All day I received birthday wishes via email. I even had a video call with my family and a call with my best friend of over twenty five years. I had love coming from every angle. My 45th may not have been in the ideal place, but it was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Today, I waited to hear the outcome of my daughter's father/co-defendant’s sentencing. It was important to me because this is something that directly impacts my young child. My mind raced as I thought about how I would one day have to explain to her why she no longer received texts or visits from her father; a conversation no mother wants to have with her daughter. My hopes were that I would be returning home before his departure to at least close the gap of time enough to minimize the impact on her. This, however, is not the case. Sadly, my youngest angel will navigate the world for a short period of time with two incarcerated parents.

I was taken back to my Jazzercise days. I thought about why I loved it, and it was because of the instructor I had. She was so into the workout and just had fun. That is what I decided to do. I let all of the judgements and insecurity go and I just went in the moment. It was almost like time stood still. I never even looked up at the clock, I just danced, smiled and taught the participants.

In true military fashion, Captain hit the floor early this morning. And when she stepped out of her door the lights came on so that she could see her poster. When I tell you her tears flowed for what seemed like twenty minutes. She was so happy. She said, “This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. You all are stuck with me for life.”

One thing I have noticed is that the ladies who have left [this place] all seem to go through a stage of anxiousness; mainly because they have no idea what they want to do or what they are going to do once they get out. As a matter of fact, I have been asking a lot of people here what they feel is missing, and many say re-entry prep. They feel like we take classes just to check a box, but overall they are not being given the tools and skills to help them re-enter society successfully.

When I first arrived, my body was in so much pain. My knee hurt, my wrist was swollen, and I was overweight. I came up with a term to describe the weight I put on, “case weight.” So many women spoke about how much weight they had gained once they caught their cases. That was me too. Once I found out that I was under investigation and could possibility go to prison, mentally, emotionally, and physically I fell apart. Honestly speaking, I did not want to live. I wore my anxiety and pain on my body.

There had to be at least twenty of us standing outside waiting for the girls. When they opened the car door and stepped out, we were going crazy. Jumping, waving, clapping, and of course...crying. Not just me, ALL OF US. There was not a dry eye out there

After three months, I finally get to see my girls. OMG! I am over the moon right now. There is so much I want to say and to talk about. I can't wait to hear about everything that has been going on in their lives.

This Monday, I noticed myself getting a little irritated and moody. I decided to leave my room and find a space where I could work on my business plans. I also got in a workout and journaled. I kept wondering why my mood had shifted and I really could not put my finger on it. At first I thought I was jealous, so I explored that emotion. But, that wasn't quite it. After having a conversation with my friend, I realized that I may be more of an empath than I may have realized.

We had a situation/conversation/disagreement, etc. about the use of the N word and who is allowed to use it; not me per se, but the individuals on my hall. More specifically, some of the Black girls on my hall found the use of the word offensive coming from one of the Puerto Rican girls. This sparked a small debate. I, in true PhD form, needed some facts.

When he initiated the recount, I knew it was his way of getting revenge for the giggling and smiling. As he walked down the hall, he stopped in front of one person and asked what her smile was for. She responded, "so we aren't allowed to smile?" This obviously pissed him off even more. Just when we thought the coast was clear, just when I returned to my room to finish reading my paper, he yelled, "Clear the hall. We are having a shake down." SMH. As I packed up my room and walked past the officers, he then said, "I love shake downs, I want to smile too."

Once the signal was given, Queen then took her walk down the long path, through the barbed wire fence that she entered earlier this year. As the van drove off, we looked back and waved. Her smile was so big as she waved her graceful goodbye. The tears began to fill my eyes. I just couldn't contain myself. I guess the others felt the same because they began to cry as well. Wow. Just like that, Queen was free.

Outside of me missing home, I just really feel alone. I miss my family and friends so much. I mainly miss the ocean deep conversations that I had with someone almost daily. The conversations where I could just talk, with no judgement, no holding back, and I could just be myself. Here, I feel alone. I watch my words and interactions with people.

I am not just this super professional, uptight nerd that everyone thinks I am. Even here people say things like…"you seem like you have it all together," "you are so sophisticated," "you are smart," and "I feel like I need to be quiet and Zen when I am around you." I don't always know how to take that because that is just one aspect of me. I think I have worn that mask so long that I really don’t know how to take it off.

My new bunkie is not good for my health. She has been down for a while and she knows all of the prison cuisine recipes. Nightly, instead of going to the chow to eat, I am greeted with a hearty and fattening meal in my room. The heater came on a couple of days ago, so the prison kitchens are wide open.

I saw the smiles, heard the laughter, witnessed the tears, and listened closely to the words that poured from the hearts of women who traveled with them through one of life's most challenging times. At one point I was reminded that this moment is temporary. That each one of us would one day say our goodbyes. I imagined us one by one vanishing away. I was reminded that we are souls embodied in flesh and one day our spirits would continue on our travels. 

This past week has been filled with a lot of emotions from anxiety, anger, relief, joy, disappointment, and clarity. For me, I am just grateful. I am grateful that if there was ever a better time to go to federal prison, it is now and that I am able to receive the benefits of the FSA; this means I will not have to serve my full term incarcerated.

Last night I received word that my dog of 14 years had to be put down. My mom told me that he was sick a few days ago. She thought he had a cold. Apparently, it was much more serious. He was suffering from heart failure. Needless to say, reading that email was devastating. Not only because he was gone, but mainly because I was not at home to comfort my family, especially my girls. I felt, and still feel, helpless. 

Even on the inside, everything is a hustle. You need your room cleaned? You can get it. You need your laundry done? Check. Braids? Check. Pedicure? Check. Massage? Check. Everything on the inside, just like the outside, has a price tag on it.

The smile on her face, the brightness in her eyes, how the wind was in her hair, but more than anything the tears that streamed down her face. As she hugged me she just kept saying, "thank you." I was so emotional. But when she said, "I have to call my mom and tell her I did it. I finally did something right," was the moment my tears began to flow.