I’ve stayed relatively quiet in the political theater lately because, like thousands of others locally, I’ve been fighting battles that most people never have the courage or platform to discuss publicly. While many of my own struggles are still unfolding in a court of law, what happened yesterday was so deeply repulsive that silence is no longer felt acceptable.

My first reaction was rage toward a man who put his entire family at risk for a mission driven by motives and targets still not fully understood. Seven children were forced to witness violence, fear, and the horrifying possibility of future violence firsthand. Guns, explosives, ideology—details that paint only part of the trauma. Reports indicate these children may have then been victimized again, blamed by the very woman within that household who should have been their protector. I cannot begin to comprehend the psychological torment that could lead someone to such a place, but it is a painful reminder that domestic violence is never simple. It is never one-size-fits-all. Every situation carries its own devastating complexities.

But my disgust did not end there.

What may be even more disturbing is the exploitation of this tragedy for political gain. Seven children and one woman, regardless of her level of complicity, will carry the scars of this horror for the rest of their lives. Yet someone chose to stand before the public and use their suffering as an opportunity for a political smear campaign, redirecting attention away from the tragedy itself and toward personal agendas. Rather than informing the public, this individual introduced a red herring, weaponizing domestic violence to score political points.

This is not new behavior.

This is the same man who previously politicized my own family’s trauma for personal and political cannon fodder. The same man whose own history has raised serious concerns within the community, including troubling allegations involving children, surveillance, and inappropriate conduct surrounding cameras installed in public spaces. When someone repeatedly manipulates trauma (whether personal, communal, or catastrophic) for self-serving narratives, the pattern becomes impossible to ignore.

And now, this same figure seeks to position himself as a public champion against domestic violence.

Ask yourself: what is he trying to distract you from?

I am exhausted by the funhouse mirrors, the manufactured outrage, and the constant sideshows. Survivors of domestic violence do not want their trauma used as campaign material. Victims often stay silent precisely because public exploitation of their pain is so common and so brutal. What I endured personally is proof of that. With the events of yesterday, the children who have just lost their father in an act of violence deserve compassion, protection, and healing—not to be transformed into political ammunition.

The reality is this: a man currently in office with a decades-old domestic violence conviction served his legal consequences, ended that chapter of his life, and moved forward. Whether people choose forgiveness is their own decision. But weaponizing a 20-year-old conviction during a present-day tragedy is not advocacy—it is opportunism.

And when the loudest accuser may himself reside in a glass house, his stones are not acts of justice. They are acts of diversion.

Women, especially those who have survived manipulation and abuse, often recognize exploitation when they see it. We know the signs. We know the rhetoric. We know when someone’s outrage is performative rather than principled.

Ultimately, this is not about protecting victims. It is about controlling narratives.

And when one man in a glass house throws stones at another, it is often because he is desperate to keep the public from examining the cracks in his own foundation.