Welcome To Massillon

“I had much to learn. One might say I was a little naïve about how much football mattered in this town of roughly 20,000 people. And maybe—just maybe—I didn’t think everything through before posting on social media…”
—Becca Moore (Chapter 12)

If there’s one thing I learned fast, it’s this: when you post on social media, you better think twice. Because once it’s out there, it’s forever. Social media doesn’t just observe—it becomes the judge, the jury, and the sentencing. And when you strike a match, the road back is long and unforgiving.

That first year and a half, I put Nate through the wringer. Many people didn’t think we would survive it—personally or professionally. But what I endured during that time became an education I never asked for and one I couldn’t have learned any other way. How I was treated, what was said about me, and the way narratives were formed prepared me to better protect my kids—and the kids I worked with—for what they would one day face themselves.

If you wrote it, tweeted it, texted it, or had the courage to say it to my face—I documented it. Screenshots. Notes. Saved in a folder. It became part of my quote book. It became fuel. It may have even found its way into these pages. And no, I didn’t black out names—because social media is forever, and accountability matters.

I chose not to let the hate harden me. Instead, I turned it into a lesson. A teaching moment for young girls learning how to stand tall when the world tries to tear them down online. It strengthened my daughter. It sharpened her awareness. And yes, it made her a little more cautious of social media—but also far more confident in who she is.

What was meant to break me became purpose.
What was meant to silence me became voice.