Hi, my name is Lauren Linnebur. I am a 29-year-old woman reclaiming my life and fighting for justice and protection after surviving extreme abuse and false-imprisonment at the hands of my ex-husband.

In 2022, my abuser isolated me in an RV in the Nevada desert, where he psychologically, sexually, and physically tortured me for 7 months. He beat and raped me on a near-daily basis, fired guns at me, trafficked me, denied me water and sleep, poured soap in my eyes, forced me to eat sand, dirt, and joint butts, humiliated me, played russian roulette with my life and sadly, so much more. My victim impact statement, included below, goes into further detail.

He recorded his abuse of me, and I have hours upon hours of that footage and audio.

In 2023, I fled my abuser and went into hiding for nearly a year. I have been pursuing justice and protection through the legal system ever since. So far, he has only been sentenced to 30 days in jail and 7 years probation for a felony violation of my protective order in Texas.

He has not been charged for any of his crimes against me in Nevada, despite my repeated efforts and mountains of evidence.

I have flown to Nevada twice to file police reports with the Nye County Sheriff's Department - first in September 2023, after which I never received any follow-up and was later told by the department that they had "no record" of my report.

I flew out and filed again in May 2025, and there has still been no movement on my case. I have spent over a year trying to reach the detective assigned to my case and keep getting the runaround, all while my abuser remains free, able to hurt me or others, with the system showing him time and again that there are no real consequences for his actions.

He spent 18 months on house arrest and violated it numerous times without consequence. He violated his bond conditions repeatedly without consequence. He has gone on to harm others and commit subsequent crimes, again without consequence.

In June 2026, I shared a video of my abuse, and it gained attention on Instagram (@rickyylaurenn).

Since then, I've received an outpouring of love and support, and many people have asked how they can help. This GoFundMe is in response to all of the requests I have received for a platform through which to donate, to support me as I work to rebuild my life and continue fighting for protection and justice.

Please follow my Instagram, @RICKYYLAURENN, for real-time updates on my pursuit of criminal prosecution and to view evidence from my case.

Thank you for all the love and support, and for having my back. I've been fighting alone for years - bleeding dry financially, retraumatized by the very system that's supposed to protect me, and continuously harassed by my ex. This is the first time I haven't felt alone, and I can't tell you how much weight you've lifted off me by being here with me in this chapter. Thank you. Thank you.

Below is my victim impact statement that I read in court for his violation of protective order felony charge:

Your Honor, I stand before you today not just as a victim of a repeated violation of a protective order, but as someone who has lived through the relentless, violent, and at times deranged behavior of this man. I need the court to understand the gravity of who we are dealing with. This is not just a minor infraction; this is part of a deeply disturbing pattern of intentional harm.

Your Honor, I ask for patience today as I go into details in my statement. I cannot speak to the weight that these repeated violations have had on me without telling the court the context leading up to violations.

Your Honor, I am here before you today as a 28-year-old woman who has spent the last two years of my life escaping My Abuser and fighting for my safety. My story, however, does not being only two years ago. I have been suffering at the hands of My Abuser since I was just 19 years old, freshly out of high school, while My Abuser was a 31-year-old man - Twelve years my senior. What should have been a professional relationship quickly became something far more exploitative and predatory: a rushed marriage that involved grooming, control, abuse and calculated and intentional harm - leaving me with lasting scars.

In the early years of our marriage, My Abuser did what abusers do: he wore me down, he isolated me from my family and friends, he controlled every aspect of my life and eroded my voice, my confidence, my identity and my self esteem. He was deeply psychologically abusive, sexually exploitative and instilled a constant sense of fear in me.

By year 4, the abuse became monstrous- physically violent, sexually perverse and coldly calculated.

He tortured me — methodically, deliberately, and with unmistakable intent.

He brought me to a remote desert in Nevada.

There, he isolated me — completely.

No neighbors.

No help.

And for seven months,

He beat me and raped me on a near-daily basis.

He starved me of water and sleep.

He tied my wrists.

He forced me to hold painful, humiliating physical positions — for hours.

He shot at me.

Multiple times.

And after one shot missed, he even mocked the danger, acknowledging that ricochets can be lethal and yet he still chose to do it.

Another time, I had my back to him and he narrowly missed - with the bullet going over my shoulder.

He beat me while I was holding my cat, a cat that’s incredibly near and dear to me that I have had since I was 6 years old.

He threw eggs at me.

And made me eat them — shells and all.

He held my head back and poured half a bottle of dial soap in my eyes.

He watched me suffer for hours before finally letting me rinse my eyes in a moth-infested hot tub that he closed on top of me.

In this moment, I felt both fortunate and terrified as I snuck a few gulps — because he was not allowing me to drink water.

He beat me as he walked me backwards for 90 feet.

He made me throw my wedding band into the desert brush.

Which at the time, devastatingly broke my heart.

He made me eat dirt.

Sand.

Marijuana butts.

He slammed my head into the ground until I blacked out.

He held a gun to my stomach — Powerless, I watched while he toyed with whether or not to fire.

He held my face to a burning gas stove and told me:

“You’ll never be pretty again.”

He faked his own suicide.

Right after my uncle had actually taken his own life.

He kept my phone from me for extended periods.

He sent himself private and intimate things of mine, dating back to when I was 12 years old.

He deleted a tremendous amount of things I can never get back.

Photos. Messages.

Pieces of my life that are now gone.

He used that same access to contact dozens of my friends and people I knew,

To tell them lies, to smear my name, to destroy my reputation and further isolate me from anybody who might support me.

To this day, some of those relationships are not healed.

The psychological abuse was relentless.

He accused me of cheating with dozens, even hundreds of men.

He manipulated me into believing that my own family had abused me,

that they had prostituted me.

He told me I was committing shameful acts that I couldn’t remember. He went as far as to stage scenarios to make me question reality and my own sanity.

He became obsessed with the idea that I was poisoning him.

And he held me at gun point and beat me repeatedly,

With the intent of beating a confession out of me.

He hoped to use a false-confession as a self-defense claim if his abuse ever came to light.

This man doesn’t just abuse.

He plots.

He schemes.

And he tries to cover his tracks.

My Abuser kept me from my family during two major deaths —

the first two losses my family had ever experienced.

One of those deaths was my grandfather.

My favorite person in the entire world.

And on the day he died…

My Abuser raped me.

While pretending to be him.

He demanded I call him “Grampy” —

the same loving name I had always called my grandfather.

And he didn’t stop there.

He did this with other family members too.

He raped me while pretending to be them or demanding that we imagine they were participating.

He raped me — regularly.

He said he was training me… to be a sex slave.

He would force me to endure hours and hours of physically and mentally demanding rapes.

He told me he got off on beating me.

He even ejaculated at the mere thought of beating me.

He fantasized about targeting the most vulnerable —

the elderly, the disabled, even children.

And he didn’t whisper these things in shame.

He spoke about them proudly.

A significant part of my torture was being forced to listen to these fantasies.

He expressed, in elaborate detail, his belief that society could be "sexually liberated" if parents had sex with their children starting from birth.

And it did not stop at words. He would show me photographs and videos of young children on social media, pointing to them and stating his desire to rape them or pay to have them raped.

When I would recoil in horror and discomfort - he would punish me for not participating in his fantasies. My refusal to engage became a trigger for my abuse.

He took his abuse to a place most people cannot even imagine.

In June of 2023, I was able to leave My Abuser.

That’s when the reality of the man I married, and everything I had endured, began to sink in.

Including the reality that My Abuser had documented everything….

His cruelty. His control. His crimes. He left a trail of his own abuse.

Your Honor,

Much of what I’ve shared with you today —

He video and audio recorded.

Some of the recordings were even done in interview-style settings —

As if my suffering was something to direct and capture…em.)

While I spent months going through all the evidence in hiding,

My Abuser continued to harass me.

He showed up in the middle of the night

and banged around the outside of my home —for hours.

I had nightmares following that event for weeks.

He circled my house throughout all hours of the night.

He would try to contact me to no end.

And by August of 2023,

I had secured an ex parte protective order.

But that didn’t stop My Abuser.

He was relentless.

Calling, texting, messaging

from different numbers and different accounts —

I became terrified of my own phone.

I began to bear witness to my own trauma. How my body was responding.

I shook almost constantly.

I jumped at the sound of nearly anything - routinely, even just my AC turning on.

My nervous system was stuck - frozen in a state of high alert and terror.

And every time My Abuser contacted me, it sent a shock through my entire system.

I was terrified.

So I kept my head down.

I was silent toward him.

I was silent online.

I went into hiding.

Over the last two years,

I have moved ten times in attempts to make sure My Abuser didn’t know where to find me.

I’ve hidden my personal vehicle and have switched between rental cars repeatedly.

I’ve bled dry financially just to stay alive.

And for nearly an entire year, I was too terrified to leave my house.

Night after night, I lived like prey and in constant fear.

I sat awake,

peeking out the blinds,

trying to breathe through the fear —

coming to terms with everything he showed me he was capable of.

Still - He violated my protective order —

Again and again. I remained his victim.

He tried to extort my mother.

He sent nude photos of me to others.

He weaponized welfare checks repeatedly.

He made reports to the police that I had poisoned him —

and then asked officers to bring him to me under the pretense of checking on my safety.

He told the world he was “a man on a mission.”

He posted endless lies about me online.

He launched a full-blown smear campaign.

He called me an attempted murderer.

A thief.

A prostitute.

He wrote that I was “probably buried somewhere”

He turned strangers against me.

He rallied an entire Facebook community

to hate me, to attack me.

He mocked my abuse.

He made himself the victim.

And to this day —

he still does.

In a disgusting insult to the Me Too movement,

he — a known abuser — started a “He Too” movement.

He even asked for donations.

He campaigned, I quote:

“Ever heard ‘all they gotta do is accuse you’ and your whole life is ruined?

Time we all had a war chest and an ability to fight against the very real abuse we endure every day. Good men are forced into exile. It stops now.”

We need our voice too.”

Meanwhile - I was the one in exile.

And I hadn’t said a word.

Not publicly.

Not about what he did.

Not even in response to his harassment or online abuse.

He was creating a false narrative — preemptively —

To make people believe he was the victim and to scare me into silence.

And to this day,

he shows no remorse.

After the court issued a two-year protective order with a finding of family violence,

he walked out of the courthouse and posted online:

that he was “off and running,” on course to changing the world and

that he was feeling “bombastic,”

alongside a smiling photo of himself outside the courthouse.

He was court-ordered to complete BIPP (The Batterers Intervention Prevention Program).

He heard the judge’s findings of family violence.

He was served a protective order.

And still — as recently as a few months ago,

he was asking me to reconcile.

And continues to deny ever laying a hand on me.

In March, I started to speak out about his abuse publicly for the first time. Subsequently - he violated my protective order once again.

And all the while, he hasn’t just been terrorizing my life.

He has been victimizing others during this same time. Most of those charges have been dropped, some of the victims have chosen not to pursue justice because they - understandably so - just want to move on with their lives.

Victims from the past, as well, are fearful to come forward out of fear of My Abuser’s retaliation.

My Abuser’s actions have left lasting scars on my life and the lives of others.

I have been yearning for a sense of security and I have been fighting for justice.

He has violated my protective order, violated his house arrest, violated his conditions of bond, committed additional crimes - on many numerous occasions. I don’t feel any sense of assurance that he will abide by the law going forward.

Additionally, it is deeply concerning to me that this will be his second dismissal of a felony drug possession charge. Drugs have been a part of his pattern of abuse. To let him off twice is injustice in preventing this man from causing further harm.

And I fear what message this will send him…

When the gravity of his behavior

the repeated violations,

The subsequent crimes,

the disturbing patterns,

And the intentional disregard for the law —

Is met with just 30 days in jail.

I remain in fear.

And I don’t get to move on as easily.

He didn’t just hurt me in the moment —

he rewired my entire sense of safety, of reality.

But after everything I have endured, I stand here today not as someone who is broken, but as someone determined to ensure he is held accountable. I refuse to let his actions define me, and I will not stop speaking my truth or seeking justice.

Thank you