As I approach my release date from the Bureau of Prisons on April 11, 2025, I feel a mix of gratitude, reflection, and hope. This Friday marks the end of a long, challenging, and transformative journey—326 days in total.
I spent the first part of my sentence at the Victorville Satellite Women’s Camp from May 20 to December 9, 2024. Then I transitioned to the Working Alternatives Federal Halfway House in Garden Grove, where I stayed until March 17, 2025. Since then, I’ve been on Home Confinement—back home, where my heart always was.
While 326 days might not seem like a long time to some, it was long enough to miss one birthday, one Memorial Day, one Fourth of July, one Halloween, one Thanksgiving, one Christmas, one New Year’s, one Valentine’s Day, one St. Patrick’s Day… you get the idea. Every holiday marked time passing without the people I love. But Easter? I didn’t miss Easter (my favorite Holiday) and maybe that’s symbolic. Because if any holiday reflects what I’ve been through, it’s Easter. This has been a season of rebirth—a painful, humbling, eye-opening rebirth—but a rebirth nonetheless.
Coming home to my dad and my 12-year-old grandson Warren has shown me exactly where I’m meant to be. My dad is 80, and Warren is growing up fast. I often fought the system during this process—not just for myself, but for them. Because being here, being present, is everything.
The biggest lesson this journey has taught me is the value of time. Time away from your loved ones. Time away from your community. Time away from those who need you. It’s not just the person serving time who suffers—your absence ripples through everyone who loves you.
Since I’ve been home, I’ve thrown myself into the little things that make a home feel whole—cooking, baking, organizing, cleaning. I was surprised to find that most of the baking supplies had expired in 2022—the year I was arrested and then just two days later, my mom passed away. My dad had been carrying the weight of her declining health, and I had no idea how bad things had gotten. That’s time I can’t get back—but it’s time I can try to honor, every day forward.
I hope my dad and Warren can see the effort I’m making. Because I know now, more than ever, that our choices don’t just affect us. They affect the people closest to us, often in ways we can’t fully understand until it’s too late.This past year has shown me that when you make a mistake—especially one with legal consequences—it’s not just your life that gets disrupted. Everyone around you absorbs the ripple effect. Your family, your friends, your community—they all feel the impact. And they didn’t deserve that.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: keep your people close. Don’t let go. Be there for those who need you. And never take your time—or theirs—for granted. Never take a single day for granted.
This season of my life is ending, but something new is beginning. I’m not just closing a chapter—I’m stepping into something new. Something better. Something reborn.
Here’s to redemption, to second chances, and to the people who never stopped believing in me. I’m closing this chapter, but the next one is already being written—with more love, more purpose, and more time well spent.
On to 6 months of Home Confinement with the DOJ and 3 years of Supervised Release.
