I have particularly enjoyed a recent Guardian podcast Can I Tell You A Secret? The six-episode series by Sirin Kale delves deep into the story of Matthew Hardy, a cyberstalker who harassed people in his hometown of Northwich and beyond for some 11 years. The series is expertly crafted, giving a voice to the myriad women affected by Hardy’s insidious, ceaseless stalking. I have never been cyberstalked. I have, however, had a real-life stalker of sorts. Actually, several.
A casualty of growing up in the fundamentalist Christian sphere is that one frequently encounters adolescents (even adults) who have been taught to fear or avoid contact with the opposite sex. Having five brothers, I never felt any awkwardness when it came to socialising with male peers. That is, until I attended several Christian camps and encountered a number of undersocialised and over-Biblicised adolescents.
I was 11 years old the first time, at a Christian camp somewhere in the depths of the South Island. My memories are hazy besides those concerning the boy himself — anxiety has carved those indelibly into my frontal lobe. James* was probably nothing more than an overly-confident lovesick teenager, but he followed me everywhere — even to the bathroom. My brothers thought it was hilarious. They conspired to trap me in enclosed spaces, and probably cracked their ribs laughing. I ran towards my Mum’s cabin, and hid under the bed, crying. My dad laughed.
Two years later. I was 13 and finally entering puberty. I was awkward, cripplingly self-conscious, and convinced no-one would ever love me. I wish that had been the extent of this teenage angst. I didn’t know how to feel at first. A boy — the brother of my cabin-mate — had bought me a chocolate bar. I was flattered. Soon that flattery turned to anxiety, and then a bone-deep fear as he began to follow me around, always watching me, ever-present. I could not escape. I could not go to the toilet without looking over my shoulder. I showered with my clothes on. I cried in the woods beside the bonfire, hidden behind a thatch of pines, hoping he couldn’t spot me. This happened for at least five years.
I was 15 when I started to articulate my reservations. My dad and brothers thought it was funny. They told me to be grateful that a boy was paying me attention. That boys would be boys. I didn’t know otherwise.
I was 18 when my parents let me stay home from these camps. I was 18 when my brothers encountered this boy on a bush walk and he proudly brandished his knife collection, asking them what I was up to these days.
I am fairly certain that neither boy had malicious intent when he pursued me. I am also fairly certain that neither guy would have actually physically hurt me, had they had the opportunity. But then again, who knows? Who knows how an awkward adolescent — one who has never learned how to appropriately relate to girls and women — might turn out? Fortunately, I have not encountered either boy for over a decade. I hope I never see either boy again.
From Netflix shows to the lenience surrounding Kanye West’s actions, it seems like stalkers are viewed through a rose-tinted lens by the media. But stalking should not be normalised or excused. Stalking is a pattern of unwanted contact and/or behaviour that causes the target to feel anxious, disturbed, or scared for one’s safety. It is a consistent and intentional series of actions that may worsen further; sometimes fatally. Psychologists quibble over the various categories of stalkers. Frankly, I don’t care. I just want to know what can be done to protect those targeted.
Stalking exists beyond the parameters of popular media. Stalkers are not just deranged loners. They do not target celebrities only. They desire control over their victims via persistent communication, obstruction, and threats. They can, and will, change a person’s life. They will leave someone with post-traumatic stress, an inability to trust, hypervigilance and crippling anxiety.
If you are being stalked, please don’t feel like you’re being paranoid or overreacting. Disclose your experiences to a loved one, and if you feel capable of doing so, consider reporting the crime. I would highly recommend Victim Support: Manaaki Tangata for those seeking support. You can call them 24/7 on 0800842-846.
And if someone you know discloses to you that they’re being stalked, believe them. Don’t minimise their concerns or accuse them of attention-seeking. Don’t try to justify the actions of the stalker as merely indicative of a persistent would-be lover or mere joker. Take it from me — it’s horrendous enough being targeted by a stalker. It’s even worse to have loved ones — trusted ones — minimise and joke about the experience.
After 11 years of wreaking terror, 10 arrests and at least 62 traumatised women, the cyberstalker Matthew Hardy was eventually jailed earlier this year. I have endless sympathy for people who have had to navigate the hideously demeaning and perpetually traumatising experience of being stalked — be it in person or online. It’s a uniquely isolating experience.
*not his real name
- Jean Balchin, a former English student at the University of Otago, is studying at Oxford University after being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship.
