You Can’t Fact-Check a Feeling, But They Tried to Convict Me With One

You Can’t Fact-Check a Feeling, But They Tried to Convict Me With One

There was never a court.

No judge.

No trial.

But the sentence came anyway.

Not carved in law —

carved into search results.

Into whispers.

Into messages I’ll never see but still feel echoing in rooms I’ll never enter.

They didn’t prove anything.

They didn’t need to.

Because the damage wasn’t built on evidence.

It was built on implication.

And the world is far more comfortable believing a vibe than verifying a fact.

They felt something about me.

Discomfort. Disapproval. Resentment.

And that feeling became truth in their mouths.

“I just heard…”

“Someone said…”

“It’s all over the internet…”

That’s not testimony.

That’s infection.

And it spreads faster than any correction ever will.

I became guilty by association — with my own name.

And no one wanted to be caught defending someone who made people “feel unsafe.”

Not because I was.

But because someone said I was.

And that was all it took.

There’s no appeals process in digital defamation.

No jury instructions.

No “innocent until proven otherwise.”

Only clicks.

Only screenshots.

Only silence from the people who used to believe in you —

until someone else made them feel “off” about it.

They didn’t ruin me with evidence.

They ruined me with suggestion.

With language that felt like warning sirens —

but never actually said anything concrete.

Because that’s the trick of a digital witch hunt:

If you never say anything fully,

you never have to admit you were fully wrong.

This is why I’m still writing.

This is why I’ve built an archive.

This is why The Long Return isn’t just reflection — it’s reconstruction.

I’m not trying to convince them anymore.

I’m leaving a permanent record — one strong enough that when someone finally asks what really happened,

there’s something left to find that wasn’t filtered through their fear.

This post is for anyone who was ruined by something you can’t touch.

Who lost everything because someone else “felt weird” about you.

Who tried to scream the truth,

but found the world only listens to stories that come with an accusation.

This is your reminder:

A feeling isn’t a fact.

A rumour isn’t a record.

And what they say about you isn’t more real than what you survive.

I wasn’t convicted.

But I was punished.

And now I’m publishing the evidence

they hoped would never exist.