It's not every day that you can say "Today I got a personalized tweet from someone claiming to be with ISIS." And that's probably a good thing.
It happened like this: The Twitter account of a military spouse who owns a spouse-focused non-profit was hacked by a group apparently affiliated with the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS). The hackers then tweeted messages aimed at specific military spouses, including myself.
"Amy Bushatz! You think you're safe but the IS is already here, #CyberCaliphate got into your PC and smartphone," is, I'm told, what the tweet said (I did not actually see it before it was deleted, presumably by Twitter).
Not long thereafter I received a friend request from someone named "Gasper CyberCaliphate Sadz." When I viewed their profile it was clear that they were not the sort of person I wanted to let into my social life. Within a few seconds the profile had been deleted. And yes, it was really creepy. The same photo and images were used in this account as were used during the CENTCOM hack.
Every spouse quoted in this CNN article was singled out in the tweets.
You might be thinking "that's what you get for being stupid enough to be quoted by name in a CNN article about ISIS and cyber threats." However, the decision to have my name used in that story wasn't a hard one. My name is everywhere -- here, on Military.com and in other national publications. I am a public person. That ship has sailed.
I'm told the FBI is investigating the situation, and all the proper military officials have been notified by those of us involved. My husband suggested I not let anyone dressed as a terrorist into our house.
I want to face this whole situation with a resolute jaw and a loud "being afraid means the terrorists win." I'm not the type of person to live in fear or change my life just because some person on the internet wants to scare me. I've never done that before and I have no intention of doing it now.
Personal attacks bring up a variety of feelings. On the one hand, I'm super pissed. How dare they threaten me and my friends? Then there's the maniacal laughter and the semi-inappropriate jokes about not opening the door for anyone in a bomb vest. I've got lots of those.
But then, underneath all of that somewhere deep in my core, I am trying to shake off the tiniest bit of what feels an awful lot like fear.
Because being singled out by someone claiming to be with a fairly terrifying terrorist organization? That's scary. Knowing that, thanks to my job and public profile, my town of residence, spouse's name and occupation, base, kid's names and more wouldn't take a rocket scientist to locate online? More than unnerving.
But I don't think it's the fear itself that matters. I think it's what I choose to do about the fear that is the key. Do I let it change my habits? Do I ignore it completely and hope nothing bad happens?
Do I use it as a cautionary tale to be more vigilant -- much like you would react to a story of a home robbery in your neighborhood?
Or do I completely change my life, delete my social media presence and lock down my family because I am afraid?
Being afraid doesn't mean the terrorists won -- it's the living in fear that gives them the victory. I'm not giving them the victory.
