or anonymized
  • Survivors choose how they are identified
  • Public comments are disabled to prevent harassment

This is a protected space. Harassment, disbelief, or victim-blaming have no place here.

Share Your Story

If you are a survivor of online abuse and would like to share your experience, you can submit your story privately, using the Survivor story form.

You may:

  • Share anonymously
  • Use a first name or alias
  • Ask to be contacted before publication

Your submission comes directly to us for review. You remain in control.

 

My Story

This did not begin as an online disagreement.

 

It began when I set boundaries.

One individual believed she had the right to monitor everything I did online. That belief was rooted in her own personal circumstances, not in any conflict with me. When I made it clear that this level of monitoring was not acceptable, the response was retaliation.

Others became involved after I blocked them for violating my boundaries offline. Rather than respect those boundaries, they treated being blocked as an invitation to escalate.

What followed was coordinated harassment.

Private group spaces were created where my life was monitored in detail. My livestreams and videos were routinely recorded—often in real time—and systematically stored. Entire collections of my content were archived and kept in shared cloud storage, including Google Drives. This was not passive viewing; it was intentional data collection. Alongside my content, personal and private information was gathered and stored. This included details about my income, my online audience, and my family members—people who had no involvement and gave no consent. My followers and subscribers were actively monitored and discussed. There were conversations about how to interfere with my work and intentionally affect my ability to earn a living.

In those same spaces, there were explicit discussions about physical harm, including statements about killing me. My grief was mocked. Deeply personal losses were treated as entertainment. The behavior was not about communication or disagreement—it was about control, punishment, and intimidation.

I tried every reasonable response.

I stayed silent. That did not stop it.

I set firm boundaries and blocked those involved. That did not stop it.

I stood up for myself publicly and attempted to bring awareness to what was happening—carefully pointing out who was involved and using their own words to show others the reality of what was being done to me. That did not stop it.

I documented everything. I contacted platforms. I went to law enforcement. I sought legal guidance. None of it stopped the behavior.

What became clear was that no single response was effective because the systems meant to protect people were not built to address sustained, digital harassment between adults—especially when it is coordinated, retaliatory, and ongoing.

Living with the knowledge that people are recording you, storing your content, tracking your income, and collecting information about your family changes how you move through the world. I became acutely aware of every post, every livestream, and every unfamiliar name in my viewers. Even when I logged off, the sense of being watched remained.

Because I am an adult, the harm was often minimized. Because it happened online, it was treated as less real. But when people record and store your life, discuss harming you, monitor your livelihood, and target your family, the impact is neither abstract nor harmless. It affects safety, stability, and well-being.

This experience showed me how easily accountability fails—and how often silence protects those who violate boundaries.

That is why I am sharing my story.

Voices Unhidden exists because blocking should mean stop. Because standing up for yourself should not lead to punishment. And because adults deserve meaningful protection from harassment just as much as anyone else.

If you recognize yourself in any part of this story, please know this: you are not overreacting. You are not imagining the harm. And you are not alone.

Your voice matters. And it deserves to be heard—without fear.