Monday 28 December 2020

True Shame vs. False Fame

Recently you all know that things have changed as I came out on PrisonWriters and my story was headlined.

I wrote my story with an anonymity and hoped to make an impact regarding predators in the US in reality (people with faces and personality) versus the stereotypes of strangers in masks and dark shadows. I used one of my many traumatic experiences to talk about my experience being victimised as an at-risk youth back in the 2000's.

What I was not expecting, but should have anticipated, was my actual offense to be correlated to the article and story I wrote. What I shared was intimate and a devastating event in my life.

I wound up pregnant at fourteen by a registered sex offender after a life of sexual abuse and expulsion from my school for being LGBTQ. I was homeless as a runaway and selling marijuana, then illegal, to make ends meet before I had a forced abortion and lost myself in a postpartum psychosis.

It has been hard, being famous for something I know was wrong, have held sincere remorse for, and always readily admitted but never defended. I have lived with the guilty verdict in my heart and always wished they had granted my request for the death penalty at sentencing. I always felt a life should be lost for a life and I do not deserve to be here.


Being a notorious murderer is not easy to handle psychologically. I feel ready to throw in the towel often as people come in and out of my life with seasons and scarce reasons though I survive on the donations that result. I feel violated once more, even now, and selfish for speaking on what happened to me when I am alive to bare the trauma and my mom doesn't have that option.

When you feel remorse, it is heavy and painful. It keeps you from sleeping, it affects your breathing, it gnaws at your bones and visions come back no matter how much time has passed. Now, add a media scandal and the constant conjecture around it that biases and slants take- that all can kill you. I have died three times in my time from stress- related events.


I love my writing. I want my work recognized. But maybe my idea to be me, to tell my story honestly, was just as hare-brained as my juvenile stunts.

I was judged in the courtroom. I was then judged by the press. Now I judge myself daily. There is no Judgement Day in my umbilical story- Judgement is every day.
Unfortunately additional pieces have already been released to PrisonWriters. Know to take it with a grain of salt. One day, this nightmare will end.

Until then, like the television sets did in 2008 and websites still do a dozen years later- stay tuned.

With Resignation, Free


PS. Update: The article has severed relations between me and my famous ally, reconciled James D'Aoust. I plan to continue my efforts to use this coverage to help at risk youth and increase awareness for the juvenile incercerated population. I mean, screw it, it's all done now so let's try to salvage some positive from the scraps of my heart, right? ='(

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