Truth & Advocacy By Calvin-Lee Hardie – Inverness

There’s a different kind of noise online.

Not the kind that shouts — the kind that watches.

They don’t comment. They don’t engage.

They just observe, react, screenshot, laugh.

You know the type.

They scroll past everything else, but when it’s about you — they stop.

Not because they care. Not because they’re interested in the truth.

But because they’re invested in the version of you that suited them better.

And when you start speaking your own truth — calmly, consistently, unapologetically — they flinch.

And when they flinch, they laugh.

Because laughter is the last shield for people uncomfortable with truth.

Let me say this clearly:

I didn’t build this blog to impress strangers or to win over people who decided who I was before they ever met me.

I built it because I was misrepresented — publicly, permanently, and without consent.

And the same people who laugh now?

They said nothing when lies were being told.

They didn’t laugh when headlines got it wrong — they just watched.

So now, when I write, I’m not waiting for permission.

I’m not adjusting the volume for their comfort.

I’m not silencing myself because someone who never stood up for me might feel uneasy when I stand up for myself.

This blog is my right of reply.

It’s my record of truth.

It’s the voice I should’ve been allowed to have from the beginning — and it won’t be filtered to suit people who once benefitted from my silence.

Some of you watched the damage unfold.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t help.

But you’re watching now.

That tells me everything.

It tells me the story hit a nerve.

It tells me your interest isn’t gone — it’s just quieter now.

And it tells me that no matter how much people say they’ve moved on, they’re still deeply invested in the idea that I should’ve stayed quiet.

I didn’t.

And I won’t.

Because when people stop clapping and start laughing — that’s when the truth starts threatening them.

Because your silence was once their safety.

And now your voice is their discomfort.

So if you’re still watching — good.

You don’t have to like what I post.

You don’t have to share it.

But just know: you don’t own the story anymore.

And every time I hit “publish,” I take another piece of it back.

— Calvin-Lee