Don’t Tell? Not On Your Life.
I received an email at work yesterday. At the end of it, I was clearly instructed to not tell anyone. I am, therefore, telling everyone.
This email claimed to be from a person who had hacked into my computer system many months ago and had been watching me ever since. They said they had access to all my systems and all my devices, and had my entire browsing history recorded and on video. They claimed to have a record of all the porn sites I had visited, and supplied in graphic detail the things they claimed I was watching. They claimed, also described in graphic detail, videos they had of me.
I would like to take a moment to assure you that there is zero chance that any of this is true.
The author of the email then demanded that I pay $960 USD in Bitcoin to make it all go away. (If you read my post on things I don’t understand, you will know that I am not friends with Bitcoin, so even if I was so inclined, it wouldn’t happen.) They said not to tell the police or to tell my friends. My immediate decision was to tell my boss, just so he knew it was out there, in case anyone else in the company received one. So I tried to forward the email but it bounced back. It would not allow me to forward it.
I have to admit, this creeped me out just a bit. But, did you know, it is possible to send an email to someone and set the parameters of that email such that the recipient is unable to forward it? It’s true. I looked it up.
In spite of the fact that I was and am 100% sure that this was a fake and that I had (and have) nothing to hide, I was embarrassed. It was filthy, and gross. I felt violated. After the initial attempt to forward the email, I thought about not telling anyone. But stuff like this? It thrives in secrecy. This is what the whole Me Too movement was about. It you feel violated, if someone is after you, abusing you, or if you just feel uncomfortable with a situation, tell someone. Tell your boss, your parents, your siblings, your friends. Tell the police, your pastor, your teacher, your spouse. Tell your therapist. Hell, tell your bartender if it helps. But tell someone. And then tell someone else. And someone else. And keep telling. Until someone hears you.
We are here. We are listening. And together, we have the power to make it stop.
Peace,
Kat