My name is Diane Hamill Metzger, I am almost 59 years old and I am in my 33rd year of serving a Pennsylvania life sentence for being an "accomplice" to a killing that my husband committed.  When I was arrested I was only 25 years old.

If someone would ask me what my daily life is like, I might respond with an array of unpromising adjectives like sad, frustrating, maddening, unfulfilling, desperate, abject…  This is an existence that I would never describe as "life."  The loss of personal autonomy is one of the worst parts of this existence to me, second only to the continual heartbreak of missing loved ones.

The similarities between men and women doing time are numerous, but there are also some differences.  Men in prison are usually stereotyped as thugs, whereas women are more often treated like children.  I am overseen by a majority of prison employees young enough to be my children.  Often they talk down to us like we're grade-schoolers.  As women we don't represent a risk of physical harm to them.  Most don't treat men that way because they're afraid of being attacked.  Receiving a grudging respect out of fear isn't ideal, but at least its respect.

In my own personal case, I receive a certain amount of respect because of my age, my intelligence, what I've accomplished under adverse conditions, and the amount of time I've done, but there is also a lot of resentment.  As inmates, we are not supposed to out-accomplish our keepers, and doing so often brings harassment.  When our quality of character or superior skills are recognized and rewarded, we are often then labeled as being given unfair "privilege."  Can't win!

Those of us who are mothers endure a huge hardship being away from our children.  I won't say that mothers love their children more than their fathers do but we love differently.  Every mother reading this knows what I'm talking about.  We carry our children for nine months inside of us, we are usually the chief hands-on caregivers and when our children are removed from our presence we grieve acutely.  Missing and worrying about our children is a constant presence in female prisoners' lives.

Why, then, do I try to go about each day endeavoring to project a positive attitude and helping others as much as I can?  When I was given this life sentence, the devastation was crippling.  Bitterness and anger surrounded my days.  Then I realized that I was only hurting myself.  I determined to make the best of my years inside and not waste them, even though I'm not where I want and need to be.  As a result, I've accomplished extraordinary things.  I've learned to love myself and to make the people I love proud of me.  I still long to be with my family, to sit by the ocean, to pet a dog, to sleep in a real bed, to eat healthy, appetizing food.  There are so many things I miss, so many regrets about which I can do nothing.  I've been asked what I would do if I could leave prison for one day.  To that, I must say that I wouldn't want to leave prison for one day, because having to come back would be too unbearable.  Give me many days, give me everyday.  That's what I live for, what I go on for.

If you want to contact me, I'd love to hear from you.  Write me at: Diane Metzger, #331506, WCI 660 Baylor Blvd., New Castle, DE 19720.