So I met my stalker at my front door when I was 6 months pregnant...

I have spent years recovering from the stalking I experienced in my mid-twenties, and to think of it even now makes my skin crawl. I was stalked by my former stepbrother, and it ruined me. Not only did I have to move multiple times to escape him, but also I had to sacrifice my relationship with my father.<br><br>When I was 19 years old, my father married a wonderful woman named Julie. I wasn’t present at the wedding, but I met her at the reception. Although I never felt close to her, she had two younger sons, Jack (17) and Steven (22). We met a few times, and I thought they were nice. My stepmother and I got along, but she never made an effort to get to know me. I assumed that because I’m a decade older than her children, she felt no need to connect.<br><br>As time went on, I had a falling out with my father and we barely spoke until I had my first child. When my daughter was sixth months old, I was living with my girlfriend and her mother. I was sitting in the living room when my daughter’s father walked in and told me that my stepmother was at the door. I was very puzzled since I hadn’t spoken to anyone in my family for years, and they knew I lived there.<br><br>I made my way to the front door. I was very nervous because I didn’t know why my stepmother was there, so I looked through the peephole. Behind her stood my stepbrother Jack. I quickly opened the door while holding my baby because I wanted him to see that I had moved on with my life and started a family. My stepmother explained that she was in the area for work and thought it would be nice to drop by and visit. I reluctantly let them in, but I told them I wasn’t feeling well and needed help with the baby, so my girlfriend took over entertaining them.<br><br>After they left, I received a text message from my stepbrother asking how I was doing. I brushed it off as small talk. Days went by and he continued sending me texts. He mentioned that he was waiting for me to grow up, and now that I’m older and single, he would like to start a romantic relationship. I was completely disgusted. I told him that I’m in a relationship with a woman and not interested. He was upset, but he continued to text and call me.<br><br>It got to the point where he showed up at my doorstep with wine and flowers, expecting to come in and talk things through. I was so confused how he knew where I lived. I assumed it was my stepmother who told him, but nonetheless, he was not welcome. I told him that if he continued to show up uninvited and harassed me, I would have no problem calling the police and filing for a restraining order.<br><br>I blocked his number, and he immediately started calling me from random numbers. My phone was getting 50 calls a day. I changed my number, but he still showed up at my house frequently. One day, my girlfriend’s mom called me at work and told me that my stepbrother showed up and told her that I sent him to pick up the baby. Thankfully she knew who he was and called the police. They picked him up, but nothing happened except that he spent the night in jail. I felt absolutely hopeless and alone.<br><br>I thought of moving away, but I felt that I was running away from my problem. So I decided to move closer to my job to make it easier. I thought moving to a new city would keep me safe, but he somehow found out where I lived. One night I woke up to him standing in my living room. I was so scared that I couldn’t scream. He was wearing a smile on his face. I didn’t know what to do. He told me that he came to take care of my baby and me, and he would never let anything bad happen. I knew that he was dangerous, so I told him that even though we grew apart, we’re still family.<br><br>He seemed pleased with that answer. He continued to visit me off and on over the next few months. Each time he’d show up, I would play along until he left. For a few weeks, he stopped showing up. I was so relieved until I found a note under my door. It said, “I love you” in red ink. My heart sank. I knew that he was still watching me, and I was in real danger.<br><br>I knew I had to disappear. So I packed up all of my belongings and moved to a new city, hoping that I’d never see him again. I kept a low profile, never told anyone where I was, and it paid off. I felt safe. I spent years rebuilding my life. I started a business, made wonderful friends, and started a new relationship. I started to heal, both physically and emotionally.<br><br>Weeks ago, I got a voicemail from an unknown number. It was a woman who claimed to be my stepbrother’s wife. She said that she found my number in his phone and wanted to know if we were still in contact. I was taken aback. I didn’t know what to say. I told her I hadn’t spoken to him in years and had no idea if he was doing well. She told me that he had passed away. I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me felt relieved that he was gone, while another part of me felt sorry for him.<br><br>It’s been a few weeks since I got the news, and I still can’t believe it. I keep thinking that it’s a scam, and he’ll show up at my door tomorrow, but I also know that it’s possible. I still fear him. But no matter where life takes me, I will always think of him. I will never forget when he showed up at my doorstep when I was six months pregnant.<br><br>**EDIT: I thought that since there were so many questions, I would add a few things to clarify. I did call the police and file reports every time, but to no avail. Unfortunately, unless you have actual proof of stalking, you can’t file for a restraining order. The fact that he was family made it harder because my father was mad at me that I got my stepmother involved in our family drama. I also never told my family that I’m a lesbian because I knew they’d disapprove. My daughter’s father’s mom was acting as my mother since mine passed away when I was a teenager. I did warn her about my stepbrother, and she knew of the history. She was my only hope since my father wouldn’t help me. I also blocked my stepmother on all platforms, so I’m not sure what she knew or didn’t know. And finally, when he broke into my house, I was so in shock that I didn’t call the police. A few months later, he visited again, and that time, I called them. By the time they arrived, he was long gone. Unfortunately, my saga with my former stepbrother didn’t end well for either of us.