Three years of my life spent in federal prison. Thirty-six months spent learning about life in a completely new way. One thousand ninety-six days waking up knowing I am under the control of my oppressors. Twenty-six thousand three hundred and four hours missing my daughter’s life.

I was asked the other day what I was feeling at that particular instant. My answer was that I felt peaceful and confident. I feel both of those at all times. When I look back to that moment three years ago when I was on FaceTime with my mother, tears running down my face, promising her I would be okay, it makes me realize how far I have come and how much about life, coincidence, and energy I have really learned. I found myself in prison, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

When I look back at these three years, the first thing that comes to mind is all the people–all the men I’ve met in prison, and the people on the outside who have supported me at different times and throughout this whole ordeal. I think about how each and every person has come into my life at the perfect time for what I’m going through. Whether it was a cellmate for months at a time in the SHU, or people from the Internet I’ve never met in person, some people have shown me that there is a deeper meaning to life, a more spiritual basis for our very existence. Even some of the books I’ve read here contain ideas that I know I was meant to read. This is what puts me at peace: knowing that I’m on the right path to fulfill my life purpose.

It hasn’t all been roses. Having someone close to me, someone who showed me so much about life on a deeper level, get stabbed through the eye was probably the most shocking moment of my prison experience. Combined, I’ve spent over 13 months of these three years locked in a cell for 24 hours a day. I’ve lost friends and missed birthdays. I’ve been locked up while my father was in the hospital on four separate occasions. My daughter barely remembers spending any actual time with me before prison. People have moved on while I simply sat behind a wall. All of these things were hard to deal with, but in the end, they only made me see life in a more positive light.

I’m going to shock the people who knew me before prison by how much I’ve changed. They’re going to see a side of me that didn’t exist before prison. This post will hopefully be the last time I have to reflect on prison while still incarcerated since I should be out this fall. My daughter told me that she doesn’t want me to let her know when I’m getting out; she wants me to surprise her. Her mother told me that she watches videos of men getting reunited with their families and wants that for herself. I can’t wait for that moment, either. 

The next chapter starts when I have the chance to process and reflect on the last three years. That’s when I’ll move on to the next stage of becoming the person I’ve always been destined to be. Prison didn’t end my story, it just gave it a beginning.