“True love doesn’t rescue you — it walks beside you while you save yourself.”
It’s been a minute since I published an article—not for lack of ideas but simply lack of time. July is that time of year when things become a little more reflective, especially for those of us who work with and alongside the Department of Corrections (DOC). Whether you’re a volunteer, advocate, activist, or a citizen ally, this month holds weight. It marks not only the close of one fiscal year and the beginning of another, but a moment to pause and ask ourselves:
What did I actually accomplish this year?
How did I show up for the people I serve?
Did I uphold my values?
Did I help someone in a meaningful way?
These are the questions we sit with—not just as professionals, but as human beings trying to make a dent in a system too often built to overlook the people inside it.
In the last few days, I’ve been hearing from many of my friends—some still behind the walls, others trying to make it in the community. What strikes me, and honestly worries me, is how many are going back into custody. Whether it’s a parole hold, a county jail stay, or a full parole revocation, the volume is high. Higher than I’ve seen in years.
Something’s shifting.
And I’m not entirely sure what it is.
Is parole in Colorado becoming more rigid, more unforgiving? Are we failing at reentry support, or are we not reading the deeper signs of burnout, pressure, and disconnection?
There’s one pattern I’ve seen emerge over and over—and it’s difficult to talk about, but necessary.
Every single person I’ve spoken to who was revoked or placed back into custody had one common denominator: a relationship gone wrong.
More specifically, a woman was involved. That’s not to blame women—in fact, many women in reentry face similar challenges. But the emotional entanglements, toxic dynamics, or poor relationship choices have consistently surfaced as a primary factor in someone’s downfall post-release.
This isn’t about judgment. It’s about reality.
When I ask what happened, the stories unfold the same way—arguments, betrayals, manipulation, returning to old partners, or rekindling relationships that should’ve stayed in the past. There’s that saying, “Don’t walk into the same river twice.” Yet too many do. And the outcome is no different than the first time.
When I worked in community corrections, I could almost script what returning citizens would tell me their first day out:
“I need sex. It’s been too long.”
“I need a steak.”
As if these two things were symbols of freedom. Perhaps, to some, they are. But often, they’re used as distractions—ways to cope with the disorientation of reentry or the emotional deficit that incarceration leaves behind.
The truth is, if you could survive years inside without these things, you can survive a little longer without rushing into unhealthy choices. The stakes are too high.
We need to start having honest conversations—not just about housing and jobs, but about relationships, intimacy, boundaries, and emotional safety. Reentry isn’t just about physical freedom. It’s about rebuilding a life that doesn’t drag you back into custody, whether by systems or by self-sabotage.
So as we start this new fiscal year, I urge everyone doing this work to reflect—deeply and compassionately. What do our clients really need when they come home? What patterns are we ignoring? What support systems are failing?
And for those returning citizens reading this:
You have the right to choose peace over passion, growth over comfort, and your future over your past.
Because if you’ve made it this far, you’re capable of making it even farther.
Women Who Visit: Two Kinds, Two Outcomes
I visit prisons often — too often to count. Private, state, federal, county jails — name it, I’ve been there. I visit people weekly, sometimes monthly, sometimes daily. I’ve been doing this long enough to start seeing patterns, and one of the most striking ones is this:
The women who come to visit the men inside.
It’s a sight you see every single day in every facility — women lined up, cleared through security, waiting to see their husband, boyfriend, pen pal, or “somebody.” But the more I observe, the more I’ve come to believe there are two kinds of women who visit incarcerated men.
1. The Ones Who Stay for a Reason
These women are sincere. They’re not there for show, not looking for attention — they’re present because they believe in the man they love. They’re committed for the long haul. These are the women who maintain real relationships through thick and thin. They bring encouragement, stability, and grounding. They don’t just visit — they support, they advocate, they show up.
These women understand the difficulty of maintaining a relationship under the weight of incarceration, and they choose to do it anyway. For them, this isn’t about fantasy. It’s about resilience and loyalty.
2. The Ones Who Come for the Show
Then there’s the second group.
Let’s call them what they are — the Miss Congenialities, the debutantes of visitation day. They show up in tight clothing they know won’t pass inspection. High heels they’ll be asked to remove. They come with attitude, looking to start arguments with staff and officers. They’ll blame everyone else when they’re denied entry — not because of policy, but because they deliberately broke the rules.
And here’s where it gets serious: this group is responsible for the majority of contraband being brought into facilities.
Just between January and July this year, there were 426 incidents involving Suboxone strips smuggled into DOC facilities — not pills, but strips, which we know don’t come from DOC’s medical distribution. And the question everyone already knows the answer to is:
Who’s bringing them in?
Most often, it’s women.
Now, this article isn’t about attacking women. Men make their choices too. But the reality is, prison life is monotonous. The same schedule, same walls, same routine, day in and day out. So when someone new writes a letter, when someone visits — even if they’re a stranger — that person can suddenly become the center of your universe.
Some of these women give affection, attention, and promises — and the men, starved for connection, believe it. But belief isn’t the same as reality.
Love Behind Bars Isn’t Always What It Seems
Not all prison relationships are built on truth or stability. In fact, some are built on delusion. I call it pink-lens vision — the tendency of people inside to see things more brightly, more romantically, more hopefully than they really are. It’s a coping mechanism. But it can also be dangerous.
Women can be loving, loyal, and healing — but they can also be vicious, manipulative, and dramatic. And when someone behind the walls has limited options, they may allow themselves to be pulled into drama that eventually costs them more than just peace of mind — it can cost them parole, privileges, or even their life.
We’ve even seen cases where men in prison juggle multiple women — a pen pal, a girlfriend, a wife — all visiting on different days. And yes, it happens. But that’s a story for another day.
This isn’t about shaming anyone. It’s about raising awareness of a dynamic we don’t talk about enough. Not all relationships in prison are harmful — some are redemptive, beautiful, and transformative. But some are built on chaos, control, and fantasy.
If you’re a woman visiting someone inside, ask yourself why you’re doing it. If your reason is real — keep going. But if it’s about attention, control, or crossing boundaries — step back. You may be doing more harm than good.
And if you’re inside reading this — remember not everyone who visits you is meant to stay with you.
Choose wisely.
Your freedom might depend on it.
Parole, Probation, and the Power of Relationships: When Love Becomes a Liability
Let’s go back to the thought that’s been gnawing at me for a long time:
Why do nearly 90% of men end up back in custody—on parole revocation, probation violation, or some other supervision sanction—because of a relationship with a woman?
I’ve heard it all:
- “She filed a restraining order against me.”
- “I’m just texting her too much.”
- “She’s acting crazy.”
- “We had a fight, and now she’s calling my PO.”
And while there are always two sides to every story, what concerns me deeply is how fragile supervision really is—how one phone call, one accusation, one emotionally charged decision can send someone straight back into custody.
The Unequal Power of a Phone Call
When you’re on parole or probation, you live in a different reality. One mistake—real or perceived—can cost you everything. These systems aren’t built on benefit of the doubt; they’re built on risk management. And often, it’s not about proof — it’s about who gets to the phone first.
Some women—not all, but too many—know this power all too well. They know that a single call to a parole officer, a vague accusation, or even a strategic restraining order can put a man right back in handcuffs. Whether the complaint is legitimate or not, the consequences are the same: jail, a parole hold, a violation hearing, and possibly prison.
And that’s not justice. That’s manipulation.
Should every woman be dismissed? Absolutely not. But not every conflict should result in revocation either. Unless the situation is severe—violence, stalking, threats—there needs to be room for context, investigation, and balance. Sending someone to jail over excessive texting? That’s not rehabilitation. That’s system abuse.
Supervision Is Not a Game
Here’s a real example I’ve seen too often:
A man convicted of a specific offense crime is married. They just had a baby. Both the husband and wife are on parole. Disclosure rules say that if someone with a sex offense conviction is living with—or around—children, it must be disclosed to the treatment provider and parole officer. It’s non-negotiable.
But in this case, the wife kept it quiet. She didn’t report it. She pretended nothing happened.
That’s not love. That’s negligence.
Now he’s heading back to prison—not because he was sneaky, but because both of them chose to ignore the rules they knew very well. And that’s not a “mistake” — that’s a decision.
When someone on supervision fails to stay in their lane, they’re not just risking their own freedom — they’re undermining the integrity of the entire reentry process.
The Fantasy of Saving Someone
We need to talk about this too: the savior complex.
Some women believe it’s their mission to “save” a man from himself. They fall in love with the fantasy. The bad boy. The wounded soul. The man who just needs one more chance.
And some men believe they need a woman at all costs—any woman.
Because connection feels like freedom. Because love feels like a new identity.
Because no one wants to walk through reentry alone.
But when that relationship is unhealthy, manipulative, or built on lies, it doesn’t save anyone. It destroys both.
And Who Is the Real Victim?
People ask me all the time—“Well, who’s the real victim here?”
Let’s be honest. We all are.
We’ve all been lied to, cheated on, betrayed, abandoned.
We’ve all been broken in some way.
But that doesn’t give anyone the right to weaponize pain or power against someone else—especially not within a system that’s already stacked against second chances.
We don’t talk enough about the role of relationships in reentry failure. We focus on housing, employment, treatment—but rarely on emotional safety. Who we choose to love, trust, and allow into our lives during the most vulnerable season of reentry can either ground us… or undo us.
So my advice to those on parole, probation, or supervision:
Choose peace over passion.
Choose structure over chaos.
And most importantly, choose yourself—your freedom, your future, your growth.
Because your next mistake doesn’t have to be your last chance.
“Love After Lockup” — More Than a Show, It’s a Reality Check
Many of you have probably seen the TV series Love After Lockup. On the surface, it’s just another reality show—but for those of us who work in the justice system or have lived through incarceration, it hits differently.
Some parts of the show are funny, even entertaining. Other parts are intense, emotional, and yes—painfully real. People who’ve just been released fall into relationships quickly, often without the tools to navigate love, trust, or boundaries in the free world. Sometimes, those relationships lead right back to prison—via revocation, relapse, or worse.
And that’s why the title is so fitting: Love After Lockup.
Structure Inside vs. Chaos Outside
Inside prison, people live with structure. There’s a daily schedule. There’s order, even in dysfunction. Everything—when to wake up, when to eat, when to move—is dictated by rules. While it’s far from ideal, it gives people a kind of rhythm, and over time, that rhythm becomes familiar.
Then they’re released.
Suddenly, that structure disappears, and they’re thrown into a world that demands fast decisions, emotional regulation, job performance, parenting, technology literacy, financial management, and more—all at once.
And to top it all off, they start a new relationship—often within weeks or months of getting out.
Some of them spent 10, 15, or 20 years inside.
Some of them met their partner through letters.
And six months later? They’re married.
What are we missing here?
Love During Lockup: The Fantasy Phase
There’s also Love During Lockup, the companion show, which documents couples while one partner is still incarcerated. This series is eye-opening because you witness both perspectives: the person inside and the person on the outside.
They’re from two very different worlds.
The one inside is lonely, isolated, and emotionally hungry. The one outside might be seeking love, attention, or purpose. Together, they form a bond—but is it built on reality? Or on fantasy?
You’d be surprised how often that emotional high feels like love, when in fact it’s survival. It’s connection during crisis. And when that crisis ends—i.e., when the person is released—suddenly the relationship is no longer protected by distance, limited phone calls, and idealized images. Now it has to survive in the real world.
And often, it doesn’t.
The Risk for Those on Supervision
Let’s speak plainly:
If you’re on parole, probation, or intensive supervision, especially with a specific offense crime, jumping into a romantic relationship early in your reentry is a dangerous game.
Why?
Because you are under a microscope. You are still in treatment. You are still stabilizing.
And most programs will tell you: relationships can be a major distraction or even a violation, depending on the rules of your supervision. If you’re in treatment and haven’t disclosed your relationship, that’s a problem. And if you’re dating someone around children while under certain restrictions—that’s a serious violation.
It’s not just about breaking the rules. It’s about putting your freedom, your progress, and your mental health at risk.
Love Isn’t the Problem—Timing Is
Let’s be clear:
This is not a warning against love.
It’s a reminder about timing.
Love can be beautiful, grounding, and healing—but only if it’s built with care, self-awareness, and accountability. Coming out of prison and rushing into a full-blown relationship, especially when you’re still learning how to survive in the free world, is like learning to drive on the freeway before you’ve even passed your permit test.
If you haven’t watched Love After Lockup, I recommend it—not for entertainment, but for education. You’ll see the struggles. You’ll see the patterns. And if you’re walking a reentry path yourself, it might help you reflect on your own choices.
Don’t gamble your freedom for fantasy.
Build a foundation first—then build a relationship.
Love after lockup is possible—but only when it’s real, healthy, and timed right.
Protect Your Peace, Guard Your Freedom
To those still behind the walls and to those walking the line on probation or parole:
Be protective of yourself. Be selfish—and know that it’s okay.
You’ve already lived through one of the hardest chapters of your life. Why would you walk back into the same traps, especially when you know better this time?
If you carry a specific offense charge, you know exactly how serious things can get. And you also know—whether anyone wants to admit it or not—that not every accusation was rooted in truth. Some came from pain, some from lies, some from revenge. So don’t let yourself be fooled again. Learn from it. Own your part, but don’t repeat it.
For those who did long time:
Sex, love, connection—it’ll come.
But rushing into something reckless just because you’ve been deprived will only land you back where you started. Don’t risk your freedom for a fast emotional fix.
And yes, this message is coming from a woman. Call it funny if you want. Some say men are foolish, some say women are emotional—but the truth is, it’s your responsibility to keep your freedom safe, no matter who tempts it.
Take off the pink lenses. See clearly.
Take your time. Make sure it’s the right person, at the right time, for the right reasons.
You’re not alone—not really. There are billions of people on this planet. You can walk into a Starbucks, talk to a stranger, and feel connection without compromising your parole. That’s how possible it is to find companionship without chaos.
Don’t chase a relationship just because it feels good in the moment. Ask yourself:
Do I need this? Or do I just want it?
Like buying a purse—do you need one, or are you just drawn to the idea of having one?
Find something—or someone—that enhances your life, not something that threatens it. Let your relationships give you strength and purpose, not probation holds and regrets.
Listen to your intuition. Protect your progress. And don’t fool yourself.
And for those who may already be in trouble—maybe this time, it’ll just be a slap on the wrist. Maybe you’ll come back home, finish your supervision, and learn your lesson.
But next time? You may not get that chance.
Justice Unlocked. 
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