“I stand here today before this court once again. Where justice and truth must meet. Where the echoes of fear still whisper through the corners of my mind and my streets.
I stand here today because my peace was stolen, piece by piece, post by post, message by message, until even silence felt unsafe.
For over two-and-a-half years, I was hunted through hashtags, chased through timelines, cornered in comment sections, my name dragged through the dirt of digital spaces that once held community but became cages of cruelty.
And though there were no fists, no footsteps behind me in the dark, the harm ran deeper. Because this kind of violence doesn’t leave bruises you can see.
It lives beneath the skin in the racing heart, in the sleepless nights, in the fear that flickers every time my phone lights up.
The internet was weaponised against me. Used to intimidate, to control, to humiliate. And each breach of bail – and there have been many -was a message in itself: ’I will not stop. I will not care. I can do what I like.’
And Your Honour, when the law is mocked, what hope is left for those of us it’s meant to protect?
I stand here today as a woman who has fought to keep living. Who’s tried to hold on to the calm, the strong, the certain one I used to be before this campaign of cruelty began.
But she’s tired now. Exhausted. Drained from waking each day to find the same lies still live online.
Pinned at the top of profiles. Poison at the top of the page. Defamatory words like stains that won’t wash out. Still there for the world to see. Still there every time I search my own name.
And what does that do? To a person’s work, to their reputation, to their sense of self?
It takes years to build a name and seconds to destroy it.
And when that destruction is public, when it’s shared and liked and amplified, it echoes through every corner of your life.
My family have seen it. My friends have felt it. My colleagues have watched me try to hold it all together and I’ve watched the hurt in their eyes as they saw how this broke me.
Enough is enough
I stand here today because I refuse to be defined by that. Because I choose to stand tall even shaking and say: Enough.
Because what happened to me is not just about me. It’s about every person whose name is dragged online, whose truth is twisted, whose safety is stolen through pixels and spite.
I stand here today to say: Digital stalking is still stalking.
That fear is real, even when the threats are typed, not spoken. That harm is harm, whether it’s hands or hashtags.
So I ask this court not for pity, but for justice. For recognition that the damage done here goes far beyond the screen. That these breaches, these choices, these acts of cruelty carry weight. Carry consequence.
I thank those who stood beside me the police, the legal teams, the friends who refused to look away. Because through all of this, I have learned I am not alone.
Survivor
I stand here today not as a victim, but as a survivor.
And though the scars remain, they are a map of strength, of truth, of resilience.
I stand here today to reclaim my voice. To turn pain into power. To look the world in the eye and say: You did not break me. You will not silence me. And justice must be done.”
Naomi Timperley’s victim statement (October 25th, 2025)