When a person is convicted, it is easy to forget they are more than a felon. They are someone’s son or daughter. They might even be someone’s father or mother. They are also someone’s friend. A person might be sitting alone at the defendant’s table, but there are more people involved in the aftermath of a verdict. 

The conviction process affects everyone in a person’s social circle. 

In October 2021, I pleaded guilty to a sex crime — one count of possession of child pornography. I was sentenced to eight years in prison, 40 years of probation and a requirement to register as a sex offender for the rest of my life. I accepted all of it as punishment for my wrongdoings. But the fallout extended well beyond my own life.

Prior to the investigation that led to my arrest, I had a wife and a young daughter. We were close to our families and saw them weekly. We had family dinners with my parents, two younger brothers and my sister-in-law. We had cookouts with my wife’s parents, younger brother and grandparents. We attended big get-togethers with my extended family, which included aunts, uncles, numerous cousins and an ever-growing number of second cousins. I got along well with my coworkers and had a handful of close friends whom I saw as often as I could.

When the charge against me was made public, people distanced themselves from me. 

One by one, my friends and coworkers cut me out of their lives. Most did so without a word. They avoided interacting with me or even making eye contact. 

“I can’t be associated with you now,” one friend said. “I hope you understand.”

My social circle dissolved into nothing. 

My wife and I attempted to keep our marriage together for several months, but the trust between us was gone. 

I was initially able to have one video call a week with our daughter; but following a messy divorce, my wife took our 2-year-old away from me, saying she wanted to protect our daughter. I was no longer welcome in their lives. I’ve attempted to seek a modification to the custody decree, but I will only be able to contest it in court after I’ve been released, which won’t be for another five years. In the meantime, my contact with her has become limited to letters.

I was certain my family would abandon me too. I was ashamed and scared to ask them for help. I isolated myself for several months before I finally broke down and sought them out. 

That day sits clearly in my mind. 

I sent a message to my younger brother, who immediately called me back. I sat on the couch in my empty home and told him about everything that occurred since we last spoke. He suggested joining him for lunch the next day with his daughter and our mom. Telling him made it easier for me to tell the rest of the family.

My parents were understanding and forgiving. I am lucky to still have them in my corner even now after I went to prison. I get letters from them as well as from my extended family. I am able to speak with them over the phone throughout the week. They fill me in on what is occurring back home. The support that means the most to me is when they visit. My mom comes every month or so and tries to bring others as well.

But they are paying a price for that. They, too, have been cut out of my daughter’s life. 

During my first Christmas in prison, my mom tried to reach out to my ex-wife about dropping off presents for my daughter. She was rebuffed.

Even though I am the guilty one, they are being punished too.