As Conspiracy Brews

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Hello and happy Sunday.

As I’ve learned over time, humility is one of life’s greatest teachers. Moments of contrast—of discomfort—are often what push us to evolve into better versions of ourselves. No one wants their lowest moments on public display, but that’s exactly where I found myself.

Compiled pressures and ragged defense triggered the worst version of me, overwhelmed by a perfect storm of stressors. Any new details I know will only fuel a narrative I can’t control. The prevailing plot from the loudest voice wins.

I spent hours yesterday drafting an emotional response, trying to fill in the missing details and provide context for the events of this week. It was a chaotic mess of viral rage, heartbreak, and layers of betrayal. But after waking up today and reflecting, I realized the story has already been hijacked. It’s been spun into something so convoluted it borders on comical. 

The story now entails bizarre accusations involving Israel. I just saw a video of Rabbi Shmuley inviting Candace Owens to another debate WWF style. I don’t know how it got here, but apparently, I’m being blamed for attempting to “take down” RFK, even though all I’ve ever done is support him. I wish I could see how this makes sense when ironically, the people making these claims are the ones actively working against him to shape a narrative based on rumors they have not verified. 

Meanwhile, Americans aren’t invested in rumors about his personal life—they want him to fix the food and the water. To heal our children. He just cleaned out the toxins in baby formula. No one cares what he does on his own time with other consenting adults when we have a country to save.

Trump is also accused of being compromised by blackmail. Hard to believe considering he is one of the least controllable people in politics.

The ones reporting that Bobby is being blackmailed also admit that they have not actually seen the blackmail, nor do they know the blackmailers who allegedly have. It appears sources feeding them this disinformation are trying to create fear and uncertainty around him to undermine a key figure in Trump’s administration. He is making big moves and drastic changes. Enemies affected are surely trying to capsize him any way they can. I don’t know how I fit in. Any videos I have of Bobby are him on the campaign trail and with family. 

My newsletter just turned three. In this transition, I have stumbled often and made plenty of mistakes along the way. My life changed faster than I could process. As I grew, my family felt the pressure of mounting online hate. We went from being genuinely loved online to being scrutinized under a public microscope. Overnight, I had one of the most-read newsletters on the platform. 

I realize there is a growing push to “cancel” me. I don’t blame anyone who unsubscribes from my newsletter, but I will not stop writing. I don’t care if it reaches an audience of 500k or 50. We watched our president get up after a bullet. Politics is a blood sport. If you believe in what you’re doing, you always get back up. The stories I share here feed my purpose. Purpose paves new paths. The media landscape is shifting. We knew it was going to be a turbulent toss. 

The war inside feels more literal than metaphorical at the moment, but I’m committed to moving through the shift with stronger, sharper vision. I am sad about what has happened with some people I will always love and care about, even if they can’t be in my life for reasons I won’t get into here. I don’t regret choosing to break away based on incidents left unsaid. Any mother would. I regret some of my behavior in the throes of the worst of the breakdown of those relationships. It’s weird to be a public person when things break down. I haven’t figured out how to navigate that. I hope you’ll extend me some grace while I try. 

This month swept in like a tornado—just as every cryptic astrology meme warned it would. Retrograde on violent tilt. A moon, swallowed in an eclipse. The moment I stepped outside the White House, everything around me shifted. I feel like I woke up to sharks. 

Random resentments surfaced. Tensions grew. 

A week after my White House visit, I published an article asking: Who do you trust in media? It felt like a timely question, especially amid the turbulence surrounding Trump’s return. I wrote about how women like me—who don’t fit neatly into any media category—are often dismissed. The irony is, that we’re actually the ones who hold the attention of the most profitable demographic in the industry. It was a frustration I felt worth sharing—especially when it comes to labels like “mommy blogger,” which are meant to diminish.

My piece was not a hit job on anyone. I didn’t attack Candace Owens, Tucker Carlson, or Ian Carroll. I simply shared my perspective, like any cultural commentator has the right to do.

Days after my White House access was announced, combined attacks began to take shape. Laura Loomer—who reportedly didn’t secure access requested—accused me of secretly filming the Trump family without their knowledge. I was invited by the host of the MAGA boat parade to photograph Lara and Eric Trump. I interviewed Carolina Trump, who predicted her grandfather would win. It was adorable. Lara reposted it.

As for the conspiracy theories, let me clear some things up: 

Yes, I’m still a registered Democrat. I voted left my entire life—until 2020, when I quietly voted for Trump. I have written about this. It’s not a secret. It’s a part of the story I’ve been sharing with all of you. I don’t feel pressed or obligated to change my party affiliation, and on the campaign trail—with my schedule moving so fast—it wasn’t an option anyway. This time around, I chose not to vote at all. I want to remain untethered to any party if I’m going to track politics as a career. That’s a personal decision—not a “secret” exposed.

Yes, according to campaign finance disclosures, I donated to the Biden campaign in 2020 — not because I made a donation, but because I bought merch to use as props in a reel still on my feed today. But if I had really donated, why would that even matter? I don’t see why the independent media should hold fellow practitioners to standards of purity we don’t even hold our elected or government officials to. Donald Trump donated to Hillary Clinton — he’s never had a problem admitting it. RFK and Tulsi Gabbard were Democrats recently, too. I thought we liked the concept of the unity party?   

No, I didn’t receive any videos at the Butler rally, as some have claimed. I didn’t even have reliable Wi-Fi that day. I remember, because I was frustrated that I couldn’t post in real time.

No, I’m not part of a CIA operation, nor am I blackmailing anyone in politics. 

No, nothing I own is funded by foreign investors. My office landlord sells saffron, not weapons or sex secrets. 

The mysterious license plate on the bus is just a bizarre coincidence. I wrote about it here.

Though I will admit, the vision of two conniving women sailing around PCH plotting political takedowns in a rusty old European stick shift bus with Olivia Nuzzi at the wheel and Bill Clinton directing us on radio is utterly amusing.

And no, I’m not plotting to destroy anyone in the media. A conspiracy that went from confusing to comical spun by Ian, Candace, and a former employee, all rooted in unfounded hearsay. I didn’t draft a hit piece—my former employee did. She and everyone involved knows that. I didn’t publish it. That crucial fact seems to be getting lost. 

Olivia’s involvement has the internet in a chokehold thanks to this wild framing. The truth is comparatively boring. 

Olivia and I were friends before the scandal with RFK. We are friends now, after it. The how and why of that is hard to get into in the particulars at this time. So what I will say is that I constantly have people floating in and out of my life and timeline. I do not hold grudges, and I am not vindictive. The one time I was, as it related to my coverage of her, I was redeemed by the fact that Olivia doesn’t hold grudges and she’s not vindictive. When I need advice about logistical editorial stuff and also understanding who is who in the political scene, she’s helpful. She’s been helpful with all of that since I’ve known her. 

I don’t care if anyone is liberal-leaning, and the only views I’ve ever heard her express are related to her general skepticism of power. People forget that Olivia wrote the story that prompted Biden to have to swiftly step down. She’s a registered independent, but even if she wasn’t, party ties should not determine friendships, and I’m still not sure why forgiveness is such a crime. 

Since it is of such consuming interest: Olivia rejected an offer by New York Mag to write a tell-all about RFK Jr. to keep her job. She’s rejected every other offer to write a tell all. She hasn’t said a word about any of it, even as so many words have been said about her, even when her silence has been at the expense of her own reputation. If this is a blackmail campaign, it’s a bad one. Yet, it seems the public won’t be happy until a disgraced journalist drives her car off a cliff. 

And speaking of which: No, she has never borrowed my van. 

As for the edit in question: She told me once—her point of view: the best way to change something is to involve yourself in it. In that spirit, one afternoon at my office, she jotted down the definition of libel in a notebook and walked me through how press freedom laws work—what qualifies as reckless disregard for the truth, and what counts as actual malice. 

I asked if she could read the hit piece my former employee drafted. She read it and said it was unpublishable. “If you’re going to hit someone, it has to be clean,” she said, slipping into newsroom speak. Then she explained: I could publish criticism of anyone—but it had to be fair and factual, and what my former employee wrote wasn’t. 

I didn’t publish the piece. I suggested edits that would make a version of the piece publishable — a normal part of the editorial process at a publication that I founded and run myself and where I make all editorial decisions independently. The suggestion did not go over well, to say the least. And the rest, well, you may have seen some of it play out in ugly fashion on social media. 

If this is what you want to see more of online, I have nothing of interest to you here or going forward.

No. me and Olivia are not Mossad (I can’t believe I’m even writing that). And no, she’s not my secret CIA companion compiling blackmail for Bill Clinton. 

Not everything is so serious. Or it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes, you write a hit piece on someone, and they respond with forgiveness and by encouraging you not to write hit pieces in the future about other people. Other times, you write innocuous criticism of someone, and they respond with vitriol by erroneously calling it a hit piece.  

My personal life is mine to navigate. Even when humiliated, I don’t owe anyone an explanation about the company I keep. My circle is diverse—politicians, artists, writers, federal inmates, PTA moms, some of the richest people in the country, some of the poorest, local surfers, controversial figures, and Bud Siegel, my pseudo life coach who I randomly met in a parking lot in LA.

I know many would like to see my access revoked. The pitchforks are out, and I’m being mocked for wearing designer loafers and attending red carpet events tied to campaigns I covered for a year. She talks to a camera in a studio. I embed myself in real scenes, observing people, lens outward facing. We have different styles. This feels like the angle now is verging on petty bullying between women. 

Maybe that’s fair. I don’t know. But I can’t help thinking of all the men in the media who get away with worse and never make headlines. I thought we’d moved past canceling women we don’t like—but maybe I was wrong.

Women love watching women at war with each other.

I’ve learned so much about how conspiracies are born. Being at the center of it, I’ll be far more discerning in how I report similar scenarios moving forward.

As for the White House, when I reached out, someone close to the president said, and I quote: “He does not give a flying fuck about any of this.”

I’m signing off and officially disengaging.

We have a country to save and media wars to win.

Thank you for reading.

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For Further Reading, Consider: Aaron Everitt’s Substack

Up Ahead: Moscow Murders update / JFK file hearing recap