On November 1, 2007, a man named Rudy Guede broke into a random home in Perugia, Italy, then raped and killed Meredith Kercher—a 21-year-old exchange student from the University of Leeds.
You might not even remember the names Rudy Guede and Meredith Kercher. But one name you will remember is Meredith’s roommate, Amanda Knox, a 20-year-old exchange student from Seattle.
In the weeks and years after Kercher’s murder, the media and the prosecution concocted a narrative that Amanda, her boyfriend Raffaele Sollecito, and Guede had played a violent sex game leading to Kercher’s murder.
Amanda was portrayed as a deviant sex fiend, a slut, a killer, and a psychopath. The problem is that none of it was true. Amanda had been dating Sollecito only a week. She had never met Guede. And most importantly, she was not playing a sex game that led to Kercher’s death.
Amanda would end up spending a total of eight years on trial and four years in prison for a murder she did not commit.
And Kercher’s real murderer—Guede—would never be charged with killing Kercher alone. He’d spend only 13 years behind bars for this crime. And after his release in 2021, he would be accused of committing a similar crime.
Here’s the part of the story most people don’t know: On the morning of November 5, 2007, Amanda Knox was taken into custody in Italy. She wasn’t given a lawyer or a translator. She wasn’t told that she was a suspect. She was questioned for 53 hours. She was struck by a police officer, gaslit, and pressured into signing a confession.
Now, 18 years since she was taken into custody, she has released a memoir called Free: My Search for Meaning to tell the full story of what happened in Perugia, how she fought for vindication, how the tabloids and credible news organizations villainized her, and what her life has been like since she was exonerated in 2015.
Today on Honestly, I ask Amanda Knox how she survived in prison, how she reintegrated into society, why she returned to Italy to confront the judge who put her behind bars, why she chooses forgiveness, and what it means to be truly free.
Click below to listen to our conversation, or scroll down for an edited transcript.
Amanda Knox on surviving her sentencing and time in prison:
Amanda Knox: You’ve taken away my freedom. You’ve taken away my opportunities in life. But you can’t take everything. You can’t. The only person who can take everything from me is me. So I latched on to what I could control, and what they couldn’t take from me—which was how I was going to spend the time that I was losing, and what I was going to get out of my life.
It’s an interesting shift in perspective because it’s not exactly a happy one—and I describe the feeling like there was a physical sensation that came along with this realization, which was cold. A chill of realization swept through me, with the hair standing up on the back of my neck. This is on me; I have to make this work in defiance of them because they’re trying to convince me that my life doesn’t matter. They’re throwing me away in a dungeon and throwing away the key completely—misrepresenting and rewriting my past, my present, and my future. A little bit of part of me was like, Fuck that. They can’t take my life from me. So I made an important shift in my brain: I stopped waiting to get back the life that I should have been living, and I started looking around me, with a more clear eye, at the life that I had available to me, and I tried to think: What can I possibly do within these set of limitations that is meaningful to me?
I like to think that I’m always a person who finds something—some opportunity, some nugget of a value—in struggle. But I don’t romanticize rock bottom. I don’t think that struggle necessarily leads to character development. I saw many people around me in the prison be utterly broken by the bad things that had happened to them. And I think my greatest fear was becoming like them. My fear was being broken by it. And so there was this sense of resistance in me, but I didn’t know how long I could endure. What I discovered about myself is that I can endure quite a bit. And that’s a great thing to know about yourself.
On that stigma of being “Foxy Knoxy”:
AK: There are very few people in my life, even to this day, for which I am simply Amanda. From the beginning of this, I became an idea in people’s minds; I became the face and the name of a lot of people’s fantasies. One of the things that I wrote about most recently, in a Substack that just came out, was that I became a sexual fantasy. Like, it wasn’t just a fantasy of violence, it was a sexual fantasy. It was a pornographic fantasy. It was like who I was diminished into, somebody’s very macabre jerk-off session. That’s what it ultimately came down to, and it was so gross. This sexual trauma that was also imposed upon me complicated my existence in the world. I was a person who was still young and wanting to fall in love and have a life. How do you do that once you get out of prison, when you’ve been vilified as a sexual demon for your entire adult life? What do you do?
How do you regain a sense of agency when, repeatedly over years, you’ve been told that nothing you say and nothing you do matters, because it is always going to be viewed in the worst possible light? Those were the things that I was grappling with in my mid-20s.
Editor’s note: This interview has been edited for clarity. The views and opinions expressed by guests of Honestly are solely those of the guests and do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions, policies, or positions of Honestly or The Free Press.
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