Tech Exec and Womens’ Advocate Faces Horrific Retaliation, Torture

“Please try to remember that what they believe, as well as what they do and cause you to endure does not testify to your inferiority but to their inhumanity.”

—James Baldwin

About a month and a half ago, I had a conversation with an Iranian women living in the United States (actually in my hometown in California, oddly enough) and moving to Mexico.

 This was before the protests erupted in Iran.

Her comment, “Its worse for women in the US than in Iran”.

That got my attention, considering what has happened to me and the failure not just of law enforcement in the US, but of any attention whatsoever being given to the horrific experiences I have endured and survived, the vacuum of services legal and otherwise for people in my shoes, and the women that are still trapped in horrific sex slavery in Knox County, ME.

“How so?”

"At least in Iran, we know we are being oppressed. We know we live in a repressive religious theocracy that demonizes and murders women. It’s the same in the US, but they call it ‘freedom’. The lies and hidden nature of the happenings to women in the US has me so deeply disturbed. I feel like I am in a dark ocean where I know that the water is shark-infested. I see the shark fins all around me. 

I see women next to me being attacked and pulled under, but so many of the people in this same shark-infested water are swimming around, smiling, completely oblivious to the danger of just existing, as a woman, in a pool of shark-infested waters.

I hated Iran, but this is so much worse. I can’t even sleep, I’m so anxious all the time. Now I’m moving to Mexico. “

Whoa

This is one woman. Perhaps other Iranian women don’t see this or feel this way. Even so, these sad, disappointed, horrified comments resonate strongly with my experiences in the US as a woman.

This is why:

These Iranian protests should be a stark warning to women in the US. We should be seeing ourselves there. If you’re not, you’re not paying attention.

Exhibit A: My Story

In 2014, I excitedly began working in the field of Augmented and Virtual Reality. Right at the start, I was invited to an event that celebrated women entering the field and I was even given leadership status along with about 25 other women. The talk at this event held in San Francisco was all about the promise of the field and the need for women pioneers to come in on the ground floor of the industry. 

I used the event to announce the formation of a meetup in the city to advance women in the field called ARVR Women and Allies. This was going to be fun. The technology is so amazing, beautiful and futuristic, combining the elements of storytelling, gaming, social engagement, healing potential. I was in love with the field, the technology and the potential, and so were so many women.

There were mostly all green lights it seemed. Many of the men already in the industry rushed to share that they were excited by what I was planning and excited that so many women wanted to get involved.

We began our Meetup on October 31st, 2014. I remember it was Halloween because I was wearing a Wonder Woman costume. The house was packed. Thinkware, a software development firm in San Francisco with a female forward culture was proud to sponsor us.

We had four brilliant ARVR women already in the field speaking at the meetup introducing it to the crowd. I told them I wanted to roll out the red carpet to women and they enthusiastically jumped in.

Many good and powerful things came from this meetup and this group that also became a large Facebook group: networking and educational opportunities, the first job fair for ARVR in the city, a free school for women teaching them the basics of product design and creation. Everything about the technology fascinated and delighted me, me and so many others. I couldn’t get enough about it and I loved meeting all these powerful, visionary, brilliant women with plans, undaunted by whatever they needed to learn to get where they wanted to go.

I went to conferences around the world, and spoke at conferences around the world. 

But there was a very dark, and extremely dangerous side to being in tech for women, and by that I mean, the industry of tech in Silicon Valley and San Francisco, that slowly began to reveal itself.

Despite all these professions of joy about what I was doing, I could hardly get any backers or funders, not even for very basic needs. Mostly, I paid out of pocket for the standard pizza and drinks at the Meetups.

Meanwhile, right down the street in San Francisco, there was an organization named Upload VR “led” by two vapid young men, headquartered a block away from our Meetup, that was getting millions in funding from Silicon Valley VC’s to network. They also were having monthly Meetups. I asked them if we could have a joint Meetup or two, seeing that their membership was mostly male, mine mostly female, I thought that would be fun and make sense. But no, they weren’t interested.They had plenty of women at their Meetups, I was informed. 

One of the founders, most likely using part of the VC money they received, had started a “modeling agency” in San Francisco. This agency on their website described their models as pretty “And Smart!” and they were specifically targeting Startup events as paid hosts, showing up in matching miniskirts, high heels, and other such garments. This was the group VC funded UploadVR co-sponsored their Meetups with, not the professional group of women solidly engaged in the industry in my group.

I’m not going to go over all the many insanities of UploadVR in this document. Their story eventually broke, years later, with all kinds of horrific abuses of women and of power being detailed in the news. While this explosion of bad press about UploadVR does intersect with my story down the road a bit, we’ll get there.

As I was launching both ARVR Women and Allies and my own tech company, New Reality Arts, I was going to all the many conferences about ARVR. The first big one was in LA. It was huge and well attended, I’d say by eye count, almost evenly attended by women and men. 

However, at the final event, we were presented with a new board that will be guiding ARVR as an industry, it was 10 men. Many in the crowd started muttering angrily.

I stood up and asked the obvious question, do you see this as only an industry for men?

“Oh no, of course not”

"Well, then you need equal representation for women on your board. An all male board is insane in 2015.”

I didn’t think this was a particularly revolutionary comment, just common sense. Afterwards, many women in the audience came up to me to thank me for making, I mean, just an obvious comment. However, some people came up to me and quietly warned me, “You better be careful”. Careful? Of what?

Roughly a year later, there was another Conference, GDC, this time in San Francisco. Microsoft had held a party where the paid hostesses wore skimpy cheerleading outfits and were being castigated in the press. I personally got many calls from women in my group about the UploadVR event for other similar (and worse) circumstances. 

I posted a question about it on one of the Facebook pages for ARVR women, and received a truly insane amount of hate, on this women’s board for ARVR, from the CEO of UploadVR, from the very young women leaders on that page, etc. I’ve spoken a little about that exchange in another article. That was strange and awful. But things got stranger, and far, far, far more awful.

A few days later, a woman who I had connected with, lets call her “Anne”, who was a power player in the gaming community, and a huge supporter of women, sent me an email. I believe it was triggered by this conversation on the facebook page (if you want to call it a conversation — more a gaslighting threatening attack on me, and all women) about UploadVR at the GDC conference.

In this email, Anne told me that she always has to be very careful about what she says. She sent me several articles detailing horrific retaliation against women involved in the gaming industry who spoke out about misogyny. There were at least five articles, each story worse than the one before. 

I can’t remember all of them, but this one sticks out in my mind. 

It was about “Gamergate” and Anita Sarkeesian and the harassment and threats she has withstood while calling out misogyny in gaming culture. One of the horrors inflicted upon her was a game called “Beat Up Anita Sarkeesian”, where her face is highlighted and you inflict bruises and wounds on her face, if you can call that a game. 

Her and other woman involved had their home addresses published online, and so many other acts of terrorism, threats and otherwise. In her email to me, Anne told me plainly she needs to be careful, because she is a mother.

I responded to her email, “Are you telling me that you are so scared for your life and your family’s lives that you are cutting off communication to me because I’m mildly calling out some bullshit online? Because I’m asserting that ARVR should be a gender equal field (our motto at ARVR Women and Allies was 50/50 in 5, or 50% women, 50% men in five years)? You’re that terrorized?

She didn’t respond, and that was the end of our connection. So I presume, my response was accurate.

I just looked up Anita Sarkeesian. The Wikipedia story describes her experience with “harassment”. Nowhere is there the right word in the Wikipedia version of this story: Terrorism.

I think it’s important to define terrorism here.

This is the U.N. Security Council’s definition of terrorism:

criminal acts, including against civilians, committed with the intent to cause death or serious bodily injury, or taking of hostages, with the purpose to provoke a state of terror in the general public or in a group of persons or particular persons, intimidate a population or compel a government or an international organization to do or to abstain from doing any act.

Here is the European Union’s definition of terrorism:

given their nature or context, may seriously damage a country or an international organization where committed with the aim of: seriously intimidating a population; or unduly compelling a Government or international organization to perform or abstain from performing any act; or seriously destabilizing or destroying the fundamental political, constitutional, economic or social structures of a country or an international organization.

My Journey

As I write this account of what happened to me, I am consciously trying to take you on the journey that I have been on. I am hoping that using your logic and reason, your empathy, your ability to put yourself in another’s shoes, you can follow along.

It’s a little bit challenging to make this story linear. 

Partly because of the fear and overwhelm that I was constantly struggling with, partly because many things were happening at once, partly because what I am describing here is systemic abuse, oppression and terrorism, so things were happening but they were coming from many places, on many different levels, partly because as a society we accept the unacceptable, the threat of violence by men against women, and when that happens it becomes difficult to name the unnameable, and finally, so many horrifically traumatic things have happened to me in the interim, that the timeline becomes hazy.

A symptom of PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is that one’s perception of time, as well as the perception of linear causality of action and then reaction, can be disrupted. Even so, I have documented most of this in many different ways, and of course, this really isn’t just my story, this is the story of reality, every woman’s story in America.

I began this journey by being excited about a new field in tech, my kids were old enough for me to work full time again, I was told by industry representatives how much they want women in the field, I was given much praise for starting ARVR Women and Allies. This makes good sense from simply a business perspective, let alone social justice. If you want women involved in your virtual worlds, you need women creators.

We began on Halloween and we wore costumes. We were joyful.Full disclosure here. Prior to this I had mainly worked in female dominated spaces, first as a psychotherapist, and then I had founded and led a theater company devoted to telling women’s stories on stage.

I hadn’t come from a good family, per se, but it would be considered upper middle class, my father was a doctor. Dinner table discussions in our family often had us congratulating ourselves on our elite status and collectively high I.Q. We have a lot of very successful people in our family, billionaires and millionaires.

While in grad school in San Francisco, I married a man who made a very good income, and he supported me financially. I also spent a lot of my grown up life continuing to educate myself.

To wit, all this is to say, I was up until now, a protected class.

Unlike so many of my friends encountering a workplace fraught with unjust environments because they were women, including harassment, sexual and otherwise, demeaning treatment, lower pay for better quality work than the men, etc.

I had not been kicked over and over and over by predatory men and predatory practices, like so many of my friends that I went to college with had experienced after they entered the workforce

I began my entrance into the San Francisco tech world fully and naively believing the hype. However, because I had set up this organization ARVR Women and Allies, because I was on the board of IEEE and because I became a prominent speaker on the conference circuit, I became the confidant for so many women working in this field or related ones.

The stories I heard were horrifying: blatant and extreme harassment at work, betrayal, money and work stolen, accounts hacked, including mine, data stolen. Another female leader was raped, she felt in retaliation for her work. Some I reported to the FBI, with permission. Nothing ever came of those reports. More and more I came to the realization of two giant insights hiding in plain sight: Women aren’t safe anywhere, our law enforcement isn’t doing its’ job of protecting us, consequently, women are terrorized into silence and that this is a well, and probably, intentionally kept secret.

The men are living in a totally different world. I heard from many men in the field frequently saying how excited they are about having more women to work with. Our ARVR Women and Allies Meetups were filled with supportive men.

One man that I was friendly with assured me that ageism was a much bigger problem in tech than misogyny. I believe that all the men ever see or want to see is that top layer that I encountered first, the hype, the fun.

The women are too terrorized to speak openly about their experiences. The men are enjoying their unearned privilege too much, and too steeped in a culture that denies women our lived experiences to hear those women who are brave enough to come forward.

It is a form of delusion. And here is where the gas-lighting sets in, the men tell the women, who are experiencing life threatening terrorist threats on a regular basis, that they are the crazy ones, when in fact, it is the men who are delusional, who refuse to see the awful truth.

Eventually, I stepped back from my leadership of ARVR Women and Allies, as my ex-husband said, it was a thankless, life-threatening task. I managed to install a new leadership team, I was especially proud of putting in place a brilliant woman who was an amazing hero. I’m not saying her name here because that would put her life at risk.

I am not exaggerating.

Even so, I got a call out of the blue from an ex-employee at UploadVR who told me that my name was mentioned frequently in the UploadVR offices behind closed doors, Rape was mentioned, murder.I was trying to walk a line between staying focused on my own life, my own career but also staying connected to my values and my principles. At least that’s how I saw it at the time. Of course, now I see clearly that for me there was no choice but to keep speaking up against the terrorism being propagated against women who simply wanted to do a job they loved, to speak up against the brutal subjugation of women that continues now, that must be brought into view, and out of coverup that is happening in our country.

I am Jewish, and this matters. I grew up steeped in the knowledge of the Holocaust. For most of the Holocaust, Jews around Germany and Eastern Europe complied with authorities and believed them when they were told they were simply being taken to “internment camps”, not extermination camps. They willingly took their families and went to their horrific deaths. Until near the end, in Warsaw, Poland, by this time the Jews had come to realize what “going to the camps” actually meant. Walled off in a small ghetto, with their families and children dying beside them, they fought against overwhelming odds, they knew they would all die, and they did, but still they fought until they starved to death.I will not comply. I am the Warsaw Ghetto.

Further, Elie Weisel, a holocaust survivor, is one of my greatest mentors.“Always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

So as I tried to stay focused on my own work, UploadVR, eventually publicly exploded. A female employee at UploadVR brought a lawsuit against them for their horrific misogynistic environment.I received many calls from the press about UploadVR, my name given to them by many as having tangled with these sociopaths, and I was happy to share my thoughts. I thought I was being very gentle and circumspect with what I was sharing with the press, considering all that I did know about these criminals.

After one of these articles went public, I got a call though from one of my male collaborators. Basically, he said because he had female co-workers, and they were scared of my public comments, he could no longer work with me. He told me my life was in danger and, for my own safety, I needed to shut up.

At least this man understood these threats were real. It was shortly after this that my personal holocaust began in earnest. I am not law enforcement. I don’t have any of the tools law enforcement has to understand the full scope of what happened to me and why, who is or was involved, when were things decided, when was I targeted.I have identified several other potential influencing events and people on what happened to me next.

One is, in 2010 I had gone to the FBI and named an ex-lover as a potential criminal, and gave them my evidence. I was already quietly dealing with some scary difficult things about him. But this man played a big role in the next thing that happened to me.

I also suspect my cousin, Rob Schiller, works as a human trafficker. I have many reasons for these suspicions, one of the most concerning ones being, his sister, my cousin Pam, has disappeared.

But until law enforcement does its’ job, I don’t know all the reasons for why this happened to me, but I do know, considering the timing, the growing menace to me, and things that were later told me, it must be about my effective impact on ARVR, bringing women into the field, and not shutting the fuck up.

Otherwise, I was just a small female entrepreneur in a small tech industry with a big mouth, a shit ton of intelligence and courage, and a Jew.

So much of the obliterating terrorism we as women in the United States are experiencing, depends upon us not clearly seeing what is happening, and not acting collectively.

Our enemies, and to be clear, these are not just the enemies of women, these are the enemies of justice, freedom and all things good, find the stand-outs, the potential threats to their power, as early as possible and eliminate us as individuals.

My story proves this.

Even now, even though my story is truly the most important, revealing story in the US, maybe the world, the press will not write about it, law enforcement will not investigate.

Even though all it would take to prove much of what I am saying is to open, examine and investigate my experiences in Knox County, ME, no one will do this.

Even though the longer our law enforcement and our press ignores me and ignores my story, the stronger is my argument for everything that I am asserting, even so, they delay, or perhaps believe and hope I will go away?

I don’t know why this is happening. It would have been unfathomable to me prior to this actually going on. The ongoing betrayal is staggering.

Perhaps covering up is the best tactic for the powers that be at this point, because it is working. Keeping the women of America, and the men who love freedom, in the dark, and in ignorance, keeps them asleep to the march we are already on to the camps, keeps them compliant and respectful.

This approach will not save you or any of us.

Another factor I need to explain, is the importance of my industry to the future our collective future. Spatial computing, which is another broader name for augmented and virtual reality, is the frontier of, not just computing, but of a revolution in how we live our lives.

Later, one of my predators would ask me, what the hell did I think I was doing? And I responded, handing the keys to reality to the women.

Well, he said, that’s why you’re here. And then he tortured me.

The women in my industry know what happened to me. Do you think, while justice continues to be denied me, any woman in technology will speak out, even mildly, about the horror they are facing?

My story is a resoundingly clear example of the terrorism being brought to bear on the women of America, and the dishonor and cowardice of the men who benefit from it.

It was around this time, through credible threats to my life and my children’s lives, I was forced to move to a small town in Maine, Camden, where my ex-lover and predator lived, the man I had named to the FBI in 2010.

There I was sexually assaulted, tortured on a regular basis and told that I was now always going to be this man’s sex slave. I hate that I have to talk about this, but, of course, I do.

I have put forth a lot of information about this time on my TikTok page “jodischillerthetruth”and I will be writing more about it down the road, not because I want to, but because I have to. It’s hard to describe the horror of my experiences there. I went into and out of shock, was dissociating, was unable to ask for help because I was told if I told anyone what was happening to me, I would be tortured more.

At one point, I did manage to escape back to California. There my captors showed up at my door one day, forced me back to Maine. I had leased an apartment for the year in San Leandro, I had bought a car that eventually was repossessed, I had no intention of ever returning to Maine. I had never wanted to be there in the first place.

Years after the fact I made a police report with the local policein San Leandro to document it.

A month after I had been forced to return to Camden, in the house they had forced me to buy, they tied me to a chair and set my house on fire as a warning to me not to run away again.

My continuous obsessive thoughts were suicide to escape: drowning myself, hanging myself, shooting myself, over and over these were my fantasies, but they made that impossible. They branded me and pierced me. They tortured and humiliated me and thrilled in my degradation. They enjoyed forcing me to buy various items for my own horrific sexual torture, part of their goal being to intentionally impoverish me. I still have scars from the cigarette burns. I refuse to erase my brand until my predators are in jail.

Meanwhile, as this was going on behind closed doors, the corrupt D.A. in the area, Chris Ferneld, worked with my predator and the criminal cell he was a part of to use my enslavement to frame me for stalking my predator. There are several articles online from the local papers about my case filled with complete fabrications and slander put forth by this D.A. These articles also detail online significant malfeasance by the D.A., but this appears to spark no one’s curiosity. At one point, courageously, I attempted to go to the press with what was happening to me. The D.A. put me in jail for 48 hours and tried to put a gag order on my attorney.

The two years I lived in Maine in hell was like living in Russia, I had no civil rights, the law, as practiced there, made no sense and was an extension of my predator’s will, or so it seemed.

In 2019, I had been forced from the house I had been forced to buy, and had very little money left. One of my predators came by the RV where I was living, now homeless thanks to the insane conviction for stalking my predator, and handed me back my passport. He told me to run, so I did.

I packed a small bag and fled to Europe this time, to Spain.

My time in Spain is an agonized blur. I was hungry, isolated, traumatized,had very little money, barely managed to keep a shelter over my head. I was suicidal. I was obliterated.

After not being able to successfully kill myself, my thoughts turned to the only thing that has kept me alive since then: telling my story, putting the criminals behind bars, freeing the other slaves, women and girls, that are trapped there. Even though, it is so hard to talk about what happened to me.

At that point, now that I had left Maine, I was sure all I needed to do was get to the right authorities and get the story to the press.

I promised you I would bring you along with me on this horrific holocaust as much as possible.

I was living now in Sitges, south of Barcelona in Spain. While the town is lovely, this was not a relaxing time. I was mostly all by myself and felt like I had the weight of the whole world on my shoulders.

Something so profoundly wrong, profoundly criminal and corrupt, had happened to me, in my own country, something I could never have imagined was possible.

While going in and out of shock still, with memories and visions of incidents from my torture the past two years being triggered so many times a day out of the blue, where I would start to shake and sweat, where I would rather die than have these frequent agonizing flashbacks, I tried to piece together what had happened to me, how it had happened, why it had happened, and most importantly, what did it mean?

I was often despairing. I felt that no one cared for me or my life. There I was being tortured, in the United States, and no one came to my rescue. At that point, I thought it must be that people just don’t know what happened to me. When they find out, I was hopeful, they will care.

I was devastated about the horrific, demeaning public lies put forth by Mr. Ferneld, the corrupt A.D.A. in Knox County.

My whole life I had fought to be a leader with integrity and courage. I measured my public words. I revealed myself to make points or to educate through example. I responded and fought for my constituents. My behavior was kind and direct, never sexualized or inappropriate. I made friends with my male colleagues, not lovers. My intimate life I kept private. I fought for women, for our lives, for our freedom to pursue happiness, for my daughter’s future, my son’s.

I was and am a mental health expert. Yet these criminals had tried to paint me as insane.

This I knew, as a long-time critic and researcher into the definitions of mental health and mental illness, and into WHO defines mental health and mental illness, was a tried and true page out of the patriarchy’s playbook in their subjugation of women. Call the bitch crazy. Put her in an insane asylum. Even now as the protests rage in Iran, the Ayatollah’s are putting the women so bravely fighting for freedom in insane asylums. Because, I guess, if women fight for their freedom, for their right to exist and wield power, from a man’s perspective, their “property” must have lost their minds. These ugly blind “narcissist sociopaths misogynists” don’t see us as “human” like they are. They don’t have the imaginative ability, and they haven’t had to, like those of us who spend our time raising, nurturing and teaching children, of changing their points of view to encompass, comprehend and respect the full range of human character and diversity.

When we, as women, assert our humanity, in a way, these men have to write us off as crazy. To acknowledge our humanity would be to acknowledge their own monstrosity perpetrated on us for thousands of years through the patriarchy, through the choice made over and over to control and dominate us, rather than respect us as equals, rather than learn how to love us and care for us, as fellow humans on this wild path called life.

They use us as props to their ego, as sources of love and support, as the guiders of their souls and their children, while at the very same time, deny us any dignity or rights or freedom to be who we want to be in return. They can’t and don’t want to hear us as women, as human beings, our lived experiences, the often psychohorror of our daily lives. To hear us would be to see themselves as they really are, monsters, oppressors, predators, not what they like to pretend that they are, not the giant delusional bubble with which they protect their fragile, weak selves with, which is only an echo chamber of the lives they like to imagine they are living, without any feedback from reality outside this bubble, from the women interacting with them all day, in their homes, at work, and online.

There’s a reason so few men are interested in going to therapy. Therapy begins with seeing reality the way it is. Most of our known history has taught men a very pretty lie about who they are. They can’t handle the truth, nor does it seem do they want to. On the one hand, they like the benefits that come with the illusion of women empowered next to them, on the other they don’t want us to actually have the ability to leave them, the ability to see them as they really are, and most importantly, the ability to hold them accountable for their actions.

These men have missed the consequences of their actions for a very long time, have been rewarded when they should be jailed, and have managed to maintain a delusional lie about themselves and about their relationships to women throughout.We are living today in this insane world as a result.This is the consequence of this criminal, insane delusion by these men. Men, who are, in truth, puny and fragile inside, but in the world, wield over-weaning power. Unconsciously, as a group, they feel so threatened by the humanity of women, by our growing voice and power, that they feel justified in whatever brutality they must do to force us back down, to keep us in the very small box of their lie about who we are to them.I walked around in almost constant state of rage, of hatred. I envisioned the criminals in Knox County, Mr. Ferneld, my predators, some others, in orange and shackles being sentenced to life in prison.I grieved deeply for the loss to all the women who had been counting on me to speak for them. All the women I had connected with through ARVR Women and Allies who had looked up to me for courageously speaking out, had written about me, had told me how much they needed and appreciated my courage and my voice, how much this horror done to me was done to every woman who needs a courageous leader, a clear and rational voice to speak for them, ignoring the terror and the threats. Even before this nightmare, I had been scared as the leader of ARVR Women and Allies, I had been terrorized, but, as I said, I am the Warsaw Ghetto. I will not comply, because complying leads you to the camps anyway.So for all these reasons, and more, I knew I needed to get the real story out, needed justice for myself, needed truth to be revealed.Around this time, and I believe this was at the beginning of 2020, as I tried to start reaching out to law enforcement, maybe the press, I started to notice strange activity with my communications and suspected I was being hacked or cyberstalked.I examined my laptop that I had had with me in Maine. With just a little bit of scrutiny beneath the top layer, my laptop was chock full of crazy malware and trackware. Ah, hard evidence I thought. This should work.I thought all I need to do is get this to the FBI..Because I thought I might be being tracked and was definitely being cyperstalked, judging by my laptop, rather than call the FBI directly, I bought a ticket to fly to Madrid and go to the US embassy and the nearest FBI office. I showed up there, laptop in hand, story in mind. From the front desk, I called up to the FBI office and told them I had something urgent to tell them and hard evidence with me.They told me to wait downstairs and someone would be down.I waited about 45 minutes out in the street in front of the embassy, there was no waiting room, or at least none that I was offered.Nothing.So I called up again. Oh, someone will be right down.About another 30 minutes later a young man showed up. I expected him to take me up to the FBI office, but instead he said I can just tell him my story there..on the busy street in Madrid. I showed him my laptop and told him in order to show him my evidence, I really need to be in an office with a desk. Nah, he said. Just tell him my story here. So I did. And that was that. He never looked at my laptop, he sent me on my way, I flew back to Sitges, and I wanted to vomit in powerless fury.After all the horror I had been through, this was actually when the greatest of them began to set in.No matter how many times I contacted the press, no matter how many times I called the FBI, no matter what law enforcement I spoke to (many in Maine), no one would look into my case. I had hard evidence, my laptop. The articles online in the local Maine press about my case, while filled with total fabrications and slander about me, also detailed significant law breaking by the corrupt D.A. Chris Ferneld. I mean, it was online. Additionally, all anyone had to do was open my file in Knox County and see the full spread of the crazy, illegal things this D.A. had done to me to try to frame me for a crime I wasn’t committing and to silence me. The biggest one being that there was now a warrant out for my arrest in Maine for second degree stalking, of my predator, which you cannot be found guilty of without a first degree stalking conviction, which never happened. But that’s just the beginning of the insanity and corruption of law enforcement there. All it would take was someone looking at my file.With subpoena power, with a full investigation, who knows what kind of things an investigation would uncover? In my presence, when they were done abusing me, my predators would talk loosely about all kinds of things, I wish they had not. But I guess they presumed I’d soon be safely jailed and I was just a sex slave to them, nothing much, nothing to be concerned about.For the next 2 and a half years, my only goal, other than survive, was to get my story out, to get justice for myself.At one point, while doing research, plotting my next move, I looked up Chris Ferneld, the dirty assistant D.A. in my case. He had now been promoted to head of sex crimes in Knox County. He IS a sex criminal. This is after I had spoken to many Maine law enforcement, after my many reports to the F.B.I.Then it dawned on me. Kind of like in a photo montage, I remembered all these encounters with women and girls in Camden, strange things they said, calling themselves sisters, or wives or daughters of the men they were with. Things I was told or overheard from my predators. In Knox county, law enforcement ignored our country’s laws and behaved like a Russian state. I was not the only slave. There are women and girls trapped here, being tortured, and unable to escape in Camden, ME. Mr. Ferneld will make sure of that. Additionally, much more recently, as I have been using social media to reach out to these women trapped in Camden, to let them know I know they are there, one of the girls responded — simply saying, yes, we’re here. I can’t tell you how many times this D.A. came up with an excuse to throw me in jail while I was trapped there.How many other places are there like Camden, ME in our country? A part of the United States, but ignoring our laws and acting like a Russian state? Do the women vote in these places? Do the women vote FREELY in those towns? Nothing you would see online about Camden, about this corrupt ADA Chris Ferneld, would give you any indication of what is actually happening there, what I experienced first-hand.HOW MANY OTHER PLACES LIKE THIS ARE THERE IN OUR COUNTRY? Hiding in plain sight?Back to my attempt to get help.When I called almost any law enforcement, and managed to speak to a person, they always told me I needed to call the Human Trafficking Hotline.So I called them and got on their list.This hotline is where all trafficking victims are sent. It is one of the many sops and lies I discovered on this horrific journey. While the women working here, and they’re all women, are caring and well-intentioned, and it seems that they can potentially hook you up with therapy, that’s about the sum of what they offer. They were unable to connect me with any potential legal help that I so desperately needed. There is no law enforcement arm of this hotline. They report their list to the FBI, and most likely this is the end of it. No officer ever called me. I had several conversations with these women, how many cases are actually followed up on?They didn’t know. They suspected not many judging by the amount of repeated calls they receive from the trafficking victims on their list asking when law enforcement will help. I suspect none.The Polaris Institute founded the Human Trafficking Hotline. I’ve told them directly and I’m stating it here,close it down.First, do no harm.By providing yet another lie that there are resources for female victims that don’t actually exist, you are providing cover for our predators, for our law enforcement that isn’t, for a system where women are endangered and no one is protecting us.Instead, use your funding to collect the data from your hotline. Follow up on all your victims, did any of them get a call from the FBI? Any of them, let alone were there any arrests? I suspect not.That would actually help your victims.Right now, you provide a lie that does nothing but help our predators. What we, women and girls, fellow United States citizens, need more than anything is data about the largeness of this problem, slavery and sex slavery in America, and the massive un-interest in law enforcement to help us, or the press to write about it.At one point, I became so angry and obstinate, when I was back in the states briefly, I was calling the FBI almost every day, just to verify what I was seeing.The agent who answered the call would often hang up on me when I said I had been a sex slave, as if it were some kind of joke. I managed to get one to stay on the call long enough for him to tell me to call the human trafficking hotline. I explained to him that they have no law enforcement ability, that the Hotline relies on the FBI to follow up on their cases. He assured me I was completely wrong. “The hotline handles everything about trafficking, that’s where we send everyone” was his comment. I think that may be correct, just not as he thinks it is.I contacted the DOJ, I contacted the ACLU, I contacted the Secret Service, I contacted the AG of Maine, the Cumberland Trafficking unit there, the fraud department, I contacted Homeland Security, Amnesty International, Clooney Foundation for Justice, Human Rights Watch (really Men’s Rights Watch) and on and on and on. I reached out to so many lawyers who claim to fight for civil rights, women’s rights. I had others contact them. Nothing. In desperation, I tried to file my own lawsuit against these predators and the law enforcement that enables them in the New York courts. Without any help, it was shot down.When I spoke about the gigantic failure of the human trafficking hotline on one of my social media accounts, and the harm it actually is causing, I was told by many women, it is the same for all the so-called “Domestic Violence” hotlines. Nice women working there, absolutely helpless and powerless to help the victims. Most times there is no help for the victims, the women and girls, many times they are killed because of it. No matter how many times these threatened women and girls have reached out for help, no matter how many times they have called law enforcement, no matter how many pieces of paper they have called a “restraining order”, no one makes them safe. This isn’t because it’s not possible to keep women safe, of course it is.It’s because OUR employees, law enforcement and our public officials, have managed to keep a lot of things under cover and hidden by these false “services” that don’t truly offer any protective services at all.Women are not safe, even in their own homes, and our government isn’t trying to change that. I repeat. OUR government is not working to protect us.We vote. We pay our taxes. Law enforcement, and all government officials for that matter, are OUR employees. They cannot govern us if we refuse to be governed by them. Rather than be the law enforcement we need and deserve, they hide behind these lies. Rather than deal with a restive population of women citizens demanding safety, demanding a law enforcement that protects us, rather than actually being a law enforcement that protects us from male predatory behavior, they cover, hide and lie.No matter how many times I contacted major news sources in the U.S. with this story and other related, nothing was ever published, no reporter ever followed up with me.We don’t see stories about sex slaves in our press. We don’t see all the women being raped, beaten and murdered by their intimate partners. This isn’t because it isn’t happening, on a massive scale, its because our press is complicit in our brutal subjugation. This silence is not the case in many other countries, by the way.You don’t believe me? This can’t be true?Try these data points on for size.In my investigative zeal, and horror, I contacted directly or was connected through the hotline to hundreds of organizations devoted to trafficking in the United Sates. All of them, except for one, which I’ll get to, were staffed completely by women. All of them said they had no room for more on their lists, they were completely overwhelmed with victims, and had a long waiting list. All of them said forget about law enforcement, they don’t do anything, which was my top concern. I spoke with one woman at an organization based in L.A. and later received a call from the founder, a man. In this horrifying conversation, which began well, the man told me that his employee had been very concerned about me, which makes sense. Then I told him my story. His first question, breathing kind of heavy, “So, what kinds of torture exactly did they do to you when you were a sex slave?”I hung up shortly after that and emailed the staff member that this was not a legitimate organization.I called trafficking organizations in other places in the world. Justice and Peace in the U.K. does incredible work around the world bringing attention to modern slavery. When I told them what I was encountering here, all they could say was they were not surprised, its what they have been seeing in the U.S as well. There was nothing they could do because so far, the women in the U.S. don’t seem to be seeing what was happening to them or don’t seem to care enough.When I was being trafficked in Maine, and framed for a crime I wasn’t committing, my predators and I include the corrupt law enforcement there, Chris Ferneld, were desperately trying to paint me as a “crazy stalker”. My Linkedin profile had glowing, astounding references from every job I’d ever held, extolling my courage, my leadership, my sanity, my intelligence, etc. They forced me to delete it. About a year ago, I put up another Linkedin Profile, Jodi Schiller M.A. I put a brief version of this whole story on the profile as a way to, yet again, get the truth out. I made sure to connect to a vast swath of U.S. law enforcement who were following me. Every once and awhile I would call out to them, hey, look at my story, I need help. Nothing. Go look at my profile.A few months ago, the FBI announced it had successfully rounded up 200 predators in a child trafficking ring. Someone forgot to edit their announcement, or maybe, they rightly presumed, the press and the public would ignore it. This investigation, they said, began in 2009. So for roughly 30 years, they were “tracking” a child trafficking ring. What happened to all those enslaved, violated children who are now grown? What exactly went into the FBI’s 13 year-long “Sting” operation of these child traffickers? Does anyone give a f**K about the innocents in our country? About our children, our women and our girls? Why are you silently complying and marching to the camps? WHY?There are so many more.I am currently living in Mexico, because I believe, understandably, my life is in danger if I live in the United States.My predators forcibly impoverished me. I am homeless, I’ve almost died twice from exposure, I’m frequently on the verge of starvation. Meanwhile, my predators, these horrific criminals, all men, are living in the homes they own, having their

 careers, safe and sound, living the American dream.I tell almost every American I encounter here my story. The common response is, “Gee, that’s terrible. Our country is so fucked up these days.” I’ve had some better ones, but that’s the common one.Wrong answer.This is not a “Gee, that’s terrible” problem, not if you are an American, and especially, not if you’re a woman.Referring to the beginning of this article, what is happening in the U.S. is worse than what is happening in Iran. The difference is our handlers are a lot more savvy about keeping it hidden from us, the women. We can wear whatever we want to. Some of us, I believe, feel like our lives are pretty free, especially if you keep your head down and don’t “cause any problems”.This will not protect you. There are laws on the books that look like they protect us, but if law enforcement doesn’t enforce them, they are meaningless.The sociopathic response to police corruption is “Defund the Police”. Of course, if you don’t like being policed or being forced to follow laws, that would be your response. The correct response is law enforcement are our employees. We fire them if they don’t do their job, or worse, abuse the power that we are entrusting them with. They have no power on their own, it only comes from the legitimacy of being our civil servants. We train them to protect the innocents (and discern the difference between guilty and innocent), the women and children, free the slaves, and put criminals into jail.So, to all the women in the United States, playing dead won’t save you or us, because you aren’t dead. Complying won’t save you or us.This is one woman’s journey from being excited about working in a new field and bringing other women into it, down into a rabbit hole of horror, realizing that we, as women in the United States, are living in a carefully hidden state of enslavememt.Women have been terrorized into silence and compliance, our press and law enforcement are complicit. There are hundreds of false organizations supposedly to help women and children, to make us safe, to make things just, giving the lie that there is support and protection for us when there isn’t (my exhaustive research into this will be in another article).The men easily shut down our voices or call us crazy when we speak the truth they don’t want to hear, or worse, quietly support our brutal subjugation, hate us. Certainly, our men show little to no interest in protecting our lives, their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters, if it involves putting themselves in danger, financial, spiritual, physical or otherwise. For all these reasons, very few of us, American citizens, are seeing the whole damning picture.From my experience, no man will save us, and they don’t seem to want to, we must save ourselves. Unless we see this as the war for our lives that it is, and fight like hell, things will not change. We cannot allow ourselves to remain divided as the patriarchy has so powerfully done: brought women against women. Unless we work together, it will only get worse.Will you continue to go willingly and obediently to the camps? Or will you stand with me, against slavery, against sociopathic, misogynist, abusive men, against criminals stealing our country, in the Warsaw Ghetto?