Standing Up to Abuse — And Refusing to Be Silenced

About three weeks ago, I became the target of a coordinated barrage of online abuse by supporters of a political campaign.

They made rape jokes. They doxxed me - posting a photo of my home before I had ever declared as a candidate. They mocked the death of my beloved dog, Fonzie.

I can deal with a lot. But seeing them turn a photo of my deceased dog into memes - and laughing at my grief - has kept me up at night. That cruelty is part of why I entered this race. Because people who’ve been through hell deserve to be heard.

As a survivor of sexual assault, watching supporters of a Democratic candidate for Illinois’ 9th District joke about rape was retraumatizing and sickening. And the campaign’s response? Silence. No condemnation. No accountability.

These same online abusers are not fringe actors - they are donors, followers, and digital cheerleaders who help boost the candidate’s posts and presence. The campaign happily takes their money, engagement, and amplification - but refuses to take any responsibility for the harm they cause. Because clicks and dollars matter more than people.

Instead of confronting the abuse, this wealthy candidate chose to use their resources to file a “stalking no contact order” against me - not because I posed any physical threat, but because I protested. Because I told the truth. And voters listened.

They even tried to have police remove me from a peaceful protest. Officers asked if I was “on medication,” or if I “wanted to speak to someone.” That’s how I was treated - for standing outside and speaking up, like queer activists, labor organizers, and survivors before me. Many voters told me I should run. And after experiencing this attempt to silence me, I knew they were right.

I’ve removed identifying information about the campaign out of respect for the legal boundaries imposed on me. But I will not shield the people who made rape jokes and belittled my pain. Their words speak for themselves.

I’m sharing screenshots and protest photos not to cause drama - but because the truth matters. And District 9 deserves to see it. These are matters of public concern protected by the Supreme Court and our Constitution.

If the Supreme Court says, in Snyder v. Phelps, that the Westboro Baptist Church has a right to protest the funerals of queer people and veterans, then surely a wealthy, straight, cisgender political candidate can tolerate protest from a transgender sexual assault survivor - especially when that protest is about their silence in the face of rape jokes and voter harassment by their own supporters from out of state.

If queer people must endure that kind of cruelty in both life and death, no aspiring public servant should be shielded from basic public accountability.

I’m a trans woman running for Congress. Candidates don’t have to live here by law I’ve discovered, but I do. This is my home. I live in this district. I intend to live here for the rest of my life. My husband and I fully expect that protesters may show up at our home during this campaign. Once supporters of that campaign doxxed me, my safety went out the window. So if I can’t be safe in my own home by staying out of politics, then I knew I had to jump in.

This is about more than a campaign though. It’s about how power is used - and who gets protected when it’s abused.

District Nine deserves better. And I won’t stop telling the truth, but I will abide by the limitations that have so far been placed upon me.