To get to my blog here….either it comes up in a search of some sort (keywords, tags, random through WP, or linked in another post), I give you the blog name/location, or you do a search using another handle I have…but you would have to know that other handle to begin with.
Search the handle from the fuck finders site will get you 2 Adult content blogs as well as various other adult content. Read at your own risk. Searching a 2nd handle I use will not get any blog written by me. And you will never get my real name with either of the first two. Simple enough…not foolproof by any means for the serious stalker…but then again…virtually nothing will protect you if someone wants to find you.
Do I sound paranoid, yet? Honestly, I’m not overly concerned. I don’t live paranoia mode in any faucet of my life. Precautionary has its advantage in certain situations. I simply do not need my employer finding me on the web in a less than professional capacity. Actually, I don’t need anyone finding me on the web unless I want them to….so why make it easy?
The point of this…a few weeks ago an intimate friend told me his recent ex-girlfriend read my blog here just after I returned from Colorado in July. She once again admitted to snooping through his “stuff” while venting her jealousy issues. He didn’t immediately tell me for fear I would hesitate writing. And I suspect because he also didn’t want to hear me express emotion through – but not meant for – him. It is abundantly clear she took my fuck finders handle from a blog there and used it to search me. I did have an initial moment of fear over what she found. My letters to him containing my real name and address on the envelope?
I’m still feeling a bit prickly about it all. The intent…Yep it’s the intent I don’t care for. She told him about it after the fact. As if she wanted that message passed along. Last time I visited, she left a message for him in lipstick *laughs* in the corner of the bathroom mirror…the bathroom he doesn’t usually use. But she told him she left a message for me and wouldn’t say anything more except that I would see it.
It feels like my mail has been opened and then resealed in the half-assed manner of one who wants to be caught. Like the peeping tom who knocks on the window to get your attention just before he flees…
Funny…it’s only called stalking when someone lets you know they’ve been doing it because the method and the intent is wholly designed to make another feel un-easy, un-comfortable and in some cases fearful in their own space.
Power is taken where power is given.
I really needed to put this out there in order to help end the power I find myself giving it all.