Love Behind Bars: The Unseen Struggles of a Prison Wife

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." — Joshua 1:9

In today’s post, I delve into a personal aspect of my journey—life as a prison wife to Ryan, intertwined with the knowledge I gained from working within the very system that now holds him. This dual perspective brings unique challenges and insights, painting a raw picture of love and resilience in the face of a deeply flawed system.

Becoming a prison wife after serving as a correctional officer has opened my eyes to the contradictions and injustices that pervade the prison environment. Knowing the inner workings, the politics, and the undercurrents of corruption exacerbates the worry and frustration that come with each day Ryan spends behind bars.

Each morning begins with an undercurrent of anxiety. The routine calls that bridge our worlds are both a lifeline and a reminder of the miles and bars between us. These calls are our moments of normalcy, but they’re always shadowed by the awareness of being monitored, the reality of our words being recorded, a stark contrast to the freedom of privacy we once took for granted.

Visits are a mix of anticipation and dread. I know too well the procedures, the scrutiny of guards, and the oppressive atmosphere that greets me each time. Seeing Ryan in that environment, interacting with him through barriers both physical and regulatory, is a reminder of the power the system holds over our lives. My knowledge of what happens behind the scenes—of how guards can wield their power arbitrarily and how rules can be twisted—adds a layer of helplessness and vigilance to every interaction.

And then there’s the return home, a journey filled with reflections on what’s left behind. I drive away from the stark buildings, aware of the stark realities those walls contain—realities I once oversaw. It’s a drive I've made countless times, each leaving its own scar on the hopeful facade we try to maintain.

Through this blog, I hope to bring to light the day-to-day emotional battles that go unseen by the public and often unacknowledged by those who control the system. It’s not just about the loneliness or the struggle to maintain a relationship across prison walls; it’s about fighting against a system that seems designed to suppress hope at every turn.

As we continue to share and advocate, let’s remember the human element, the personal stories that need a voice. And for those who stand by someone inside, know that your strength, your advocacy, and your love are your power against a system that needs reform. Together, let’s push for a system that uplifts rather than undermines, that respects rather than restrains.

Comments

Exposing the Deadly Reality at La Palma Correctional Facility: How Many More Have to Die?

For years, La Palma Correctional Facility in Eloy, Arizona, has been a hotspot for controversy, yet little has been done to address the rampant corruption, officer misconduct, and systemic failures that have turned it into a living hell for those incarcerated within its walls. Most recently, another inmate has died—one of many whose deaths could have been prevented if those in charge had taken real action instead of covering up their negligence. On January 2, 2025, I fought to have my husband moved out of La Palma due to the sheer volume of drugs flooding the yard, which were being brought in by correctional officers. I reported specific names to the Special Security Unit (SSU), thinking that doing the right thing would bring change. Instead, my concerns fell on deaf ears. Now, here we are, with more inmates losing their lives—many of these deaths are suspected overdoses, yet little to no investigation ever seems to result in actual change. A History of Negligence and Deaths This lates...

Until You’ve Walked Through Those Gates, Sit Down and Be Quiet

-By DeAnna You see memes like this floating around all the time — the ones that crack jokes about how “good” inmates supposedly have it. You know the ones: they talk about sex three times a day, reading books, working out, and then “complaining” about prison life. People laugh, hit share, and feel smug because they think they know something about what it’s like inside. I used to be one of them. I used to think prison was “right.” I believed it was what people deserved if they broke the law. I repeated the clichés: “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” “Three hots and a cot.” “They’ve got it easy in there.” And then… I worked there. Let me tell you something: until you’ve walked through those locking gates — hearing that buzzer, watching that steel door slam behind you, feeling the air shift from free to suffocating — you don’t know a damn thing about prison. Until you’ve seen the reality — the mace, the gas grenades, the cell extractions that leave blood on the floor, the...

Two Years for Corruption. Seven Years for Addiction.

There’s something I can’t shake today. And honestly… it makes me sick. I just read about a correctional officer at the same prison my husband is sitting in right now —Lewis Prison Complex—who was caught smuggling heroin, fentanyl, and cell phones into the facility. Not using. Not struggling. Not trying to survive addiction. Smuggling. Trafficking. Profiting. Investigators didn’t just catch him once either. This wasn’t some “bad decision” moment. This was a full investigation—months long—with surveillance, evidence, and tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of drugs tied to it. Let me say that again… A man with a badge, authority, and access was bringing poison into a prison —into a place already filled with men fighting addiction, trauma, and survival every single day. Now here’s the part that I cannot wrap my head around… My husband is serving seven years for doing drugs. Seven years. For addiction. For a battle that started when he was a child—before he even had ...

From Guard to Wife: My Journey in the Shadows of the Justice System

Search This Blog