This isn’t a story of a fallout or misunderstanding.
There was no relationship, no friendship, not even a conversation of substance.
Madeline S. Fleigle followed me on Facebook during my time as a monetized content creator. That was the extent of our contact. Everything that followed came from her.
Uninvited. Unreciprocated. Unhinged.
What began as a follow turned into obsessive surveillance, false claims of friendship, bizarre allegations, years of cyber stalking, and ultimately a federal DoJ investigation.
She added every person close to me that she could find, including my childhood friends, my husband, even his college friends.
Madeline S. Fleigle gave my phone number out to strangers and told them I was dangerous.
She told a Maricopa judge, under oath, that she had people harass and send me death threats because she thought I deserved it.
She gave Ramsey County Second Judicial District a 20 year old address pulled from Google. Her friends at the courthouse pushed a falsified Harrasment Restraining Order through: unserved, unsigned and legally void. I never knew the order existed until long after it had been stamped and filed.
And by then, Madeline S. Fleigle had circulated it in group chats, weaponized it in public, and framed it as “proof” to support a defamation campaign she orchestrated herself.
Madeline S. Fleigle isn’t just a liar. She’s a pattern. She’s run this play before, under nearly a dozen aliases including but not limited to: Madeline Machla Lee, Madeline Sally Machla Lee, Leelee Cocodrie, Lee Crocos, Pojo Kutty, Pojo Kutty HaZonah, Pojo Rahab, Sakhavu Pojo, Sakhav HaZonah Pojo.
Each name comes with a new backstory, a new platform, a new wave of damage. She claims to be a survivor, an educator, an advocate, but in practice, she uses that language as cover for control.
She doesn’t mitigate harm, she manufactures it. Then she monetizes it by begging for mutual aid to pay for her legal mistakes.
She lied to the court to get a restraining order. She lied online to justify it. And when the facts started catching up, she deleted posts, edited timelines, and leaned harder into the role of the persecuted activist. Meanwhile, I faced death threats, coordinated harassment, cyber stalking, and real-world fallout: all for ignoring a stranger who didn’t like being ignored.
She claims to speak Tamil, Hindi, Japanese, and Malayalam. That’s not diversity, it’s strategy. She seeks out men who speak them too, inserts herself into cultural and linguistic spaces, and spins a narrative tailored to each audience. Then she wipes the slate and starts again. But this time, the evidence didn’t disappear. Her words. Her usernames. Her history. It’s all intact.
This isn’t petty. It’s precise. It’s provable. It’s about a person who uses identity politics as a mask, weaponizes institutions for personal vendettas, and uses social media harassment campaigns to force her victims into silence.