I remember someone once telling me that divorce doesn’t just separate two people — it rearranges everything that used to feel certain. And it’s true. Once trust cracks, people start looking for answers wherever they can find them. These days, one of the first places they turn is the internet. Not for comfort. For clues.
People search tools, the kind that let you look up public records, old addresses, even possible relationships, are becoming quiet players in family court. Some lawyers use them strategically, others roll their eyes at them. But the truth is, almost everyone going through a tough split has typed a name into one of those search bars at some point. Curiosity and fear make powerful motivation.
I’ve seen it happen up close — a friend trying to understand why her ex suddenly had extra money, another wondering who their co-parent’s “new friend” really was. They weren’t trying to spy. They were trying to regain a sense of reality. That’s what these tools offer: a way to confirm the gut feelings you can’t quite explain. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it just hurts more.
From a legal perspective, it’s complicated. People search sites like BeenVerified or TruthFinder pull data from public records — property ownership, marriage licenses, criminal filings, and more. It’s all technically public, but what you find online is rarely the full story. According to the Federal Trade Commission, these sites aren’t regulated under the Fair Credit Reporting Act, which means they can’t guarantee accuracy or legal admissibility. They’re information sources, not evidence. Judges don’t want screenshots; they want certified documents. But as a starting point, those search results can point you toward the real records that matter.
Divorce lawyers I’ve spoken with admit they use these tools quietly. Not to prove something, but to guide what to look for. Maybe a hidden address shows up. Maybe an unknown LLC name tied to a spouse’s profile. Suddenly, a hunch becomes a lead worth investigating through formal discovery. One attorney called it “digital intuition.” It doesn’t win cases, but it helps ask the right questions.
On the other side of that, there’s a darker truth. Some people weaponize these tools. I’ve heard stories of exes digging for any scrap of dirt, pulling half-true data and using it to provoke conflict. There’s even a term for it now — “data harassment.” The New York Times covered how public data brokers feed personal info into the hands of anyone willing to pay. It’s legal, but it feels invasive. In the context of a custody dispute, that can turn toxic fast.
Privacy laws are starting to catch up, but they lag behind human behavior. California, for example, passed the California Consumer Privacy Act, which gives people more control over how their data is shared. But for most of the country, if something is publicly recorded, it can be found and aggregated online. Even if you delete your social media, property records, voter registrations, or court filings can still reveal enough to piece together a lot of your life.
In custody cases, these tools sometimes become quiet witnesses. Parents use them to confirm where an ex lives, who lives with them, or if a background check raises safety concerns. I read a case summary in ABA Journal where social media and public data became central to proving living arrangements. The court didn’t admit the raw screenshots as evidence — but once verified through official records, that information carried weight. It’s a reminder that truth found online still needs to be proven offline.
Here’s something most people don’t realize: family courts don’t usually care *how* you found the lead. What matters is that you followed up the right way. If you uncover that your ex secretly owns a rental property, that’s not the “smoking gun.” But if your lawyer subpoenas the county assessor and confirms ownership, that’s admissible. The people search report becomes the breadcrumb trail that led you there.
There’s a personal side to this, too — and it’s the part few people talk about. Using these tools can feed obsession. I’ve seen people spiral, refreshing profiles and reports late at night, chasing updates like they’re checking stock prices. The emotional toll of that kind of digital digging can be brutal. At some point, the search for facts becomes a search for closure, and no website can deliver that.
I get it, though. When your world’s been turned upside down, knowing feels safer than guessing. Even if what you find is uncomfortable, it gives you something solid to hold. There’s a strange kind of comfort in data, even if it stings. But eventually, there’s a line — the moment when “understanding” becomes “surveillance.” The healthy use of these tools ends where your peace of mind starts to break.
What I tell people now is simple: if you’re going through a divorce or custody battle, treat these tools like flashlights, not weapons. They can help you see the path ahead, but they’re not meant to blind the other person. Use them to gather clarity, not control. And always verify what you find with the official record — because in court, that’s the only truth that matters.
If you want to dig deeper into how digital evidence is handled in family law, the American Bar Association has detailed resources on online discovery and admissibility. For privacy rights and data removal, the Privacy Rights Clearinghouse also publishes guides that help people limit their digital footprint. It’s worth knowing your options — especially when emotions are high and information feels like power.
Because in the end, that’s what this really comes down to. Power. The power to know, the power to prove, and the power to let go when you’ve found enough. Technology can reveal a lot, but it can’t fix the human part. That still takes honesty, empathy, and a little grace — things you can’t pull from a search result.
