The Journey

This journey, this painfully heavy, life-altering experience of having my child behind bars, has changed me to my core.

Nothing in life could have prepared me for the day my child was taken away from me in handcuffs. From that moment forward, my world changed. It wasn’t just my child who was sentenced, a part of me was too. I became a mother living through a pain, very few truly understand. A pain that sits deep in your chest and never really goes away.

It’s a kind of grief that lingers every day, not because my child is gone forever, but because they are trapped behind cold, concrete walls and steel doors. Being treated like less than a human in a system that often values punishment over truth.

I’ve cried in silence, prayed in desperation, and smiled in front of others while my heart was shattered inside. I’ve wrestled with anger, bitterness, sadness, confusion, and guilt, all while trying to hold my family together and keep my head above water.

This experience has tested every fiber of who I am, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, and financially. There have been days I could barely eat or sleep. Nights where my thoughts raced with worry, replaying everything over and over in my mind. I’ve learned what true exhaustion feels like, not from lack of rest, but from carrying a burden so heavy that it aches deep inside your bones.

I’ve been judged by people who don’t know my story. I’ve felt the sting of isolation from those who simply don’t get it. But I’ve also found strength in others who walk this same painful road. Mothers like me, grieving, fighting, hoping and refusing to be silenced.

I’ve become my child’s advocate, their voice, their lifeline. I’ve had to educate myself on laws, court procedures, and motions, things I never thought I’d need to understand. I’ve learned to ask questions, demand answers, and never settle for injustice.

This journey has reshaped me. I’m not the same person I was before all of this. I’ve grown stronger, wiser, and more determined. My faith has deepened, not because this walk has been easy, but because I’ve had to lean on God just to make it through each day.

Through the pain, I’ve found purpose. I’m not just fighting for my child’s freedom; I’m fighting for change. I’m standing for every parent whose voice has been ignored, every family shattered by a broken system, and every soul behind bars who deserves dignity, hope, and a second chance.

So how has this affected me? It’s broken me and built me. It’s drained me and empowered me. It hurt me and awakened something fierce in me.

It shattered my heart in ways no words can fully explain. It stripped me of comfort, tore through my peace, and forced me to confront a world I never wanted to know. But in that same breaking, I found a new version of myself, one that is stronger, louder, wiser, and more spiritually grounded than I ever thought possible.

I’ve seen firsthand how unfair, cold, and cruel the justice system can be. I’ve cried in silence when no one was watching, prayed until my knees were sore, and stood in courtrooms feeling like I was screaming into a void. But through it all, I found purpose. I found a deeper love, a fiercer fight, and a faith that can’t be shaken.

I no longer see the world through the same lens. I’ve become a warrior, not just for my child, but for every mother walking this painful road. I advocate, I educate, I raise my voice because I know the pain of being ignored.

And while I didn’t choose this path, I will continue to walk it boldly, not just for my child, but for every mother whose heart beats behind prison walls.

This experience didn’t destroy me. It transformed me. And I will continue to rise, for my child, for justice, and for every family who feels invisible in this broken system.