The Ruse.

Manipulation, Control, and Shining a Light on Abuse.

In the early stage of my spiritual path, there was a night when I could feel life as I knew it breaking apart at the seams.

I had been in physical, mental, and emotional pain for so long, and I was finally getting to the bottom of it. Doing so meant facing everything about my life that was causing the pain, and that in and of itself, was painful, too.

On that particular night, as if on instinct, I began softly singing the song “You Are My Sunshine” to myself. It was a song that my grandfather, ‘Poppie,’ would sing to me as a little girl, and in that moment, it felt like he was reassuring me that if I could just hang in there, that I’d eventually find a way to let my light shine bright.

When I began closely examining my childhood, I was able to see that Poppie himself was a ray of light in the darkness that surrounded me. Unfortunately, he passed away before I was even 10 years old, and his death left me devastated.

He wasn’t a perfect man by any means– after all, two of his sons had sexually abused me: my father, Jack Fiorvante, and one of his brothers, Larry Fiorvante (now deceased), which meant he played a role in their wounding by failing to protect them from whatever abuse they had experienced. Abuse is always learned in some way, shape, or form.

(Poppie’s wife, my grandmother, Josephine Fiorvante, also sexually abused me, so there’s that to contemplate. Did she do the same to her own children? Was Poppie a victim of her narcissistic abuse, as well?)

Though, regardless of his own failings, he had meant a lot to me, and my mother knew this.

So when my repressed memories of abuse came to the surface – the first being sexual abuse at the hands of my father and the awareness that my mother had known and ignored it – I immediately went no contact with both of my parents, and in my final communication to my mother, there was one thing I asked her for: a photo of me and Poppie.

I asked if she would find it in her heart to send it to me before my ex-husband, Joe Scoppino, and I moved homes to start a new life, and I gave a specific date to send it by. It was clear that I didn’t want them knowing my new address– I even changed my phone number and blocked them from all social media.

The photo never came, but what did come over the next year was cyber-stalking, harassment, and bullying from both of my parents (more on this in a future post).

Joe was aware of their harassment, and although I was being abused by him, too (and had been for 14 years behind closed doors), during moments of clarity due to his own stint with healing work, he would say things like this:

(Mother Wound and Life Path are names of healing programs we’d purchased from my spiritual teacher, Liana Shanti. When the abuse by my father surfaced the summer of 2021, I wrote a post in the Life Path Facebook group about what I was remembering and why the sexual scenes that would flash before my eyes whenever I stood close to him FINALLY made sense.)

Joe 100% believed me when he learned that my father had sexually abused me.

He himself knows that men are capable of keeping dark secrets, telling serious lies, and inflicting harm on women (he himself is one of them, but that’s another post for another day), and during that period of time, he physically held me through my waves of grief, crying along with me, dancing with me to sad songs that helped me release my emotions, and, for what felt like the first time in our entire relationship, truly seeing me as something worth being protected and respected.

Though, as it were, when Joe and I separated several months later, he was singing a whole new tune.

He didn't want to continue healing, so he chose to scapegoat me, tell lies and half-truths, and paint himself as a victim of a cult so he could go back to numbing his own childhood trauma and hiding from the fact that he himself had become an abuser in adulthood.

After Joe left, I found out that he gave his mother, Laura Scoppino, his consent to contact my parents and let them know that he was gone and that I was now living alone.

JOE SCOPPINO KNEW MY FATHER SEXUALLY ABUSED ME, and his mother KNEW that I had named my father as an abuser. Yet, with his consent, his mother proceeded to share private details about me (most of them lies Joe had told) to the very man who defiled me, to the woman who DID NOTHING to protect me and hurt me in her own right, and both of whom I had written letters to stating that I wanted NO CONTACT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM and to STOP coming near me or any part of my life or business.

After they’d been contacted, the harassment from my parents actually escalated and moved from privately contacting me to ambushing my Facebook business page and professional network.

They figured if Joe pulled the “cult card,” this meant it should be easy for them to publicly paint me as a brainwashed damsel in distress who’d been suckered by my teacher, Liana. All so they wouldn’t have to admit their guilt and take accountability for their actions.

That’s when I filed a police report, hired a lawyer, and followed her guidance to start with a cease and desist letter formally stating that I wanted NO CONTACT and that their ongoing stalking and harassment is a criminal offense that could be punishable by law.

Around the same time period that my cease & desist letter was sent, I received a letter from my mother.

How did she get my address? Did she get that from Laura Scoppino, too? That question remains unanswered, but I will say that before Joe had left, we’d spent hours taking steps to keep our address unlisted and separate from our business. Yet, once he was gone and it came to light that his mother had shared information with them, lo and behold, a letter from Ann Fiorvante showed up!

(Yet another violation of my request for NO CONTACT.)

On the bottom front left of the envelope, my mother wrote, “Picture of Poppie.”

It didn’t feel like there was a picture inside the envelope, though I decided to open it to see what she was up to.

I was right.

NO PICTURE.

Instead, a letter that read the following:

“Lisa,
As you requested we would like to send you the picture of poppie + you + other personal items we no longer need to hold onto. We do not want to chance losing them if this address was incorrect. If this doesn’t come back to us we will believe this address is correct.
Expect a box soon.
Your mother,
Ann”

Not only did my mother continue rubbing salt in my wound by referencing my pedophile father throughout her letter with “we,” but I feel she used my beloved grandfather as a ruse to ENSURE I’d open a letter that contained literally nothing.

After that, I never did receive the picture or a box.

Were they scared off from sending the items due to the timing of my cease and desist letter?

That’s possible.

I also feel it was a way to assert power and control over me– to let me know they could find out where I lived and to keep tabs on my whereabouts.

Monitoring where a victim lives and works is a source of power and control for abusers, and as they were already WELL AWARE, I wanted NO CONTACT.

And while not receiving the items was fine by me as I no longer wanted them, what was NOT fine by me was the fact that they’d contacted me at my new address.

So I made a mental note of my mother’s level of callousness – that she was continuing to side with my father and WILLINGLY allowing him to know my location – and I followed the guidance of my lawyer: since I’d technically requested the photo at one point, if harassing contact occurs again in the future, then further action may be needed.

From there, I carried on with healing, rebuilding my life, and beginning to share my story online, though all the while, in the back of my mind, were the following facts:

My parents now have my new address…

They’ve both stalked, harassed, and bullied me, despite requests for NO CONTACT…

They’re both lying to their friends and family about me to get people “on their side”…

My mother has contacted Liana to verbally abuse her…

My father has contacted Liana to threaten her…

My father’s ENRAGED that I have detailed memories of his horrific abuse and am SPEAKING UP…

I know he’s had a cocaine habit and gets manic…

I know he’s prone to fits of psychotic rage when angry…

I know he owns a gun…

I know they’re just three hours away…

I know my mother is a self-admitted alcoholic who chose her “man” over protecting me as a child… so why would she protect me now?

AND I KNOW MY FATHER IS CAPABLE OF PHYSICALLY HURTING ME.

Which is why, when one of these thoughts would pop into my head while walking alone, I’d find myself looking over my shoulder… just in case. (They don’t call it a “woman’s intuition” for nothing.)

Which is why, on January 5th, 2023, when I was alerted that my father had been engaging with and making belligerent claims about me and Liana on an online forum that’s been under FBI investigation for several months, I experienced a whole new level of uneasiness.

(This online form was created to defame Liana Shanti, who’s an advocate for abuse victims, and to silence the women who’ve been making disclosures about their abuse while healing their trauma through her teachings and programs. It’s comprised of disgruntled family members of Liana’s students who collectively have a history of: embezzlement, molesting and abusing children, including convicted PEDOPHILIA, arrested domestic violence, convicted drug use, arson, DEATH THREATS, and who are openly colluding with PROFESSIONAL KIDNAPPERS AND DEPROGRAMMERS.)

And which is why, on Sunday, January 8th, 2023, when an attempted break-in was made on my day off from my work, and I found myself rushing to call 911, I knew it was time to make a choice: ignore every red flag and stay OR heed the warning signs and flee.

I chose the latter.

With the reassuring words of a police officer who genuinely believed me and encouraged me to leave, and a group of women who’ve become my family, I was gifted a fresh start in a safe place. (More on this in the future when the timing is right.)

For now, I’ll end here with this:

Jack Fiorvante has been lying about me and my teacher Liana Shanti for nearly two years. His wife, Ann Fiorvante, KNOWS this and has been pretending to the outside world that his abusive behaviors are lies that I was “brainwashed” into believing when I started healing my mind, body, and spirit.

I’ll be sharing my memories and personal experiences regarding my parents, as well as my ex-husband, Joe Scoppino, my sister Kristin Delgado, and ANYONE else who’s abused me and who’s been smearing Liana Shanti and the community of women I care about.

And I’ll be continuing to gather information, take necessary legal steps, and share THE TRUTH OF MY LIFE. Whether justice will one day be served by the court system is yet to be determined.

In the meantime, I will make SURE that, should anything ever happen to me, I’ve left a public and detailed paper trail behind that will give law enforcement no choice but to investigate my parents and anyone else who’s attempted to harm me.

I will also be encouraging other victims of their abuse (and there’s always others) to feel confident coming forward, speaking up, and holding them accountable along with me.

How do you hold an abuser accountable?

You stop hiring them. You stop befriending them. And you STOP making excuses for them.

Without accountability, abusers who refuse to own up to their actions and right their wrongs CONTINUE TO ABUSE OTHERS.

And I’m doing my part to break the cycle.

My name is Malana Hokulani (formerly Lisa Fiorvante). My father, Jack Fiorvante, sexually abused me, and my mother Ann Fiorvante, a former DAYCARE PROVIDER of 20+ years, KNEW and did NOTHING to protect me.

I was groomed and abused at the hands of MANY people as a child and all throughout adulthood, and I now have the courage to speak up more loudly than ever.

Malana means ‘light.’ Hokulani means ‘divine heavenly star.’ LIGHT OF THE DIVINE HEAVENLY STAR. A name given to me on my spiritual path.

So as it turns out, when Poppie sang to me “You are my sunshine,” he wasn’t that far off. I did indeed find a way to let my light shine bright, and I’m shining it on every person I know who’s ever tried to put it out.

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(This case is ongoing, and I may update/share new details on my posts as things evolve.)