When He’s a Different Person Behind Closed Doors

 

You’ve probably never heard of Joel Runnels PhD— but in certain circles in Minnesota, he’s considered a quiet hero. A legislative affairs director who has dedicated decades of his professional life to disability rights and working for Minnesota Council on Disability, Joel is the kind of man who shows up at public hearings, writes compassionate policy briefs, and speaks with moral authority about equity, justice, and the need to protect society’s most vulnerable. He works closely with the Deaf community, disabled children, and families who rely on state policy to survive.

But I knew another Joel. One who existed far away from the polished conference tables and media headlines. One whose mask would fall the moment the doors closed. And I’m finally ready to talk about him.

This isn’t an exposé for the sake of revenge. This is my truth — and it’s also a mirror. Because too often, the people we are told to admire and trust the most are the very ones causing silent destruction behind the scenes.

The Man Behind the Mask

I met Joel in 2025. We met online during my travel to Central Asia, and it felt serendipitous at first. Here was a man who was mature, grounded, articulate, and deeply connected to meaningful work. I admired that. We spoke about politics, the state of the world, human rights, and mutual dreams of travel.

He told me he was single and never been married. Lonely. But ready to build something new.

I believed him.

But what I didn’t know was that behind the thoughtful messages and late-night phone calls was a man living a lie. A married man. A father. A skilled manipulator who could craft a story so convincing, even my instincts — normally sharp and cautious — got dulled in the glow of his charm.

Joel didn’t just omit truths. He invented stories. Misled me about his whereabouts and relationships. He built an entire alternate identity — complete with a narrative that positioned him as a victim of past emotional neglect and someone craving intimacy and connection.

He preyed on my empathy. He mirrored my values. He love-bombed. And then, when the lies unraveled, he disappeared.

The Cruel Paradox of His Public Work

What struck me the hardest was the contrast. The brutal irony. Joel isn’t just a man with a good job — he’s the Legislative Affairs Director at a Minnesota state agency, tasked with shaping policies that affect disabled people and marginalized communities. He’s the face behind disability justice advocacy in the legislature. He drafts bills. He meets with lawmakers. He claims to center equity, dignity, and truth.

But how can someone who claims to fight for truth lie so relentlessly in his personal life?

How can a man who tells the world he protects the disabled emotionally abuse a woman who trusted him?

And how can someone speak about mental health policies while refusing to acknowledge the emotional manipulation and psychological damage he inflicts?

This is what people don’t often understand: many abusers are high-functioning. They are not unshaven shadows lurking in alleyways. They are award-winning teachers, respected executives, family men. Some of them know exactly how to craft empathy in public while privately wounding those closest to them.

Joel is, by all signs, a pathological liar. He lies easily, without remorse, and often unnecessarily. When confronted, he deflects, gaslights, or abruptly vanishes instead of taking accountability. He exhibits patterns that mirror manic or narcissistic behavior, and if I’m honest, I believe he’s battling serious untreated mental health issues — possibly even a personality disorder.

But none of that excuses the harm he caused.

It only deepens the urgency for accountability.

Behind Closed Doors: The Reality He Hides

Joel told me I was the one he had been searching for. That he felt safe with me. That he had never felt more understood. We planned to meet. We talked about traveling to Japan and Turkey and so on, about spiritual growth, about building a future.

All while his wife and daughter lived in the same house back in USA.

All while he maintained his position as an advocate for justice.

All while he knew he was living two lives.

When I began to suspect the truth, I confronted him. I asked for clarity. I asked for honesty. His response wasn’t courage — it was cowardice. He blamed me. He disappeared. He resurfaced only to accuse me of “making drama” and went silent again. No apology. No reckoning. Just more lies and deflections.

I was left with emotional whiplash, self-doubt, and rage. But most of all, I was left with questions. Not just about him — but about the systems that protect men like him.

Why I’m Speaking Now

You might be wondering why I’m sharing this. Isn’t it private? Shouldn’t it stay between us?

No. Not when he’s a public figure in charge of advocating for people’s lives and wellbeing. Not when his career is built on trust, but his personal life is steeped in betrayal and harm.

This is about more than a broken heart. It’s about integrity. It’s about the disconnect between public persona and private behavior. And it’s about the countless women like me who are manipulated, erased, and discarded by men who know exactly how to play the hero in public while causing harm in the shadows.

By telling my story, I’m refusing to be erased. I’m refusing to let his narrative be the only one that survives.

Because behind every policy speech, every social media post about “justice” and “compassion,” there’s a real man who looked me in the eyes and lied. Repeatedly. Boldly. Cruelly.

And if he can do it to me, what else is he capable of?

The Bigger Picture

There is a deeper sickness here. A societal pattern. We celebrate men for being “feminist,” “empathetic,” or “allies” without asking: Are they living those values at home? Are they honest with the women in their lives? Do they treat people with care, even when no one’s watching?

Joel didn’t. And yet, he still enjoys the respect of his colleagues, the silence of his institution, and the protective mask of his position.

That silence enables harm. It’s not neutral. It’s complicit.

I hope others will see the signs I missed: love-bombing, vague answers, defensiveness when asked direct questions, sudden shifts in behavior when truth comes too close. I hope more women will speak up — not just about sexual violence, but about the quieter, more insidious emotional abuse that never leaves bruises but still leaves scars.

And I hope those in power begin to realize: a good résumé does not equal a good man.

My Healing, My Terms

It will take me months to process what happened. To piece together the lies, to reclaim my dignity, and to understand that none of this was my fault. Joel is responsible for his behavior — his lies, his emotional manipulation, his abandonment. And if he continues to be placed in leadership without scrutiny, I worry for the people around him.

But I am no longer afraid of telling the truth.

This is mine to speak. And I speak it not to destroy him, but to protect others. To release myself. And to remind people everywhere: when someone is a different person behind closed doors, that is the version that matters most.

Don’t be fooled by the podium. Watch how they treat the people who have no power over them. That’s the real character test.

And Joel failed it.