The Big It Happened To Me Finale: The FBI Contacted Me After My Boyfriend's Exes Doxxed Me Here And In Other Publications
The exes' threats against me escalated. Then I got the call that a report was filed against Ricky under MY name, using my birthdate and phone number. PLUS some support from Jane
Hi there, weirdos!
Just before we jump into today's “shocking conclusion” (the language from all of those Bachelor episodes I will separately defend to you having watched, is really coming in handy for this series), here are a couple of the usual notes from me to you - plus one that is highly unusual:
I am still getting my voice back after that most fun ever party with all of you and all of us this past Tuesday. I hadn't realized how glorious it would be to see live all of your faces and your beautiful styles and your hilarious ways of expressing yourselves that I had only seen before in text and still images. What a true joy you all are and I can now definitively say that this AJPT community is hands-down my favorite of any publications’ so far. (Not just my own – any publication ever in the history of the publishing landscape. Including the clever groups hanging around the wall of the latest cave writing.)
Lucky for us both, there is another virtual party happening this coming Wednesday the 26th at 8 PM. So come back or come for the first time, but come! It's so much fun, as I said, and there will be more special guests and more old Sassy, Jane, and xoJane stuff to give away. (Don't forget to wear your Sassy T-shirt if you want extra swag potential.)
And though this was originally going to just be a happy Friday lovefest of a note, in the last day I've heard from at least one of you with some concerns related to the story series that you are about to conclude right now. I totally understand worrying about interaction you have had in the comments with people who are taking their actions to levels with the author (Sarah, below) that got so heavy that the FBI got involved. I of course, want to protect you however possible. If you feel unsafe at all, please email me at jane@anotherjaneprattthing.com immediately and I will take steps to block anyone who is threatening you or making you feel less than secure - in any way.
Now, back to your weekends and enjoying this conclusion to our best-read series to date. See you Wednesday and we’ll talk many more times before, of course!
Love to you always in all the ways (spoken like the dork I am),
Jane
By: Sarah Swinwood
Welcome to Part 4, the grand finale of this somewhat sensationalistic saga (sss!) that has sparked such hot conversation in the comment sections. Thank you to all of the readers who have come along for the ride (here are Part 1 and Part 2) and for seeing beyond the headlines to the empathy that lives inside my narrative. Though these women have called me many unsavoury names, the one that was used in the headline of Part 3, I asked Jane to change. The derogatory terms these women spew are not in my lexicon. I felt uncomfortable sharing the piece with such an outdated word under my name.
It’s important to me that I set the tone here, not them. [And, though I believed in exposing what they were doing and relaying it accurately, I absolutely changed the word because it's way more important not to re-traumatize you and for you to set the tone, as you said. I was so glad you pointed it out. – Jane].
Messages saying how relatable this was surprised me. I haven’t seen anything to this extreme in my adult life, so I’m grateful if it helped bring relief and healing. Some readers wondered if vocalizing this somehow made things worse, especially after the exes found it. The two of them chimed in with their thoughts on Part 2, outing true identities and doxing in the comments (even fabricating a fake lawyer profile who offered to take on “Sadie’s case” free of charge!) to which one of our followers, James posted:
“Dear lawyer, we have some questions…”
Rachel, another follower wrote: “I'm really invested in the story, but it makes me sad. You’re such a cool and genuinely nice person. You don’t deserve to be harassed by two strangers.”
Do any of us? If you ever find yourself in my position, remember not to take it personally. I assured Rachel that it didn’t happen to me, I observed it. I took notes as it was happening, ultimately crafting this story for you to read. Publishing it didn’t end up making things worse but put a stop to it. Though Veronica was more vicious in her approach, it was Sadie who gave her my phone number, spearheading this entire harassment campaign. Ricky read me Sadie’s last text message to him saying:
“Why is your girlfriend so obsessed with me? Doesn’t she have anything else to write about? I didn’t even read them. It was Veronica and my daughter who messaged her, not me. I don’t care about her, I just want my stuff back.” Her choice to deny it all must’ve meant she reevaluated her technique. He hasn’t replied or spoken to her in months, but she’s not blocked and I understand why.
This is not exactly the type of story I imagined would give me the platform I’ve been seeking, bringing in the readership and audience I’ve desired. I have a boatload of other stories that I’m ready to share that will leave readers with more hope than cringe. Sharing this is my way of reclaiming my voice in contrast to the exes' rampant verbal assault. Instead of replying to their text messages, I responded by making it clear where I stand. I write primarily nonfiction. I also have a strong creative community who have my back, supporting me in speaking my truth and standing up to these bullies. These women wanted me to go away, be quiet and leave Ricky alone.
“Just to make it clear, I don’t want him back.” Sadie commented on Part 2. Why would someone who doesn’t want their ex back incessantly message and phone his current girlfriend, someone she doesn’t know? Exactly. She’s stopped now, leaving us with the lovely sound of crickets in a field. I carry no animosity, only gratitude for where this has brought me with regards to facing my own shadows.
I mentioned that this didn’t happen to me, I observed it. Sadie, after discovering my existence, was vibrating on a frequency of fear and control. She hadn’t spoken much at all with Ricky for almost two months when she found out about me, and they hadn’t been in an intimate relationship for well over a year. There had been no discussion between them about where they currently stood and no attempts by her to reconcile what they once had, if that’s what she wanted.
While Ricky was alarmed by Sadie’s reaction to him making it clear he was moving on, I sensed something of this caliber was coming. She had displayed several signs of not wanting to heal or let him go. Not curious about what was going on with him emotionally, I witnessed her berating and insulting him over the phone whenever he didn’t conduct himself in ways that met her demands. She had argued with his family during the Labor Day reunion up north (see part 3), accused Ricky of flirting with his cousin, then had such a meltdown that she left the gathering early. Up until then he thought they could be friends. He didn’t think it was possible after that.
Many readers wondered if they would have stuck around after their contact began. Ricky and I were working through a philosophical discovery by then, an unspoken view of new potential. We carried some synchronized shadows; like being too generous without much space to receive. Varying shades of attempting to regulate our emotions or a let’s do this my way attitude. He’d raise his voice. I would stomp and cry sometimes, with quick reconciliation. I attributed it to toxic spillover from him and Sadie, who I reminded him I was not.
When readers were exposed to pieces of my experience firsthand with the exes’ commenting on Part 2, I got some messages:
“Why do they keep saying he’s messy?”
“Is it true he’s a drug dealer, wanted by the cops?”
“Some of this is just vicious. Why are they harassing you if they have so many horrible things to say about him? It doesn’t make sense.”
“If Sadie’s his current ex, what is Veronica getting out of this? What’s her agenda?”
There’s frequently a disconnect between who someone really is and the glass display cases others have placed them in, to keep them from growing. Ricky wasn’t messy to me - he drove a pick-up truck and spent most of the time in the country. He was earthy. Drug dealer was one of the things they kept saying to scare me away, saying it would negatively impact my life. Had they ever met a drug dealer? Spotting one is easy, a chief characteristic being that they sell drugs. There was a time when weed was illegal, but the laws have since changed.
They wanted to keep him frozen in a place of needing to prove himself to them that he was a good, loyal man who wasn’t going to let Sadie down. Veronica knew (begrudgingly) that Ricky would never date her again, her recourse being to befriend Sadie, his physical ideal in her mind, who she could live vicariously through as a sidekick and mediator. Maybe it made Sadie feel more confident being revered by Veronica, who served as her personal enforcer, willing to go after any woman in Ricky’s sphere that he got along with. No woman was immune; if there appeared to be camaraderie, cheating accusations followed while the perceived other woman would receive distressing phone calls to her place of employment.
So why was he still such a part of her life? She could be normal, he told me, or appear so for long periods of time. When he kept the peace, everyone was happy and he was still able to live pretty independently. She didn’t join him out for dinner, on trips to the country or walks around the park, preferring to stay at home. They knew each other when his younger brother died, his father, then his mother (who she helped care for), then a cousin. They weren’t together through all of it but she did have a habit of showing up and taking care of arrangements when he was dealing with a crisis. She’d lost family, too. It appeared he was adhering to a soul contract that had run its course, needing stronger self-esteem to make it clear he was moving on. They’d aim directly for his weaknesses when he suggested doing so. Hence the insults, they had worked before. The closer he and I grew, the less their games had power.
We weren’t head-over-heels, we were curious, finding more time to hang. I didn’t pry about Sadie or where it was going between us. There was a blend of uncanny synchronicities in our lives, some aligned and differing viewpoints as well as an increasing sense of excitement about what we enjoyed doing together. Driving through small towns, thrifting, exploring nature, checking out old dive bars and having dinner in the city. Ricky would laugh when we shared food, saying I was the first girl he’d gone out with whose appetite was as big as his. Our first meeting was at a restaurant, afterall.
Not dating until a year after that first encounter did feel fated but for what reason? When the girls launched their break them up routine, it pushed us closer. Death of so many of his immediate family members back to back coupled with Sadie’s rampant name-calling (scumbag, monster, piece of shit, cruel, incompetent), I started to feel protective. One would think it would have been the other way around, but they didn’t know me, so it came off as an attack against his desire to heal. We were equally appalled by the names they called me: homewrecker, d*** looking skank, loser, trash, dumb bitch, stain on society (never heard that one before). They focused on me as though I was the only reason he’d retreated, pushing him further away. The idea of something other than a human being altering his direction didn’t seem to occur to them, that maybe there was a higher force in his life that knew better than we did.
Spirit Guides, hinting at a greater purpose. The voice of his own soul, inner compass and intuition. When I care about someone, I seek to trust their choices even if they don’t make sense to me. Everyone has a life map that can only be read by themselves. Sometimes the greatest way to assist another is to imagine them surprising us with what happens when they trust their own instincts. If we think life will only succeed if they do it the way we want them to, we clip their wings and fold up our own.
But this was never about him, it was about them and the role they wanted him to play in their ongoing drama. It made me sad, a feeling that quickly dispelled when I was given evidence of Sadie contacting people I work with to harm my career, or worse.
Two days after I was told by an editor that Sadie had tried to comment under one of my published articles, I got a call from the FBI. Sadie had filed a report against Ricky using my name, birthdate and phone number.