I get it, you hate me. You can stop sending me emails, messages and stalking my Facebook page now.

You hate me, you’re loud and clear.

But have you asked yourself, “Why?”

Why have you gone through all the trouble to Google me, find me on Facebook and then craft uncreative messages of hate for me. Why have you chosen to take time out of your life, from your family, your job, whatever you do, to let me know you hate me?

I get that I have put myself in a very public forum, but why take the time to let it be known how much hate you carry for someone, you’ve never even met.

You know what’s interesting. The people currently in my life, know about my past. It’s important to me that no one thinks I am intentionally hiding anything from them. I’m sure many of them even Googled me, just as you have, but no one has ever told me, at least not to my face, that they now hate me.

Well, with one heartbreaking exception, but that’s a whole other post.

In my old neighborhood, I made a point to tell the mothers about my past, no child would be allowed in my house unless the mothers knew. It was important to me that the moms felt their children were safe. You know what happened when I told them, NOTHING. Life went on, kids came over to play, I hung out in the cul-de-sac with the moms, I held their children, nothing changed, because they know me, they know who I am now.

If you met me tomorrow, you would never know what happen 20 years ago or that I had spent half my life in prison. There are no tell-tale signs in my demeanor; I am a person, a wife, a neighbor, a friend. When I was married, 100 people came to my wedding and they all knew about my past, yet they still came to celebrate with me.

If you met me, you might, *gasp* like me.

Would you be willing to meet me?

Did it ever occur to you, that maybe not everything you read on the internet is the WHOLE story?

When I was arrested it was 1997, the internet was still in its infancy, I believe, at the time, Al Gore was still taking credit for it. I have Googled myself; I know what’s there, a lot of nothing. My appeal decision and some crazy interview, one of my crazy co-defendants did for some psycho magazine that no longer exists. Since Google seems to be the end all, be all, source of information for the majority of my haters, allow me to provide you with a little more information that seems to have missed the internet “facts” you were provided. After all, if you’re going to hate me, a person you have never met, with such voracity, you should be fully informed.

I’ll do it in a numerical list, that way, for those of you who like to pick me apart, paragraph by paragraph; it will be easier for you to craft your messages of hate and vitriol.

The Top 3 Facts about Me that Never Made on Google.

1. I was the one that turned everyone in. This was one of those things the police and prosecutors office worked very hard to hide. I was the one who told the police where the crime had been committed. I was the one who went in and made a statement. I was the one that gave up everyone’s name. And you know what happened after I did all of that? They let me go home. That is until the plea bargaining began.

2. All of my co-defendants were given lesser sentences, via plea agreements, in exchange for their testimony against me. Only one of them was sentenced BEFORE the end of my trial, the rest had to wait to be sentenced depending on the outcome of my trial.

Fun Facts about Plea Bargaining:

America is one of the few democratic countries that rely on “plea bargaining.” In fact, many countries don’t use it because they consider the process to be immoral and unethical. According to an April 2017 article in The Guardian, the United States houses one-fifth of the world’s prison population and 97% of U.S. criminal cases are resolved using pleas. Plea bargains are traditionally used as an extortion tactic, tell the nice prosecutor what he wants to hear and get years of your life back. Tell on your “friends,” get a reward. Many times, if not most of the time, when their freedom is on the line, those who try to wheel-and-deal their way out of accountability get really creative in their storytelling. But prosecutors don’t care about the truth, they care about convictions. They would rather convict now and apologize 30 years later. The public likes to see convictions, not real justice; they’re too impatient for true justice. The statistics are fuzzy, for obvious reasons, but the majority of false convictions are caused by someone else’s lie.

3. For those of you so keen to call me a murderer, there is no evidence to support your claim. Two of my co-defendants confessed to the murder, the rest is just the hearsay from people who were given lesser sentences for their testimony. The “Facts” you read about on Google are not supported by physical evidence, but by testimony given by confessed murders.

Now none of this is me trying to profess my innocence. I was there; I watched as someone was murdered and I did nothing to stop it. I hid what happened for a week, until I went to the police. I went to trial, twice, I was convicted, and I did my time.

The point I am trying to make, is how can you hate someone you really know nothing about? The internet only shows you whatever bits and pieces were uploaded at the time. The criminal justice system is FAR from consistent, fair or perfect. Have you checked Netflix lately, there is a new documentary regarding how messed up our American judicial system is on the queue, monthly. The point I am trying to show you is…you DON’T know. You weren’t there, you’re not me, yet you make judgments, accusations and point fingers like you have your own personal stash of evidence under your bed.

Criminal, ex-con, offender, inmate, murderer, I’ve been called them all. They’re labels, powerful words meant to pigeon-hole and dehumanize me; these words are lazy accusations from people who are only brave behind their keyboards.

You hate me, but you know nothing about me, beyond Google.

You hate me, but you’ve never met me.

You hate me and hate is cowardly, because if you were brave, you would try to understand, to learn.

I am trying to use my past to change the future.

I dare you, I dare you to talk to me, meet me, and learn from me.

It could be a better use of your time, than to just hate.