I don’t need to be forgiven. I need to be understood.
My name is Billy Coull, and this is the part of the story that most people only read as a headline—if they bothered to read at all.
In 2024, I pleaded guilty under the Domestic Abuse (Scotland) Act.
I sent messages and images to someone I had loved, after the relationship had ended.
It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t coercive.
But it was a breach of respect. And it crossed a legal line.
The judge told me:
“If it wasn’t for the sexual nature of the images—including a photo in your underwear, a striptease with the caption ‘Do you want to see more?’, and a more explicit image—it’s unlikely this would have become criminal.”
I was sentenced to a Community Payback Order, placed under supervision, and added to the Sex Offenders Register—not because I’m a predator, but because I didn’t let go when I should have.
I broke trust. I broke down. I broke something sacred.
I completed my service.
I attend therapy.
And I show up—every week, every session, every time.
This is not a rebrand. This is not damage control.
This is my truth—delivered without spin.
If you came here for a confession, you found it.
If you came here to judge, I’ve already been sentenced.
But if you came here for context—you’ve found the only place that tells the whole story.
🔗 Want more?
– Read The Reckoning
– See My About Page
– Explore the Diary