Case No. 27: The People vs. Personal Essay — Charged with Emotional Manipulation

Tagline: “Truth is allowed its metaphors, as long as it confesses by the end.”

Courtroom Setting

The courtroom smells faintly of old notebooks and unprocessed feelings.
At the bench sits Lady Objectivity, unimpressed by drama but curious about its staying power.
On the left, Mr. Reader — eyes slightly red, clutching tissues like evidence.
And in the center, the defendant: The Personal Essay, barefoot, vulnerable, wearing thick glasses and emotional transparency like armor.

The charge?
Emotional Manipulation.
The crime?
Making readers cry too easily and then making them wonder if they’ve been played.

Exhibit A: The Prosecution

Mr. Reader rises, voice trembling.

“Your Honor, there were no trigger warnings. None.
The essay felt too real.
It made me remember things I didn’t want to,
opened doors to memories I had locked away.
I came for words, not wounds.”

The jury shifts uneasily. Every one of them has a favorite essay they still can’t reread.

Exhibit B: The Defense

The Personal Essay stands, clutching its notebook like a heart.

“I connected because I resonated.
Why should everything be sunshine and unicorns?
Sometimes reality is darker  but acceptance matters.
I didn’t manipulate anyone. I just told the truth.
And sometimes truth hurts more than fiction ever could.”

Its voice shakes, but the sincerity in it softens the room.
Even Lady Objectivity blinks slowly, almost emotionally.

Exhibit C: The Witnesses

Memory takes the stand first.

Fidgety. Forgetful. Honest in fragments.

“I remember the pain, Your Honor, but words changed it.
They made it louder. Sharper.
Maybe it wasn’t manipulation, maybe it was magnification.
Writing didn’t lie. It just made the scar look new again.”

The court murmurs in quiet recognition.

Then comes Truth, the most overworked witness of them all.
Exhausted but unwavering.

“I get tired, yes.
But it’s necessary to tell things as they are not as people wish they were.
Reality isn’t always kind, but it’s collective.
When readers see themselves in what hurts, they stop feeling alone.
That’s not manipulation. That’s connection.”

Lady Objectivity puts down her pen for the first time.
Even she can’t refute that.

The Final Verdict

The courtroom waits.

Lady Objectivity clears her throat.

“This court finds that Truth and Art can  and must  coexist.
Fiction may offer escape, but truth offers perspective.
Both are necessary, one to rest the heart,
the other to remind it to keep beating.

The Personal Essay is hereby found guilty… but poetically so.
Because reality, however raw, is not just a mirror to society,
it is a mirror to self.
And truth, Your Honor, cannot be escaped.”

The gavel lands softly, once, twice.
Somewhere in the gallery, a writer wipes their tears and whispers, “I’m going to write about this.”

This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2025 

“This post is a part of ‘Real and Rhythm Blog Hop’ hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #EveryConversationMatters blog hop series “