Trigger warning: This is a true story about my experience with a stalker. It includes mentions of domestic abuse, manipulation, threats, homicide-suicide, and violence.

It’s not an easy read, but it’s a real one. I’m sharing what it felt like to survive something I never thought I’d experience — in case my story helps someone else see the signs sooner, listen to their gut, or find the courage to walk away.

Read with care, and please protect your peace.

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🔪 The Mask Slipped

I was mentally and physically exhausted. This was our last night in Mexico after months of traveling, and I was desperate to get home. What I didn’t know was that the man I shared this trip with was about to show me his true self—the person every true crime story warns you about.

It was another fight. The kind that loops, louder each time, until the words mean nothing. I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, so I stayed quiet. I thought silence would end it. It didn’t. It only made him angrier.

He moved around the Airbnb while I tried to focus on my computer. I heard him rummaging through the drawers, metal scraping. Then a door slammed.

He was in the bathroom now, I could hear voices, low and frantic. His phone was still on the kitchen counter. It didn’t help that it was literally November 1st, the Day of the Dead, in Mexico. I went to put my ear against the door and it was like hearing two people have a conversation. I couldn’t make out much other than “Do it. Just do it.” That’s when I realized… something was terribly wrong.

I thought to myself, “Oh helllllll no! This dude is f—ing crazy!” I grabbed my phone and ran outside. I was freaking out and could barely get the words out as I called his cousin.

“We’ve been arguing the last couple of weeks and he’s been acting really weird,” I said.

Then out of nowhere, I heard his voice, “Who are you talking to?” I jumped. I was paralyzed. When I turned to face him, he seemed eerily calm. The shift in his demeanor, from frantic to flat-out terrifying, was disturbing. I stammered, asking if he was okay. He stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

I continued to talk to his cousin on the phone telling her, “Last week, he told me he was going to kill himself. I told him if this happens again, I have to involve the authorities and his family. He said he was fine, but today it happened again. I don’t know what to do.” I felt my phone buzzing repeatedly. It was him. I burst into tears as I read the frantic messages to his cousin:

 

He was sending a series of texts and a screenshot of the date—November 1st, the Day of the Dead. I realized he wasn’t just counting down to midnight; he was using the most ominous day possible to make his threat.

I told her, “I’m scared. I don’t know who this person is anymore. It’s like he’s possessed.”

Then I looked back toward the Airbnb, I saw him through the window—standing there, staring at me dead in the eye as he was holding a knife in one hand and sharpening it with the other. Seeing that was one of the scariest things I have ever seen in my life. In the movies, you know you’re safe, because you know it’s not real. But this very much was. This was someone who could actually kill me. That image is burned into me—the moment I realized fear has a face.

I ran. Barefoot, phone in hand, to the front desk. My voice was shaking as I tried to explain what was happening. Security went to check. They came back saying everything was fine, that he was calm now. I insisted, “Something is not right! He was talking to himself in the bathroom and then he was sharpening a knife at the window!” They went back, assured me they took away everything that could be used as a weapon, and promised to monitor the premises and walk around every hour. I told them, if I turn up dead, it’s on them.

I went back because I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know what came over me, but all that talk of demons made me turn to God. I told him to remember who he was. “Demons only go after those who let them take them,” I said. “But the demons chose the wrong one today. Let’s pray.”

We kneeled at the edge of the bed and repeated “Our Father” and “Hail Mary.” We prayed to fill the air with anything but fear, and honestly, my internal dialogue was screaming, “Lord, please don’t let this man kill me tonight.”

Then we slept, or pretended to, and caught our flight the next morning barely saying a word.

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🎮 Let’s Play a Game

When we got back, I stayed in contact out of compassion, trying to make sure he got the professional help he so clearly needed. But he quickly fell back into the same destructive patterns—the paranoia, the emotional manipulation, the guilt trips—and I fell back into the same cycle of anxiety and fear.

Every time I created distance, weird things would happen. He always seemed to know where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with. I started getting suspicious login notifications from my Facebook and Instagram, and soon realized he had compromised all of my accounts, including my iCloud.

I sent him an email, clearly stating that I was moving on and demanding he respect my privacy. His immediate response showed he was fully committed to terrifying me: He knew my new apartment’s exact unit number and sent a text saying he would find his way in. I was starting to get really concerned. Seeing my private address compromised meant the danger was now truly immediate.

I lived in a guard-gated community. He was obviously finding ways to sneak in—security later admitted he had used my ID to gain access once. One day, I found his car parked in my space. Then a package appeared at my door—random items with notes I didn’t want to read. It had no postage, confirming he placed it there himself.

I had been holding onto hope that he would accept help. But as his actions became more invasive and his behavior more disturbing, I had to firmly draw the line. I stopped responding to him.

He just continued to spiral. The messages were a relentless descent into psychosis. He threatened to kill himself several times—even with my friends. It wasn’t just me he tried to control anymore; he started pulling everyone around me into his chaos. Every message felt like walking through a minefield. I never knew which version of him I’d get—the apologetic one, or the one trying to break me down.

My friends were at my place regularly for support. One of the nights they were over, he messaged our mutual friend claiming he was in the middle of the desert, saw a girl in a white dress, and was “hanging out with demons.” He specifically confessed to my friend that the demons were telling him to ‘do it’.

The air in my apartment became thick with dread. We all realized how truly unstable he was. My friends and I immediately barricaded the door and were on edge all night, not knowing what to expect. We barely slept.

I kept distancing myself, but that only made him more unstable until he finally snapped. The messages instantly turned vicious. They went from, “please give me a chance,” to, “you’re a hoe.”

“If you think I’m psycho, I think I’m psycho. I feel delusional and crazy.”

In another message, he warned: “He will be coming tonight,” attaching a scary photo of a creepy doll. “The psycho you’re asking for.”

He continued sending texts with scary images, and I had no idea what was going through his head. It wasn’t until much later that I realized he wasn’t just deliberately instilling fear in me. He was getting ready to “play”.

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🤡 The Psycho Is Coming Tonight

The harassment was constant. I was receiving nonstop phone calls from blocked numbers—they wouldn’t stop ringing. I was forced to turn my phone off entirely, just before the next terror began.

I was trying to relax at home on the couch when I saw movement at my window right next to me. Then, the doorbell rang—it was him, uninvited, unannounced, somehow past the security gate—and he was pressing digits into my keypad door lock, trying to get in. He kept relentlessly ringing the doorbell and pressing the digits over and over. It was in that moment where the stories about obsessive exes and stalkers who say, “If I can’t have you, nobody else can”, rushed back to me. I immediately called security AND the police, filed reports, and did everything by the book. But the nightmare did not stop there.

Messages started coming in with bloody clowns, one reading: “Let’s play a guessing game while you sit on your TRO. when would be a good day.. Your playhouse looks like this to me. Have a good life 🤡🤡🤡🤡 Byeee.”

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And he meant it.

For days, I couldn’t sleep; I was terrified for my life. Every sound, every vibration, every footstep I heard from my neighbors immediately triggered my fear. He wanted to make it clear I was not safe—not even in my own home. When I finally managed to fall asleep, I had nightmares—vivid, relentless ones—or was woken up by my Roomba starting in the middle of the night or my Sonos speakers blasting random music at full volume. He had weaponized my smart home. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, convinced he was hiding behind every corner, even when walking my dog. I lived in a constant state of fear, mapping out every possible way he would break into my apartment to finish what he started.

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The Line I Drew to Save My Life

Then came the next betrayal. Desperate for support, I reached out to my brother, hoping he would come down to stay with me. He coldly told me he had spoken with the stalker and didn’t want to get involved. He then delivered the final stab:

“You need to stop abusing him.”

He blocked me immediately after. I had never laid a finger on him, but he had somehow weaponized his lies and turned my own family against me. The isolation was crushing.

I found out he and a close girlfriend had combined forces, and someone I thought was loyal became one of my worst enemies overnight. Then, models and photographers began messaging me, saying he reached out to them for photo shoots, using my name as a reference. Finally, a girlfriend called. She said he’d reached out to her, twisting stories and falsely claiming he had walked in on me having sex with another man.

That was the moment fear turned into anger — not just anger, but PURE rage.

Rage that he had taken so much from me. Rage that my kindness, my empathy, had been weaponized against me. Rage that he had so violently betrayed my trust. I had sacrificed my own peace and my safety out of compassion and care. To know he had invaded my privacy, used my private thoughts, and weaponized my vulnerability and his own mental health crisis—to try and control me and run a smear campaign against me, was the final, unforgivable act.

He was the one who slowly drove away every ounce of patience, empathy, and compassion I had. That was the gift of the betrayal: it burned away every last bit of fear. After days of living in terror, that fear finally crystallized into pure, decisive, unshakeable rage.

I stopped waiting for peace to find me and decided to create it myself.

Fear doesn’t live here anymore. I do.

To Be Continued…

xo, Ria

She’s not just pretty — she fights back.

If this story hit close to home, you can read how I finally fought back and reclaimed my power in Part 2: Fear Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.

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🖤 A Note From the Author & Resources

If this resonated with you, please know that you are not alone. Sharing my real life stalker story was done not just for my own healing, but for awareness and education. Abuse is not always physical; psychological and digital control can be just as terrifying and damaging.

If you recognize these behaviors in your own relationship or the relationship of someone you know, please reach out for help. There are resources that can help you create a safety plan and find peace. You deserve to be safe and heard.

🚨 Resources for Safety & Support

If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, please call 911.

• National Domestic Violence Hotline
  • Confidential support, safety planning, and resources.
  • Call 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE)
  • Text START to 88788
• RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network)
  • The largest anti-sexual violence organization.
  • Call 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)
• Crisis Text Line
  • Free, confidential support for anyone in crisis.
  • Text HOME to 741741
• National Stalking Resource Center
  • Information and resources on creating safety plans related to stalking.
  • Visit VictimConnect.org

🛠️ Digital Safety Resources

• Tech Safety & Privacy: Offers resources on how to check for spyware, secure devices, and manage digital privacy. Search online for the “Tech Safety NNEDV” (National Network to End Domestic Violence) website for comprehensive guides.
• Security Check: If you are concerned your device is monitored, avoid using it to research help. Instead, use a secure device (like a friend’s phone or a public library computer) to contact resources.