Change: It is inevitable.
You can do nothing to stop changes from occurring in your life.
For the past eight years, I was the target of a relentless smear campaign. A domain in my personal name was used to spread lies, manipulate narratives, and attack every aspect of who I was. https://stellareddy.com
It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to have your identity twisted into something unrecognizable, to see your name tied to fabricated stories and accusations meant to harm you at your core. I’ll be honest: it broke me in ways I didn’t think were possible. But it also forced me to grow, heal, and reclaim my life on my own terms.
This journey has been anything but linear. Healing from something like this isn’t a straight path. It’s messy, it’s painful, and it’s often two steps forward and one step back. But I’m here to share my experience because I know that if I can come out the other side of this, so can you.
The Early Days: Shock, Perplexity, and Denial
When the smear campaign first began, I didn’t understand what was happening. At first, I thought it was a misunderstanding or a momentary lapse in judgment by someone angry with me for doing my job and enforcing apartment rules.
I never imagined it would escalate the way it did or that it would stretch on for over 8 years. I was in denial about the depth of their intentions. Who would go to such lengths to destroy someone else’s life?
Seeing my name in a domain dedicated to attacking me was surreal. It’s one thing to deal with criticism or conflict in person, but it’s another to have a public, permanent record of hate tied to your identity. At the height of their campaign, they had 7 websites online containing my name. Who does that?
The accusations were baseless, but that didn’t matter. The internet doesn’t care about truth—it cares about clicks and drama. I felt helpless, like my reputation and sense of self were slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Initially, I tried to fight back. I spent countless hours trying to reason with the people behind it, hoping they’d see the harm they were causing or realize they’d made a mistake. But that only fueled their fire. They weren’t interested in the truth or resolution—they wanted control. Once I accepted that, I stopped engaging. But the damage was already done.
The Isolation and Self-Doubt
One of the hardest parts of this experience was the isolation. I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone about what was happening. How do you explain to someone that there’s a website dedicated to tearing you down, filled with lies and hateful rhetoric? How do you admit that you’re terrified to Google your own name because of what might come up?
The isolation wasn’t just external—it was internal, too. I started to doubt myself. When you’re bombarded with lies about who you are, you start to wonder if there’s truth to them. Maybe I wasn’t as good of a person as I thought I was. Maybe I deserved this. That’s the insidious thing about smear campaigns—they plant seeds of doubt that grow if you’re not careful.
I withdrew from people I cared about because I didn’t want them to see what was being said about me. I didn’t want them to think less of me or, worse, believe the lies. I was also afraid that these angry tenants would pick on more of my family members online, as they were doing to some.
Looking back, I realize that isolation only gave the smear campaign more power. It made me feel smaller and more alone than I was.
The Turning Point: Taking My Power Back
The turning point came when I realized that I couldn’t control what other people said or thought about me, but I could control how I responded. I decided I wasn’t going to let this campaign define me. I wasn’t going to let their lies and hatred dictate how I lived my life. It was a slow, gradual shift, but it started with a single decision: to take my power back.
One of the first things I did was start documenting my experience. I kept copies of all their domain contents, as well as on social media. Writing became a way for me to process what I was going through and reclaim my narrative.
I started to see the smear campaign for what it was—a desperate attempt to control and silence me. By sharing my truth, I was refusing to be silenced. I wasn’t writing for them; I was writing for me.
I also began to focus on self-care. I know that term gets thrown around a lot, but it’s true. I had to rebuild my sense of self from the ground up.
Once I left Ontario in the Fall of 2020 and came home to Newfoundland & Labrador, I started feeling safer. That sense of safety helped me move forward and focus on healing. That meant setting boundaries, practicing mindfulness, and surrounding myself with people who truly cared about me. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.
The Emotional Rollercoaster of Healing
Healing is not a straight line. There were days when I felt strong and empowered, and there were days when I felt like I was back at square one. Triggers were everywhere—a random comment on social media, a memory that surfaced out of nowhere, or even just seeing my name online.
But over time, those triggers lost their power. They stopped feeling like daggers and started feeling like reminders of how far I’d come.
I also had to confront a lot of anger. For years, I’d bottled it up, afraid that acknowledging it would make me just as hateful as the people behind the smear campaign. But I’ve learned that anger is a natural response to injustice.
It’s what you do with that anger that matters. For me, it became a fuel for growth. I channelled it into my writing, my healing, and my determination to move forward.
I used my anger also to reach out to the Hosting Companies, like Hostinger, but the most empowering was making a report to my local Police, the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary. While no charges came from this complaint, I am happy that at least I made the Police aware. In the past 4 years, I have made a lot of people aware of this smear campaign.
Rebuilding My Sense of Self
One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed in myself is how much stronger I’ve become. I’m not the same person I was before this campaign started. I’ve had to face parts of myself I didn’t want to see, but in doing so, I’ve discovered a resilience I didn’t know I had.
I’ve also learned to separate my worth from other people’s opinions. For so long, I let their lies define me. I let their actions dictate how I felt about myself. But now, I know who I am. I know my truth. And no website, no smear campaign, can take that away from me.
Rebuilding my sense of self has been a slow process, but it’s also been incredibly rewarding. I’ve learned to trust myself again. I’ve learned to stand up for myself, even when it’s scary. And I’ve learned that my voice matters, even in the face of adversity.
Moving Forward: Lessons Learned
As painful as this experience has been, it’s also taught me a lot about myself and the world. I’ve learned that people will go to great lengths to tear others down, but I’ve also learned that we have the power to rise above it.
I’ve learned that healing isn’t about forgetting what happened—it’s about finding a way to live a full, meaningful life despite it.
I’ve also learned the importance of compassion. As much as I’ve been hurt by others, I don’t want to become like them. I refuse to let their hatred harden my heart. Instead, I choose kindness, not just for others, but for myself.
Final Thoughts
Healing from an 8-year smear campaign hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. I’m not the person I was before, and that’s okay. I’m stronger, wiser, and more resilient because of what I’ve been through.
If there’s one thing I want others to take away from my story, it’s this: you are not defined by what others say about you. You are defined by how you choose to move forward. Keep going. You’ve got this.