In most states, people who experience a violation inside their home can expect the justice system to weigh context, vulnerability, and power imbalance.
Wyoming is different.
Under the lease structures commonly used across Laramie and much of the state, any tenant who brings a case to court—and loses—can be forced to pay the landlord’s legal fees, no matter how high they escalate them.
On paper, it looks neutral.
In real life, it punishes victims for trying to seek justice.
My case exposed exactly why this system goes unchecked: because almost no one can afford to challenge it.
1. The Fee-Shifting Clause Was Never Meant for Cases Like Mine
These lease clauses assume:
- both parties have equal power,
- both are fighting over money,
- both are on level ground.
But my case wasn’t a contract dispute.
It was a privacy violation, an indecency exposure, and a moment of profound vulnerability where I was naked on my own couch and my landlord walked in without consent.
Applying a financial punishment to a victim who was seeking accountability does not promote justice.
It discourages justice.
2. The System Allows the Defense to Spend Without Limits — Because I Pay If They Win
Once I refused a symbolic, bad-faith settlement offer—one they knew no reasonable person would accept—the defense suddenly had no financial restraint:
- thousands in document printing
- flying witnesses in instead of using Zoom
- premium court reporters
- hours of billed preparation
- every costly option available
These weren’t necessities.
They were choices—choices that made sense only if they believed the judge would make me pay them.
And in the end, that’s exactly what happened.
3. The Power Imbalance Is Built Into the System
For a tenant in Wyoming, fighting a case like this requires:
- the emotional resilience to endure a year of litigation,
- the intelligence to understand complex legal traps,
- the financial stability to risk catastrophic costs,
- the mental stamina to withstand pressure,
- the professional flexibility to attend hearings and trial.
Most victims don’t have these resources.
A single mother working at a gas station couldn’t do this.
A college student couldn’t do this.
A minimum-wage worker couldn’t do this.
And the system relies on that silence.
The fact that I had a good job, education, emotional insight, and the ability to organize evidence allowed me to fight back—yet even with all of that, I still ended up facing fees equivalent to a University of Wyoming degree.
If someone in my position can be financially crushed for asserting their rights, what hope does anyone else have?
4. This Is What Systemic Corruption Looks Like — Even When No One Calls It That
Corruption isn’t always bribes or conspiracy.
Often, it’s a system that:
- protects institutions,
- protects landlords,
- minimizes victims,
- punishes those who speak up,
- discourages others from trying,
- and leaves individuals without meaningful protection.
By allowing the landlord to spend freely and shift every dollar onto the victim, the system ensures that almost no tenant ever challenges misconduct.
My case wasn’t an anomaly — it was the blueprint.
5. The Reason You Don’t Hear Stories Like Mine Is Because Almost No One Survives Them
People ask:
“Why hasn’t this been challenged before?”
The answer is simple:
Because the people most harmed by these practices don’t have the support, stability, or safety to survive the fight.
Because to even attempt justice, you have to risk ruin.
Because the emotional and financial toll silences most before they begin.
I had the resources, the evidence, the drive—and I still walked away with debt that could break most people.
This isn’t just my story.
It’s a window into a system that harms the vulnerable, protects the powerful, and punishes anyone who dares to challenge the imbalance.
And that’s why I’m speaking out.