“I Was on the Dark Side.” — Karoline Leavitt Finally Reveals the Unexpected Truth Behind the Career She Quietly Walked Away From

Before the White House podium.

Before the national campaigns.

Before her name became a lightning rod in American media…

Karoline Leavitt had another life.

One that few knew about. One she doesn’t talk about often. And one she deliberately chose to leave behind—with a quiet sentence that still surprises those who knew her then:

“I’m glad I didn’t continue down that path. That was the dark side.”

It wasn’t politics.
It wasn’t partisan.
It wasn’t even Washington, D.C.

It was journalism.
And for a while, she thought that’s where her future was.

A Small-Town Beginning, A Big-City Dream

Born and raised in Atkinson, New Hampshire, Karoline Leavitt was never handed the fast track to power. She grew up in a tight-knit community where work ethic was currency, and ambition came laced with grit.

She attended Saint Anselm College, a small liberal arts school with colonial brick buildings and cold New England winters. There, she studied politics and communication—a double major that hinted at her eventual path, but didn’t define it yet.

She was also an athlete.
A driven one.
Softball, team leadership, community involvement.

“I thought I might go into coaching,” she once said in a campus interview. “Maybe sports broadcasting. But what I really loved… was the idea of telling the truth.”

At the time, she believed that meant becoming a reporter.

A Foot in the Newsroom—and a Shift She Didn’t Expect

Leavitt’s first job after college was at WMUR, a local New Hampshire TV station known for solid, regional reporting. She was young, energetic, eager to learn. She wrote scripts. Edited voiceovers. Sat in the back of the control room during live broadcasts.

But behind the camera, she began to notice something.

“It wasn’t just about covering facts,” she later told a Republican group in New Hampshire. “It was about framing them. About what got covered—and what didn’t.”

She never named names. She never accused any individual.
But what she witnessed left her uneasy.

“I didn’t feel like I was informing people. I felt like I was part of a performance.”

And that’s when the shift began.

A Letter. A Chance. A White House Internship.

Still unsure of her direction, Leavitt applied for something she never expected to land: a White House internship under President Donald Trump.

“I submitted the application on a whim,” she later admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get in.”

But she did.

And in the summer of that year, she found herself in the correspondence office, helping draft letters on behalf of the president, responding to the thousands of Americans who write in each week.

It wasn’t glamorous. There were no cameras. No press conferences.
But for Leavitt, it was transformative.

“That was the moment I realized what public service could actually feel like.”

She wasn’t broadcasting news anymore.
She was participating in it.

Leaving the Newsroom for Good

When the internship ended, Leavitt faced a choice: return to the media track or commit to politics.

She chose politics.

“It wasn’t a vendetta,” she’s clarified. “It was a wake-up call. I realized I didn’t want to describe the world. I wanted to shape it.”

She began working for Rep. Elise Stefanik, quickly rising to the role of communications director—one of the youngest on Capitol Hill to hold such a title.

By the time President Trump left office, Leavitt was already seen as a rising star on the right—a Gen Z voice unafraid to challenge conventional narratives.

And she hadn’t looked back.

The “Dark Side” Comment—and What She Really Meant

In 2022, while speaking to a county GOP group during her run for Congress, Karoline Leavitt referenced her past work in media.

“I’m glad I didn’t continue down that path—working on the dark side.”

The phrase sparked immediate reaction.
Some took it literally.
Some called it dramatic.

But to Leavitt, it wasn’t about attacking journalism—it was about rejecting the version of journalism she had seen up close.

“I believe in truth,” she clarified later. “But I believe it should come from transparency, not agenda.”

Her comment wasn’t a cheap jab—it was a statement of disillusionment from someone who once believed the newsroom was sacred.

The Congressional Run—and a Lesson in Loss

After leaving Stefanik’s office, Leavitt ran for Congress in New Hampshire’s 1st district. She shocked political insiders by winning a 10-way Republican primary, defeating older, better-funded rivals.

In the general election, she faced incumbent Democrat Chris Pappas and lost—but only narrowly. She was 25. Articulate. Relentless. Already a national presence.

Some might have stepped back.
She stepped forward.

Back in the Arena—This Time at the Podium

Following her congressional bid, Leavitt returned to national politics—not as a candidate, but as a spokesperson for Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign.

She defended policies. Battled critics. Spoke on live television with the ease of someone twice her age. By the time Trump tapped her as White House Press Secretary, she had already built the one thing money and endorsements can’t buy:

Recognition. And resilience.

Her journey—from aspiring reporter to senior government communicator—might seem contradictory.
But to Leavitt, it’s consistent.

“The mission was always the same,” she said in an interview. “Serve the public. Tell the truth. Just not from a teleprompter.”

What Her Story Says About a Generation

Karoline Leavitt is now the youngest White House press secretary in history—and the sixth working mother in a row to hold the post. She’s part of a generation that grew up online, came of age during political polarization, and entered government during an era when every word becomes a headline.

But she’s also something else:
A case study in ideological evolution.

Not because she abandoned journalism.
But because she saw what it had become—and chose to fight for a different way of telling the truth.

And maybe, in a media world where everyone’s trying to go viral, her quiet rejection of the “dark side” might be the most revealing statement of all.