57. Aurélie
I didn’t ask anyone. I didn’t run it by Luminis’s PR team. I didn’t wait for Ferrari to give me the green light—even though I had a feeling they’d support it.
I just acted.
I pulled up the list of journalists my team had ignored that Ivy had sent over.
The podcast hosts, the freelance writers, the women-led outlets they claimed weren’t “high-profile enough.” I emailedevery single one.
Then I DM’d the ones who’d followed me after Monaco.
Sent a voice memo to Val from Two Girls One Grid thanking her for the support and asking if she wanted the real story .
Reached out to La Piste Rose and The Motorsport Code with a simple:
I’m ready to talk. Not anonymously. And I’m not asking permission.
Then I opened Instagram.
Story 1:
A screenshot of FIA Regulation 39.3.1. Highlighted in red.
“Penalties are at the discretion of the Stewards and may consider context, urgency, and necessity.”
I added:
Interesting how context only matters when it benefits them.
Story 2:
A photo of me scaling the barrier to get to Callum.
Captioned:
They only love you until you stop being easy to contain.
Story 3:
An old video from my karting days—me in my oversized helmet, overtaking a boy who was twice my size.
Caption:
I’ve been outracing boys since I was 9. This isn’t new. It’s just televised now.
Then I hit Twitter—X, whatever. Because subtle wasn’t the plan anymore.
@aurélie.dubois47: They ignored the tapes. They delayed the investigation. They wanted to penalize me for saving a life. But I’ve read the rules. And I’ve lived the danger. So now? I write the story. #RECLAIMINGMYVOICE #DRIVELIKEADUBOIS #AURELIEAGAINSTTHEGRID #FIXTHEFIA
And it started working.
Within two hours, I had four women from inside the paddock messaging me. Two current drivers from other motorsports. One former F1 team comms director. One ex-FIA compliance rep.
Some shared quotes. Some asked for anonymity.
“They told me to smile more and speak less. So I left the sport.” – Former Team Comms
“You’re saying what we were all too scared to.” – Anonymous W Series Driver
“They tried to use you. Now they’re going to watch you rise.” – Ferrari Development Coach
I compiled everything. Organized it by theme. Safety, misogyny, image manipulation, favoritism, grooming. Added references. Quotes. Screenshots.
Not enough to be sued. Just enough toscare the shit out of them and take some of their power away.
Because this wasn’t a tantrum. It was athesis.
They didn’t just light this match. They handed me the gasoline.
And now I was going to teach them the difference between a marketing stunt…
…and a fucking wildfire.
The airport lounge was cold and sterile, all glass walls and forced politeness. A little too clean. A little too curated.
Just like everything else in this sport. Funny that at the beginning of the season, I was blinded by the glitz and glamour and caught up in proving myself.
How things had changed.
I’d landed somewhere in Zurich for my layover—neutral ground, politically speaking. But emotionally? I was preparing for war.
I had two hours before my connection to Monaco, and I wasn’t wasting a second.
I pulled my hoodie tighter, sunglasses shielding my face even indoors, and sank into a private corner booth in the far corner of the lounge.
My phone, tablet, and AirPods spread out across the table like weapons on a battlefield.
What I really wanted to do was sleep. I hadn’t gotten to yet after the emotions of the crash, winning the race, and the short victory celebration at the hotel bar. I’d gone straight to the airport and set a plan in motion.
This was too important to sleep through.
I checked the time—12:37 p.m. in Zurich. Perfect. That made it morning in Paris, early enough in New York, and prime hustle time in London.
My fingers flew. There was a lot to do while I had the cell service.
First: the voice memo. I’d written bullet points on the plane, but now I spoke with intention. Clarity. Fire.
“Hi, it’s Aurélie. Not Dubois the driver, not the PR version of me you’ve seen in puff pieces. Me. I want to talk. On-record. On my terms. And not about my ‘golden girl’ story or my looks or my ‘surprising performance.’
I want to talk about the time I brought forward evidence of a premeditated attack and was ignored.
About the way teams use women as branding—until we have a voice.
About how the only people penalized are the ones who won’t shut up.
About the grooming that happens from men in positions of power.
If you want that version of the story… I’m ready.
If not? Stay safe behind your sponsor’s skirt. But don’t say I didn’t give you the opportunity.”
I crossed each name off the list as I sent it.
Val from Two Girls One Grid
Cleo at La Piste Rose
Amira from The Racing Underground Podcast
Elle Thompson atThe Guardian’smotorsport column
Ava Richards, an ex-W Series driver now running an advocacy platform calledPole Positioned
Then came thefollow-ups. Typed, voice-dictated, dropped into email and WhatsApp threads like clockwork. I was a one-woman press team. My fingers barely paused even as I yawned.
Every ping of response gave me more fuel:
Amira Von Jean
YES. Let’s talk. Want to record today?
Ava Richards
I’ve wanted to cover this forever.
Cleo Grimes
Aurélie. We’re with you. Whatever you need.
Val Nicolini
Holy shit. I’m in.
Thirty minutes. That’s how long it took to lock inthreeinterviews.
AParis in-studio segmentwith Pole Positioned . A Zoom interview for The Guardian ’s feature column on women in motorsport. And a Tuesday-night fireside-style podcast appearance with Two Girls One Grid , hosted by women who knew how to ask real questions.
All of it would be complete before I had to report to Luminis HQ. All of it would toe the line with no outright accusations.
Just questions . Well-placed, media-boosted questions. Wrapped in pretty packaging and powered by Article 3.6.2—the FIA’s own clause about personal statements.
As I paced the lounge, dodging lingering fans with strategic turns and fake phone calls, I started drafting captions, notes, openers. Not just for my interviews—but formy own story.
Instagram. X. A press kit if I needed it.
@aurélie.dubois47: You wanted a role model? Then you should’ve picked someone easier to control. #RECLAIMINGMYVOICE #DRIVERSNOTDOLLS #F1FORALL
I passed a kid wearing an Orion GP cap and forced a smile as he pointed at me. I kept walking. No photos today.
Because what none of them knew—not the fans, not the teams, not even Callum—was that I wasn’t just coming for the narrative.
I was coming for the infrastructure .
And I was doing it with receipts, lipstick, and a microphone.
This layover wasn’t a pause. It was the launch.