On May 20, I stood on the Capitol steps in Sacramento and met Senator Susan Rubio—a survivor like me, and a legislator unafraid to speak truth to power. I handed her a poem I wrote about survival, truth, and justice. She moved me deeply. For the first time in years, I felt truly seen by someone who understands what it means to survive not only abuse—but a system that too often protects the powerful and punishes the vulnerable.
I am currently navigating a divorce and domestic violence case in Santa Clara County Superior Court, and I am writing this not just as a survivor, but as a woman determined to expose the deep systemic failures that revictimize those the courts claim to protect.
I have endured financial abuse, legal abuse, and repeated violations of due process. The court notified my abuser of a protective order before I even received it myself. A judge struck a CCP § 170.1 disqualification motion that by law should have been reviewed by a neutral party. My abuser has lied on every financial disclosure, forged my name on a lease, and concealed income. Despite clear evidence, the court has allowed it all.
I have lost everything—my home, my storage, my health—and still the court refuses to enforce spousal support or alimony orders.
The corruption is not just confined to the bench. Clerks have tampered with my filings, used fraudulent file stamps, and lied about court signatures. A man impersonating a law enforcement officer misinformed me about my rights under the Domestic Violence Restraining Order (DVRO), despite having no legal authority or access to my case. Internal Affairs has dismissed my reports, and the District Attorney’s office refuses to investigate unless I provide a police report—something I cannot obtain because of ongoing failures in the CLETS system. The sheriff’s department has failed to register my restraining order after multiple documented requests.
This is not incompetence. This is systemic oppression.
And yet, I rise.
I write every legal motion myself. I represent myself in court. I have filed complaints with the Department of Justice, the Commission on Judicial Performance, the Sixth District Court of Appeal—and I document every abuse of power.
Because I feel called—deeply and irrevocably—to fight not just for myself, but for every survivor who has been revictimized by the very institutions that claim to serve justice.
I write in memory of Gloria Levit, whose name deserves to be spoken and remembered. I write for the women who will not survive long enough to file a motion, who will never see justice rendered in their lifetimes. I write in honor of my mother, who endured 64 years of abuse.
I am asking everyone to share my story—not for my sake alone, but for every disabled litigant, every pro per survivor, every woman who has screamed into a system that listens only to power.
Let us tell the truth together. Let us make it impossible for them to look away.
