Sometimes the smallest object can carry the heaviest weight.
In Lucy Letby’s case, it wasn’t DNA or CCTV footage that many people remember most—it was a pale green Post-it note.
On it, scrawled in capital letters, were the words: “I AM EVIL. I DID THIS.”
For prosecutors, those few words were a devastating piece of evidence.
For the public, they became what many saw as a “confession” from Britain’s most notorious child killer. But was it really that simple?
A Psychologist’s Perspective
To most, the notes found in Letby’s home looked like proof of guilt.
But as a psychologist who has worked in criminal behaviour for over 20 years, I saw something different.
Handwritten messages like these, often messy and contradictory, can just as easily be signs of trauma as of guilt.
In fact, Letby had been advised by both her GP and hospital occupational health to write down her thoughts as a coping mechanism during a period of extreme stress.
That crucial context—that this was therapeutic writing—was never strongly explained to the jury.
The defence touched on it, but without the backing of expert forensic psychologists, the jury was left with the prosecution’s interpretation.
The Role of Therapy Writing
In therapy, a technique known as stream-of-consciousness writing is often encouraged.
People in turmoil are told to write without censoring themselves, letting whatever thoughts spill out onto paper.
The results can look shocking—ugly phrases, dark confessions, words repeated obsessively. But they’re not necessarily factual.
Young people, especially, will often write things like “I’m stupid” or “I want to die.”
That doesn’t mean it’s true or that they intend to act on it. It’s a way of externalising pain, confusion, and self-blame when they feel trapped.
Seen through that lens, Letby’s notes read less like cold-blooded admissions and more like the fragmented cries of someone whose life was spiralling apart.
The Darker Words on the Page
Letby’s notes weren’t just about guilt. Among the scribbles were phrases like “Kill me”, “I can’t do this anymore”, “panic”, “fear”, and “help”—some words underlined, circled, or written in different colours.
Psychologically, this looks much more like anguish than calculation. It reflects grief, despair, and shame.
Some of the writings even suggested she believed her future had been destroyed, with lines such as “No hope… no children… will never have a family.”
These don’t sound like the words of someone revelling in their crimes.
They sound like the diary entries of a person who felt her world collapsing, guilty or not.
A Clash of Narratives in Court
In the courtroom, every piece of evidence becomes a story.
The prosecution framed the notes as Letby’s private mask slipping—a confession hidden in her bedroom.
The defence suggested they were the writings of a woman buckling under false accusations.
Neither side really captured the full psychological complexity.
To those of us trained in trauma work, hiding such notes is common—not because they are literal confessions, but because people fear their words will be misinterpreted.
The Contradiction at the Heart of the Case
There’s also a deeper contradiction. The prosecution painted Letby as a narcissistic psychopath who killed babies for attention.
Yet her writings are filled with terror, grief, and desperation—feelings that don’t align with psychopathy.
If she is guilty, she would be a rare case indeed: a remorseful psychopath, which is virtually unheard of.
If she is innocent, the notes are tragic evidence of someone crushed under suspicion and public vilification.
The Bigger Question
Ultimately, only Lucy Letby knows whether she committed the murders for which she is serving multiple whole-life sentences.
The Criminal Cases Review Commission is now examining her convictions, and the role these notes played will no doubt be scrutinised again.
What is clear is that those scraps of paper came from a mind in pain—whether from guilt or from the devastation of being accused.
In another context, they might have been worked through safely in therapy.
Instead, they became a cornerstone of the case against her.
