This story is graciously shared by a resident at Benevolence Farm. The written format was developed in partnership with Hidden Voices.
When I left, my daughter was 15. I was gone for over seven years. So I missed her teenage, I missed her prom, missed her driving, missed everything else. I’m trying to establish that bond with her, trying to get to know her as an adult and to let her know that the mistakes I made before I went to prison, I’m trying to correct.
People don’t always understand we’re trying to turn our lives around, trying to reunite with our family and friends that we left for so long. We’re really putting ourselves out there. Because emotionally and mentally it’s hard to step back out onto the community. Even if you had contact with your family and friends, you really don’t know them after so many years. You have to learn those people over again, but also they’re having to learn us, because we’re different people than when we made those mistakes. We’ve did a lot of maturing and growing while we was inside, because the only thing you have to do inside is sit and think “should of,” “could of,” and “would of.” We’ve had that time to better ourselves, and when we come back out into the community, we want to do better.
Connecting with my daughter was scary at first because I didn’t know if she really wanted me to be around much. When I was in prison, I only talked to her once a week because of the cost. I was afraid she would hate me when I got out. So, I’m trying not to smother her. Cause me, I want to be around her all the time. But she’s got a life, she’s got school, she’s got a boyfriend. So, it’s kind of hard because you’re trying to fit back into their life, into their schedule. Sometimes it can get hurtful if you feel like they don’t have the time for you. But you can’t make it about you because we’re the ones went in. We’re the ones that made that mistake. It’s not their fault.
I think it helps when they can see that you really, really mean what you say. Because you can say it, but your actions are what matters. They’re scared. They’re scared you’re going to get took away from ’em again, or you’re going to go back in, so it scares them to get close to you again.
But also they’re proud of you. Proud that you’re trying something else. It’s a big thing. Cause I know the consequences. I know what I’ve got to lose.
