I believed the truth would protect me, that if the courts knew about the years of abuse, they would understand. However, at trial I was barred from discussing the years of trauma, fear and violence. Antiquated laws meant my truth was silenced.
I was sentenced to life without parole.
This was not justice, but I am not alone. A Stanford University survey of women incarcerated in California for murder or manslaughter found nearly 75% had experienced intimate partner violence the year before their offense.
California law allows courts to ignore that context — even when a person’s actions were the direct result of agony, coercion or desperation. Survivors often are punished without being able to tell their full story.
Assembly Bill 938, which died in the legislative “suspense file” last week, would have given survivors a chance to present evidence of abuse and trauma. This testimony isn’t just a defense; it’s a crucial part of the truth. It ensures that what came before a moment of crisis is not erased.
We’ve seen some progress in recent years. More survivors of human trafficking are getting a chance to clear their criminal records, which often resulted from their exploitation. That has made a difference: It has brought families together and reopened doors to jobs, housing and healing.
But many other survivors of trafficking, domestic violence, and child abuse are still denied relief because current law is too narrow. Their suffering is pushed aside. Their records follow them for life.
Unfortunately, they’ll have to keep waiting.
Abusers and traffickers often force their victims to commit crimes. They use illegal acts as tools of control and threats of exposure as a leash. This results in survivors facing lengthy prison sentences while the abuse they endured is left out of the courtroom entirely.
AB 938 would’ve allowed judges to hear about the years of psychological manipulation and impossible choices survivors have to make. It didn’t create loopholes; it created fairness. It didn’t excuse harm; it acknowledged harm that was already done.
When survivors are believed and supported, they can do more than just survive. They heal. They raise families. They rebuild their communities. But that only happens when the justice system sees them as whole people with whole stories.
Though I was sentenced to die in prison, I was granted commutation in 2017. I came home to a world that had moved on without me. I’d missed my daughters’ weddings and my grandchildren’s births — moments I’ll never get back.
Yet I carried on and reconnected with my family. I’m building a life with the time I have left. I don’t need pity. I needed a court that listened.
This commentary was updated to reflect the bill’s progress. It was shelved in the “suspense file” on Friday.
