There’s a little place in Virginia Beach called Taste. It’s where you go when you want a chicken salad sandwich and a side of social hierarchy — where real estate deals are whispered between bites and power moves are dressed in seersucker and pearls.
It’s also where I learned just how far some people will go to protect their own — and silence anyone who threatens their comfort.
I had just announced my candidacy for the Virginia House of Delegates, challenging Anne Ferrell Tata. At the time, I’d been a licensed real estate professional with Atkinson Realty for nearly a decade — the oldest brokerage in town. My broker was Page Atkinson-Miyares — a woman of standing, grace, and deep Republican roots… and the wife of the Attorney General of Virginia.
I had also just written a piece on Daily Kos, laying bare Anne Ferrell Tata’s alliances with far-right figures like George Allen and Michele Bachmann — the latter having been recently installed as Dean of Government at Regent University — our local Christian university and outgrowth of the 700 Club. This is Pat Robertson country.
In that article, I showed exactly who Tata was by highlighting the company she kept. I included photos. I spoke plainly. (The article linked here is the heavily edited version. It will be clear why the edits were made as you read on.)
The story did well. Really well. It sparked donations, attention, and clearly, discomfort. Because not long after it went up, I got a message from Page Atkinson — my broker at the time, and wife of Virginia’s Attorney General.
She invited me to lunch at Taste.
What followed was one of the most polite, polished acts of political coercion I’ve ever experienced.
Page told me, delicately, that if I was going to run that kind of campaign against a Republican — against Tata, who she said was her friend — I would need to find another place to work.
She asked what I was trying to accomplish. I told her:
“I want to go to Richmond and affect real change.”
She nodded, then suggested I run in (Keeping this name to myself) district instead.
I told her I didn’t live there. She said, “we could move you.”
It’s being whispered now, behind doors and in emails I’m not supposed to see — that Anne Ferrell Tata thinks I’m a bully.
But let me tell you what bullying actually looks like:
It looks like being summoned to lunch by your broker — who just so happens to be married to Virginia’s Attorney General — after you publish a piece calling out a powerful Republican’s extremist affiliations.
It looks like being told — gently, with a smile — that if you want to keep your job, you’ll need to edit your political opinions to fit the room.
It looks like someone suggesting you run in a district where you don’t even live, offering to "move you" like a pawn on a chessboard, all to protect someone else’s political future.
It looks like being pushed to quiet down while your opponent’s friends turn up the heat with privilege, power, and proximity.
And when you comply out of fear — and lose the race anyway — they call you the aggressor when you finally speak up.
Let me be crystal clear:
What happened to me wasn’t politics.
It wasn’t friendship.
And it sure as hell wasn’t mentorship.
After that conversation, I spoke with two attorneys. I kept the text messages. I documented the timeline. Because I wasn’t just uneasy — I was wondering if I’d just had a front-row seat to a soft kind of public corruption. The kind that doesn’t happen in smoke-filled rooms anymore — it happens at Taste, between the iced tea and the check.
So if you hear the whispers that I’m “divisive” or “too loud” or “a bully,” remember what that really means:
It means I won’t be told where to live, who to run against, or what truth is too inconvenient to print.
Because when the wife of the state’s top legal officer pressures a woman to abandon a campaign or sanitize it — all on behalf of her friend, the sitting delegate — that’s not small-town drama.
That’s a threat to democracy.
And the people whispering now? They know it.
It’s past time to talk about Fight Club.
There are 100 of us running as Democrats in Virginia this year.
We outnumber them.
We outwork them.
And we will not let up.
Virginia Democrats are here to send a message — to the rest of the country and the rest of the world:
Trumpism does not reflect the true heart of America.
We believe in democracy, dignity, and a government that serves all of us — not just the loudest, wealthiest, or most well-connected.
This year, we’re not just running.
We’re proving it.
Consider giving to this scrappy candidate, yours truly…
Or, any number of terrific contenders in Virginia this year
