Sunday, March 22, 2026

A workplace harassment incident that crossed into stalking - September 2021

When Surveillance Replaces Safety

Symbolic illustration of workplace surveillance showing a worker at a laptop late at night while a shadowy figure watches from outside

In the digital age, intimidation doesn't always knock on the door. 

Sometimes it simply watches.


There are moments in a workplace dispute when something stops feeling like ordinary conflict and begins to feel like intimidation.


This was one of those moments.


It followed my request for agreed boundaries to support a safe work environment — a request that should have been routine, and respected.


Instead, what followed was adverse action, and it was not the first time.


There had already been earlier incidents that raised concerns about monitoring and intimidation.


But this was different.


This was a new level — one that felt covert, calculated, and deeply unsettling.


Late one evening, around 10pm on Friday 24 September 2021, I noticed something unusual on my LinkedIn account.


A profile had viewed my page.


At first glance it looked like a legitimate institutional account connected to my employer.


But it wasn’t.


It was a LinkedIn profile using the university’s logo and branding, with the job title:


“Soldier / Military Officer at Australian Catholic University.”


The problem?


The university does not employ soldiers or military officers.


And within minutes, the profile disappeared.


Fortunately, I captured screenshots before it was deleted.

 

 Fake LinkedIn profile view notification

The screenshot shows the account claiming to be a “Military Officer at Australian Catholic University” viewing my profile.  


When I attempted to search for the account immediately afterward, it had already been removed.

 

Search result showing “No results found”


Why this incident mattered


At the time this occurred, I was already navigating a deeply distressing workplace dispute as an injured worker with a psychological injury.


Regulatory complaints were underway.


Workers’ compensation processes were unfolding.


The situation was already fragile and highly stressful.


Within that context, the sudden appearance of a fake LinkedIn profile using my employer’s branding, late at night, viewing my account and disappearing minutes later, was deeply unsettling.


It did not feel accidental.


It felt like covert monitoring.


Or worse — intimidation.



The digital equivalent of being followed


Workplace intimidation no longer happens only in offices or corridors.


In the digital age it can take other forms:


• anonymous monitoring

• fake online profiles

• covert observation on social media

• behaviour designed to make someone feel watched or unsafe


For someone already experiencing psychological injury, these behaviours can be profoundly destabilising.


They create hyper-vigilance.


They create fear.


They reinforce the feeling that someone is watching — even when you are alone.



Psychological safety is a legal obligation


In Australia, workplace safety law recognises that psychological safety is as important as physical safety.


Under the Work Health and Safety Act 2011 (NSW):


Section 19 — Primary Duty of Care


Employers must ensure, so far as reasonably practicable, the health and safety of workers, including psychological health.


Section 27 — Duty of Officers


Officers of an organisation — including senior executives and governance bodies — must exercise due diligence to ensure the organisation complies with its safety obligations.


This means actively ensuring systems exist to prevent psychological harm.


Section 28 — Duties of Workers


Workers must also take reasonable care that their conduct does not adversely affect the health and safety of others.


Conduct intended to intimidate, harass or psychologically harm another worker may therefore raise serious workplace safety concerns.



Enterprise Agreement obligations


Statutory obligations were not the only safeguards in place.


At the time, the University Staff Enterprise Agreement 2017–2021 also recognised obligations relating to worker safety and workplace conduct.


The Agreement contains provisions addressing:


Workplace bullying


The Agreement recognises workplace bullying as a workplace matter requiring organisational response.  


Consultation on workplace health and safety


The Agreement establishes consultation mechanisms where workplace health and safety matters are reported and discussed with staff representatives.  


Workers’ compensation obligations


It also recognises that absences resulting from work-related injury must be managed in accordance with workers’ compensation legislation and university rehabilitation policies.  


These provisions exist to ensure that when workers are injured or vulnerable, the institution responds with appropriate safeguards.



When safety systems fail


When someone is already a psychologically injured worker navigating a workplace dispute, behaviour that resembles monitoring or intimidation can have a profound impact.


Instead of supporting recovery, the environment becomes threatening.


Instead of restoring trust, it erodes it.


Instead of protecting the vulnerable, the system exposes them to further harm.


Workplace safety laws exist precisely to prevent this.



A reminder to governance and senior leadership


Universities are institutions built on values.


Integrity.

Human dignity.

Justice.

Care for the vulnerable.


But values must be practiced, not simply written in policies.

Under the Work Health and Safety Act, senior officers — including executive leadership and governance bodies — must exercise due diligence to ensure workplace safety systems function effectively.


This responsibility includes ensuring:


• workplace intimidation is not tolerated

• complaints are properly investigated

• injured workers are treated with dignity

• safety systems are functioning as intended


When those safeguards fail, the consequences extend beyond the individual worker.


They affect the integrity of the institution itself.



Questions for governance and the Vice-Chancellor


These events raise important questions for governance and senior leadership.


In particular:


• How does the university ensure that psychologically injured workers are protected from intimidation or harassment during workplace disputes?


• What safeguards exist to prevent misuse of institutional branding or identity online in ways that could intimidate or distress staff?


• When incidents of potential harassment are reported, what processes ensure they are investigated impartially and transparently?


• How does governance assure itself that Work Health and Safety obligations relating to psychological safety are being properly implemented across the institution?


• What oversight mechanisms exist to ensure that workers navigating compensation processes are treated with dignity and respect, consistent with both WHS law and the institution’s own enterprise agreement?


These questions go to the heart of governance responsibility and due diligence.


Under the Work Health and Safety Act 2011 (NSW), officers of an organisation must actively ensure that systems are in place to protect workers from harm.


That responsibility includes psychological harm.


It also includes ensuring that concerns raised by workers are taken seriously and addressed appropriately.


For institutions that publicly commit to values such as human dignity, justice and compassion, the expectation is even higher.



Mission and identity


For institutions grounded in ethical traditions, the responsibility is even greater.


Universities that emphasise values such as human dignity, compassion, justice and truth carry a particular obligation to ensure those values are reflected in their actions.


The treatment of vulnerable workers is one of the clearest tests of whether institutional values are truly embedded in workplace culture.


If dignity is central to an organisation’s mission, it must extend to:


• injured workers

• individuals raising safety concerns

• staff navigating distressing workplace disputes


When safety systems fail those individuals, the gap between institutional values and lived reality becomes impossible to ignore.



Why documentation matters


Digital intimidation often disappears quickly.


Profiles are deleted.


Messages vanish.


Accounts disappear.


Without evidence, incidents like these can easily be dismissed as misunderstandings.


Screenshots captured in real time ensure events are not erased.


They create a record.


And records matter.



Final reflection


A fake LinkedIn profile might appear trivial in isolation.


But in the context of a workplace injury dispute, its impact was profound.


For an injured worker already navigating a complex system, the message it sends is simple:


You are being watched.


Workplace safety is not only about preventing physical harm.


It is about ensuring people feel safe.


Respected.


Protected.


When surveillance replaces safety, something fundamental has gone wrong.


And institutions committed to dignity, justice and truth must be willing to confront that reality.


Source: contemporaneous records of events - Document 197. 

Friday, March 20, 2026

Once We Repaired Things – Part 3

The Peace Before the Unravelling

A moment that felt like peace - before I understood what was underneath it.

 

After that frightening Sunday afternoon — the shocking, destabilising phone call that left me shaken to my core — he called back.

 

Paul had calmed down. He had reflected. And he admitted he had overreacted.


It was a huge overreaction. At the time, that acknowledgment felt like maturity. It felt like strength. It felt like a good man taking responsibility for losing control of his emotions.


I forgave him. 


I was actually proud of him for reflecting and realising that it was an overreaction. 


I believed him when he said he had strong feelings for me. I believed him when he said he had reflected. I believed him when he returned calmer, steadier, aware.


I told him we would take it slowly.


I said we needed quality time — real time — to talk about things. Not surface things. Not reactions. But the deeper things.


Our fears.

Our goals.

Our values.

Our dreams.


I remember saying gently, “I don’t know if you have fears. I know I have fears. What are yours?”


He said, “Oh, I have fears all right.”


He feared ending up alone.


He feared dementia — after witnessing his father’s diagnosis, his deterioration, the gradual loss of himself.


They were human fears. Natural fears. Vulnerable admissions.


I listened carefully and I held that gently. I respected it.


I was treading carefully because I was scared.

But I was hopeful.


It was my last hope.



I didn’t know how I was supposed to be.


In this society, the burden so often seems placed on women — on me — to respond perfectly. To be gentle but not weak. Honest but not confronting. Forgiving but not foolish. Strong but not intimidating. Authentic but not “too much.”


I am flawed like everyone. But I am a good person. I care deeply. I am sincere. I do not need to announce that I am authentic — I live it.


And yet I have tolerated behaviour I should never have tolerated. Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.


But in that moment, I felt peace.


In my heart, I forgave him for what I believed was a one-off overreaction. I thought: Let’s move past this.


I did not respond to every accusation he had made in that earlier call. I wish I had. Later, I would try to explain — because some people say they’ve overreacted, but they don’t truly release what they said. It lingers. It resurfaces. It becomes a quiet ledger.


It’s strange how some people cannot tolerate being treated with even a fraction of the intensity they themselves unleash on others.


But at that time, I felt relief.


I thought:

A good man reflected on a mistake.

A good man realised he had strong feelings for me.

A good man came back.


I felt validated.


Or so I thought.



At the same time, something extraordinary happened in my professional life.


After decades of hard work — since 2001 — I received news that I had earned a promotion in a restructure. A role based on merit. On contribution. On respect. On what I had given to my university community over many years.


It was not charity.

It was not favouritism.

It was earned.


For a brief, shining window of time, everything aligned.


A relationship that felt restored.

A career milestone long deserved.

A new chapter unfolding.


Life felt stable.


Life felt good.


I felt peace.



My birthday was approaching. Then Christmas. Then New Year.


It was going to be a fresh start. A hopeful start.


After everything I had endured — including the devastating loss of my father, who would never walk me down the aisle, never meet grandchildren, never see the fullness of my future — I believed that perhaps goodness had finally found me again.


I had dreams that still had the potential of being fulfilled.


I was dating a man who said he had strong feelings for me and had reflected on his mistake.

I was stepping into a new professional role that would challenge and grow me.

I was looking forward to a year filled with possibility.


For the first time in a long time, I felt peace in my heart. I am emotional even writing that now, because it was real.


The relief was real.

The hope was real.

The gratitude was real.


But what I did not yet understand was that peace built on unresolved patterns is fragile.


What I believed was a mature one-off overreaction would later reveal itself as something deeper. Something repeated. Something more serious than I could see at the time.


It was not simply an overreaction.


The man who feared ending up alone would later create the very loneliness he said he dreaded.


And I am alone now.


And I too feared ending up alone.


That is the part no one sees.


When he spoke about that fear — about watching his father decline, about not wanting to end his life alone — I held that gently.


But I had that fear too.


I just didn’t weaponise it.


I didn’t let it justify destabilising someone else.


I didn’t let it excuse words that would fracture trust.


I carried it quietly.


And now I sit in the very loneliness we both said we were afraid of.


That is the irony.


That is the grief.



And today, I am alone, because of the consequences of his actions and his words — and the humiliation that followed, which I have not yet written about.


There were moments when the grief — the Trauer — was so overwhelming I felt like I was losing my mind. Not because I am unstable. But because repeated destabilisation fractures something inside you.


There is something I understand now that I did not understand then.


When someone repeatedly destabilises you — when hope rises and then collapses again — the nervous system does not feel peaceful.


It feels unsafe.


Relational instability does not land lightly. It lands heavily.


Peace is not absent because I failed spiritually.


Peace feels absent because my body and heart have been through prolonged unpredictability.


That is human.


And I need to speak.


Because I never really got the chance to speak.


Writing is the only place where I can finish a sentence without interruption. The only place where I can communicate the truth — not only to him, but to myself.


For a moment, I felt safe.


For a moment, I believed everything was finally good.


It was a false sense of security.


And I would soon learn the cost of mistaking temporary calm for lasting change.


To be continued…

See also : January 2017 - I felt peace that all was finally well in my life - it lasted only 2 weekshttp://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/01/january-2017-i-felt-peace-that-all-was.html