I promise you….

As I sat with her in her art studio more than a year ago, she said “I promise you, what you are going through right now is the worst part”.

I had just been sentenced to 36 months and was awaiting an answer on my motion for compassionate release. Looking back now, the waiting was the worst part. When the rug is pulled out from under you, when someone you trusted (or several someones) arent who you thought they were and you have no sort of control over what is happening in your life or the outcome…that is the worst.

On the day I was sentenced, we were taking my daughter to her house and I said, “I think I need you to pull over” he said, “you will make it”. Before we could get all the way into the gate of the community I opened the door and was trying to get out. I was physically sick, I had nothing but coffee that morning and you would have thought I drank 5 gallons of water. I don’t know where it came from..He said it came from the last several years of poison in your life. The not knowing was mostly over, I didn’t hear back from my newest motion until the afternoon before I was to self surrender. It was denied, but hope, because she told me I could file again.

She was right, waiting was the worst part. I am grateful I was sentenced when I was, for so many reasons. Once you know what you are looking at, some of the stress will ease. You now know, mostly, whats ahead and there are many people that can help with answers to most of the questions you have if you just look for them.

Peace for your Saturday


If you are looking at prison time this will be your new nickname, Bunkie, at least at the Federal Women’s Camp.

I moved on to the compound on May 7th after being in quarantine for 21 days and I was assigned to an upper bunk in an already occupied lower bunk cubicle.

My first Bunkie, A*, was the same age as I was and worked in the Commissary Warehouse. We had similar hours which helped when it came to our routines.

When she came home that afternoon she definitely had her guard up and asked me if I had ever done time, I said no. So she basically said “My stuff is my stuff and your stuff is your stuff”. Easy enough. I later would learn that one of her previous Bunkie’s had been blamed for stealing from her.

It didn’t take us long to become friends. I really liked living with A, she liked it quiet and read a lot. We didn’t have much company which was good with me as well. All of the women I came in with were in the same unit, only upstairs. So I would often go up and eat dinner or just hang with them. This also gave A* her privacy too, I had mine after work most days, she would get home later than me. I was an early riser on the weekends and would spend time writing, making bookmarks or reading. I became friends with some of her friends too and before she left we would all shop for meals and eat together. A* would talk a lot of shit to the loud women in the unit and she would also sing heavy rock songs when some of the other women would start in at the top of their lungs. We had a lot of laughs in the few months we spent together and I will always consider her a friend.

I was fortunate enough to have only good Bunkie’s during my stay. A* left to go to quarantine in the end of July and that’s when I moved with K* upstairs into another cubicle. K* was a lot of fun and became a good friend. We would talk and listen to each others stories and become each others confidants as well. K* is a year younger than I am and we got along well. I thought I was funny when I would learn some new terminology and go back to the cubicle and tell K* for shock value. She would always tell me to grow up, the answer was always “NEVER!!!”.

I had two more Bunkie’s before I left another K* and H*. I was lucky, they were both easy to get a long with. H* and I had become really good friends, we both came in about the same time and just clicked right away, so living with her was easy.

If you find yourself in a situation like this consider the following:

  • Always be mindful of the other person’s space and belongings
  • Do not allow just anyone in your cubicle without consideration of your Bunkie
  • What’s yours is yours and what’s hers is hers
  • Pick up after yourself and share the cleaning responsibilities, you both live there
  • If you don’t want it done to you, don’t do it to your Bunkie

Just be considerate. You can always ask to move if things don’t work out, but have a place and person to live with before you ask. Staff doesn’t like pettiness and will not move you for no reason, you could possibly end up in the hallway or in a different unit altogether.

Peace for your day!

** The image pictured above is from a general search. This is the bunkbeds we slept in and we also had a metal wall mounted desk like the one pictured. We had two lockers (short), for our personal items and food storage and hung our clothes at the end of the bed. Before I left we were given plastic bins to store under our beds, they were taken for the men’s FCI before I stayed at the camp. We were a working camp for the property which included a men’s federal prison.

First things first…

Being gone for almost a year and really having time to think about some of the things that took place prior to me going away is the first thing that is on my mind.

In 2020 I had to reach out to my closest friends and family members to ask for character letters for my Judge. The amount and substance of these letters brought me to my knees. I had letters from friendships that spanned over thirty years and friendships that spanned two years. The genuine support I had was and still is overwhelming and deeply felt. Every time I went to the mail box and there were letters, I knew tears would follow.

Which brings me to the reason I am writing this piece in the first place.

There were three people who I asked to write me a character letter. One, I had worked with in the same industry and had been in and out of contact with over the years. The previous conversation we had he asked “are you dating?”, I told him no. So when I asked for the letter his response was “I don’t know what you have been doing for the last 15 years”. Bitch!

When I told my Mom what happened, she knew him, she said to me….”Someday he will need someone and no one will be there for him. Just let it go.” I did, but I was angry. I thought way too much of the people who were supposed to be my friends.

So, I had similar experiences with three women I know. One I have known since I was 16…”I will write you an amazing letter…blah..blah..blah…we have been through so much together..blah…blah..blah…I love you…BLAH….BLAH…BLAH!” Two weeks before my letters were to be delivered to my attorney I reached out to her. Calls, messages, texts….dead air. My last message was “Just let me know if you cant/dont feel comfortable writing the letter.” DEAD.AIR. Technology…when you can see the messages have been picked up. Someone close to me said, “Call her on her shit!”. For what? At the end of the day there is nothing that can be said or done to undo what was done. The other two….different stories but along the same lines.

Hurt?? In the beginning, a lot. Venting…completely!

When someone asks you for something don’t say yes, if you have no intention of doing it. Don’t drag ass or bullshit them. Especially when it’s something important to them. They will have more respect for you if you just say no.

A character letter is about how you see and view the person you know, the relationship you have with them, their qualities and familiarity with them. It’s that easy, it’s only about the way you know them.

So, yes, I am back. I look forward to writing about my experience and hopefully helping people get through similar situations.

There is more to come….


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