Greg* and I had known each other for nearly a decade, but it wasn't until February 2016 that we developed a romantic relationship. Initially, he took me out to lavish dinners, gave me gifts, and intruded himself into my life. Despite my gut feeling that something was wrong, the relationship progressed so quickly that I became suspicious because I had known him for years. I wanted to believe that he was that kind of person. But I soon found out that wasn't the case.

After about four months, I began to notice Greg's erratic behavior. Whenever I tried to address his emotional concerns, Greg would explode into explosive rage. On one occasion, he threw a boot at me. On another occasion, he threw a 60-pound piece of wooden artwork in my direction, nearly grazing my head. As these situations became more frequent, we began sleeping in separate rooms (he even punched a hole in the door to get at me). When I tried to leave the house, he threatened to hurt himself (he even hid my car keys so I couldn't go). Then he begged for forgiveness and it was the same thing all over again. When someone is psychologically abusing you, it erodes your sense of self-worth. About seven months later, we got engaged, but he immediately became nauseous and called off the engagement two weeks later. A month after proposing, I found out I was pregnant, but I knew I was in an environment that was unsafe for the baby.

I was eight months along when Greg left on a business trip. I called a few close friends and finally shared my concerns. They encouraged me. That night I started packing. I immediately left my apartment in California and emailed Greg and his family, telling them that I did not feel safe and that I needed to be in a peaceful place to give birth. I did not tell them where I was going. He then flew to New York City, where his mother lived. Over the next few weeks, Greg contacted me about 350 times via email, phone, text, and Facebook messages. He also openly defamed me by posting on Facebook that I had quit because I had a mental disorder or was missing.

I was nearing my due date at my mother's house when I opened an email supposedly from the Los Angeles Child Guidance Center. In fact, the email was not from Child Guidance, but from Greg. This was because within 20 minutes of opening the email, I received a Facebook message from Greg thanking me for checking his case with Child Guidance and saying that he knew I was in New York. [Editor's note: "Marie Claire" independently confirmed that this email address was not affiliated with the Los Angeles County Department of Children and Families.] I suspect that by simply opening the email, I inadvertently installed a tracking bug on my computer that allowed Greg to use my computer's IP address to determine my exact location. Embedded in the email was a link that said, "Click here to get information about your case." I feared the link might be a keylogger. If I had clicked on it (which I did not), everything I typed could have been monitored. I was scared.

I then filed a criminal complaint with the police for aggravated harassment. I reported that he had used unauthorized technology to track my location and used it to harass me. This type of incident can be difficult to prove: usually the police will say they can't do anything. This technology is uncharted territory. Furthermore, it can be a case of said or not said. I was referred to family court and told to seek an order of protection.

Two weeks before the birth, I went to the hospital for a checkup. My fear was palpable: I was emaciated and pale. I was emaciated, pale, and sleep deprived. I was referred to a social worker who helped women in need and told her what happened. I have access to email on my cell phone so there is a possibility that Greg could track me and know when I go into labor. She also recommended that I file for a restraining order.

In the case of cyberstalking, the best thing to do is to document all instances of harassment. The night before the birth, I stayed up until 4 a.m. printing out everything Greg had posted or sent me. Greg may have known when I would open the emails (the infected email I opened may have had that feature). The end result was a pile the size of a college textbook.

Ten days after I gave birth to my son, I went to court and filed a petition detailing the aforementioned abusive behavior, including the illegal tracking. The judge agreed, and a temporary restraining order was granted that day. At that point, the restraining order was served on Greg, who accepted it and is no longer allowed to approach me, contact me, or post about me on social media. The full restraining order was granted and remained in effect until March 2018. He chose to leave the country. I have not seen him since.

Rebuilding my life has been one of the most difficult things I have ever done, but it has been worth it. Today, my son and I are doing well. I volunteer for Safe Horizon, the largest victim services nonprofit in the United States, to educate people about abuse and cyberstalking. We need to hear more stories like this. The internet has become a tool that abusers can use against their victims, but there are also ways we can protect ourselves. I now use a VPN server to keep hackers from knowing where I am. Personally, after three years, I finally feel safe.

*Name has been changed.

This article originally appeared in the Fall 2020 issue of Marie Claire.

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