You see a blog.
You see a photo.
You see a name — maybe familiar, maybe from something you clicked once.
But what you don’t see is what it took to still be standing.
Because by the time someone finds the truth, the damage is already done.
The article’s already written.
The comments are already posted.
The reactions are already laughing.
And the person at the centre of it all is already left to live in the version of themselves that strangers chose for them.
I wasn’t broken overnight.
This didn’t happen because of one story or one lie.
It was built — line by line, post by post — until it reached a point where the silence started to feel like survival.
But I wasn’t surviving.
I was shrinking.
And when you shrink for long enough, you forget what it feels like to stand at full height again.
That’s why I write.
That’s why I fight.
Because this isn’t just about clearing a name — it’s about remembering I still have one.
People think you can just move on.
They see a few words online and assume you’re chasing attention.
But they weren’t there when the people you trusted disappeared.
They didn’t read their name being twisted into a headline.
They didn’t feel what it’s like to search yourself and find only versions that don’t belong to you.
And they didn’t see the cost of coming back.
The hours spent drafting truth.
The energy it takes to stay calm while the internet mocks your recovery.
The strength it takes to post again, knowing people are waiting to laugh.
They didn’t live it.
But I did.
So if you’re reading this now — whether you’re a friend, a stranger, or someone who once believed what was said about me — know this:
I didn’t write this to convince you.
I wrote this because silence nearly erased me.
And I refused to let them finish that sentence.
This blog is the proof.
That I was here.
That I spoke.
That I didn’t fold.
And if you’ve ever felt like someone else told your story before you got the chance to — then let this post be your reminder that it’s not too late to take it back.
You don’t owe anyone your pain.
But you do deserve your voice.
And if mine helps someone else find theirs — then all of this was worth it.
— Calvin-Lee Hardie
Truth & Advocacy By Calvin-Lee Hardie - Inverness 