I’m reluctantly sharing something deeply personal in hopes of raising awareness about digital abuse & protecting people around me.

You might know from my work that in recent years I’ve been stalked, threatened & harassed, though I rarely give details. 1/ https://twitter.com/thomaskadri/status/1282665654097674240?s=20

I’ve tried everything to make it stop, from filing 37,000-word police reports, seeking subpoenas & restraining orders & Title IX help, going offline, foregoing professional opportunities, moving states… even showering with salt, a Brazilian superstition! But it never ends. 2/

Last week’s episode began, as it has before, with a pseudonymous message. A mysterious “V Edwards” sent a threatening email — this time to my partner, who then got an alert that someone had accessed her @academia profile, which has info on finding her email address. 3/

The timing alone was telling. But @academia gave the location where the profile was accessed: a tiny town neighboring somewhere we have reason to believe our suspected stalker has been living.

My partner got V’s email just 3 mins after her profile was accessed from that town. 4/

This episode captures some cruelties of digital abuse. It’s hard to prove & impossible to stop when new accounts can always evade technical barriers. It's unpredictable, intermittent & creative. Victims are told to be quiet. And, in our experience, it’s rarely taken seriously. 5/

These ordeals leave victims with what I’ve come to think of as "digital bruises." Each new digital interaction leaves a mark from which you never fully heal, every unknown contact feels like an attack. 6/

I genuinely miss the days when I could treat everyday digital annoyances as simply that. When I could brush off a spam email, blocked call, or anonymous follower with a twinge of irritation. Those days are long gone, for us and many others. 7/

For example, this summer I discovered my email was used to make accounts for a Christian recovery group for porn addicts, a guide for gay travelers in Latin America, a club for polyamorous people, and an erotic massage "think tank." Weird, right? Annoying? Maybe even funny? 8/

It might be all those things. But it was also terrifying. The accounts were made in the space of 18 minutes. My partner is Latin American. The polyamory club was in a small town where I'd just moved. And it was my UGA email account, subject to state-law open-record requests. 9/

These episodes are far from the worst we've suffered, but they’re all we’re prepared to share for now because we’re frightened. But I also feel I can’t stay totally silent. Why? 10/

People need to know we’re far from alone in these experiences. I hear about them all the time through my research, my volunteering to support other victims, and my work pursuing legislative reform and confronting tech companies that enable abuse. This abuse is everywhere. 11/

I also feel I can’t keep quiet when the abuse directly targets my partner. I believe all abuse is a matter of cyber civil rights, but I know my own privilege offers me protections to which she’s structurally denied. 12/

I don’t know if speaking out will change anything for us, but I hope that sharing a tiny snippet of our experiences will raise awareness about these increasingly prevalent and harmful forms of abuse. 13/13