Sabrina M Taylor,
It’s a blessing you were in Japan without access to your usual resources, without a firm grasp of the language, and very little privacy…when the debt collectors legally removed 22,000 dollars from your bank account May 18th/19th.
You stayed in Japan. You stayed in near constant sight of at least one to three of the same people at over those next ten days . You stayed in online constant contact with at least two others in the area. People who knew each other …all witness to how your daily reality was in contrast with the life you were depicting on line.
You stayed in a place where you don’t have words.
You didn’t have have the wide space of Seattle or America. You were stripped of the vast social circles to get lost in, the “safe” places you draw from and hide in plain sight within, the luxury of time alone and people who might never meet and share their stories.
You had five people, some of them good friends with each other. Two of whom had known each other 20 years. Two others who’d known each other 11 years. You had the same rooms with some of them, the same day trips, the same upcoming destinations. You had no cover.
What’s amazing is that you stayed because you couldn’t give up your precious diversions of amusement parks, anime theme shops, and things you wanted to buy.
You overestimated yourself and didn’t understand the structures your grifting has previously required. You didn’t know how much of what you’ve done has relied on an infrastructure outside of your damaged shell of personhood. You emotionally manipulated and tied your witnesses tighter to you where nothing could go unseen.
You thought you were so central and important to each of them that they wouldn’t communicate with each other…they’d just believe you.
They saw that you were lying. That you were spinning out of control of your lies. They didn’t know how deep the lies would go.
You stayed for your precious toys and parks. Each lie you told them about each other, about your days next to them, the more they knew to dig into your past and present.
And, man, looking into your life is more terrifying than any fast-pass ride.
They tried to stay low. They sensed that to confront you would be dangerous. They didn’t know how dangerous. That also seems bottomless now. It is bottomless. You are dangerous.
The risk of being near you now. It’s physical now. It’s life shattering now.
You’ve hurt so many people…emotionally, financially, and physically.
The marginalized people you knew would not be heard so you sacrificed them, lied to them, and misrepresented them. You had no limits to who you’d wound. You’ve done unspeakable things.
Your victims and their groups of friends had previously been unable to reach one another, to be believed, to speak out and be heard, because of those scaffolds your con-artist life in America was built on. The distance. The unseen. The traumas people shared with you that you fed yourself off as to claim them as your own and force a bond. The way you’d find cracks and crawl into people’s vulnerabilities. Their kindness. Their compassion. Exploited the past they thought you shared. Bent the reality they thought they walked with you.
You had no limits to who you’d wound.
But those scaffolds were not in Japan. Not in the way you needed them. Not laid out in a pattern you could work.
In staying you created conditions for people to see you and be heard.. for your past and present victims to see and be heard..for those isolated and terrified to have hands to hold.
You’ve awakened so much past trauma. Your victims are hurt and angry and raw all over again.
That’s hard to see. It’s hard to be part of.
There is hope that from your hubris can come the tools for those betrayed to stand together.
There is hope for them to heal and be healed.
I don’t have such hopes for you.
You took so much but you’ve given them that now.
You did that.
You did so much…and now you did that.