They say that the truth shall set you free. It’s a phrase we’ve all heard, maybe even believed. But when it comes to men and women who have completed their prison sentences, I’m not so sure about that. The truth is, they’ve served their time. They’ve done what was asked of them by the law. That’s supposed to be the end of it, right? The final chapter in a dark story.
But for many, leaving prison doesn’t mean they’re free. Physically, sure, they can walk out of the gates and breathe the fresh air. But mentally and emotionally, a lot of them are still shackled to the past. Prison doesn’t just take away time—it takes pieces of the person, too. And those pieces don’t magically come back when the door slams shut behind them for the last time.
Imagine walking out of a place where every moment is controlled, where you’re told when to eat, sleep, and move. Then suddenly, you’re expected to navigate a world that feels foreign, a world that has moved on without you. It’s like being thrust into a maze with no map, while everyone around you assumes you know the way. The truth is, you’re free—but not really.
You’re free to struggle with a mind that’s still caged by the trauma of incarceration. Free to battle with the societal stigma that tells you you’ll never be more than the worst thing you’ve ever done. Free to try to rebuild a life when the foundation feels shaky at best. And that’s if you’re lucky. If you have people who still believe in you, who still love you. For many, even that support is gone, and they’re left to navigate the post-prison world entirely alone.
The truth is, the system isn’t designed to set people free. It’s designed to punish, and once you’ve been punished, society often isn’t willing to let you forget it. That’s the real prison—being stuck in a cycle that feels impossible to break. You may have left the bars behind, but the weight of them lingers, pressing down on your spirit, keeping you from truly living.
So, does the truth really set you free? Maybe. But only if we acknowledge that freedom is more than just physical. Only if we, as a society, are willing to let go of our judgments, offer real support, and give those who’ve served their time a chance to rebuild—not just survive, but truly live. Until then, for many, freedom will remain just out of reach.
And-it really depends on who your Parole Officer is for many. Years ago I worked at an animal shelter where we worked for formerly incarcerated young people. I had a Parole Officer come in-all my kids were there for non violent offenses. This kid was different, but the PO spent time explaining the situation and I met the kid. We agreed to take him on. He proved to be, despite his ‘past’ so amazingly helpful. He went on to help in the client, became a Vet Assistant, and then, four years later went on to vet school with some help and a scholarship. He’s now a Veterinarian. The thing was, he had someone who believed in him, cared, and wanted him to succeed.
It’s a perfect example of what can happen when someone has the support and belief they need to break through the stigma of their past. Too often, people are written off because of their record, but your experience shows what’s possible when someone is given a real chance. It’s also a reminder that we can’t underestimate the role of compassion and understanding, both from those who supervise and those who give these individuals the opportunity to rewrite their future. Stories like his give hope and prove that transformation is possible when we invest in people, not just their mistakes. Thank you for being part of that change! 🙌