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A Court Said We Could Speak. The Prison Found a Loophole.


I have a court order that says I can speak to my husband. Not loosely. Not “maybe.” It was clearly ruled that we are allowed to communicate as long as we don’t discuss our case. That order still stands.

But the prison didn’t come out and deny it. They did something else. They found a loophole.

According to them, we are still allowed to communicate. Just not through phone calls, not through visits, not through video. The only thing they’re allowing is written communication. So on paper, they get to say they’re not cutting off contact. They can point to that and act like they’re following the rules.

But here’s what that actually looks like in real life.

My husband writes me, and the letters don’t come. I write him, and my letters get refused or never make it to him. He follows protocol exactly the way he’s supposed to. He submits requests. He asks to speak to staff. He does everything “right.” And then we’re told he hasn’t reached out.

How is he supposed to reach out when the very system he’s required to use is the same system swallowing everything he sends?

And it’s not just letters. Every appeal he files somehow ends up in the same place—“never received.” It doesn’t matter if he submits it on the tablet, handwrites it, or physically hands it to staff. Somehow, it just disappears. Every single time.

We ordered him a book. It was delivered. Confirmed delivered to the Department of Corrections. And still, they say they never received it.

At some point, “lost” stops making sense. At some point, you have to call it what it is.

A pattern.

Because when everything someone sends disappears, when everything coming in gets blocked, and when every attempt to follow the rules leads nowhere, that’s not coincidence anymore.

I’m not just a prison wife. I’m a former Correctional Officer. I know how this system is supposed to work, and I know what it looks like when it’s not being followed.

This isn’t a misunderstanding. This isn’t things slipping through the cracks. This is a system that gets to say, “We’re allowing communication,” while making sure no communication actually happens.

I’ve been without my husband for two years already. Two years of trying to hold onto a connection that shouldn’t be this hard to maintain. I go to sleep not knowing if he’s okay. I wake up hoping maybe something came through. A letter, anything. And most days, it’s just nothing.

He’s struggling. Mentally, emotionally, and without the support he’s supposed to have access to. And I’m supposed to be that support. That’s my role in his life. But what happens when the system takes that away and then pretends it didn’t?

This isn’t about convenience. It’s not about preference. It’s about a prison system hiding behind a technicality while interfering with the only form of communication they claim to allow.

Because saying we can write each other doesn’t mean anything if the letters never make it.

I’ve followed every rule. I’ve gone through every proper channel. I’ve done this the right way over and over again, and it leads to the same place every time.

Nowhere.

So I’m done staying quiet about it.

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