IncarcerationChapter №47January 29, 20265 min read

TheFirstNightAfterPrison

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Everyone told me I was free, but I still felt like I needed permission to walk outside. I stood at the door of my sister's apartment for maybe ten minutes with my hand on the knob.

Six years of being told when to eat, when to sleep, when to stand. You don't unlearn that in a car ride.

That first night I slept on the floor. The bed was too soft and too quiet and it felt like a trick.

I'm still learning how to want things out loud. But I made coffee this morning, in my own kitchen, and nobody counted me.

A reflection

Where in your life are you still waiting for permission?

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