Love Harder

Love Harder

I’ve been incarcerated for 40 months now, and every time I say that, it stings. It’s not about comparing my time to others or the specifics of my situation—it’s the number itself that bothers me. Saying “40 months” reminds me of those new parents who, when asked how old their child is, proudly respond with something like “49 months.” It’s always caught me off guard. “49 months? Do you really want me to do the math right now?” I think, trying to smile while mentally calculating. Eventually, I figure out it’s four years and one month and respond, “Oh, so they’re four!” But inside, I’m still wondering why they chose to measure their child’s age in months.

But now, I get it. I didn’t before, but I do now. We count in months because those months matter—they’re precious. Just as parents cherish every moment with their child, those of us who are incarcerated count the months because time has taken on a new significance. Every single month matters.

Loving someone who’s incarcerated is no easy task. It requires a level of loyalty and commitment that few can understand. Just as raising a child isn’t simple, being there for someone behind bars is an immense challenge. When a loved one is incarcerated, it often feels like the entire family is doing time. The ripple effects of incarceration are profound, and they can leave scars that last long after the sentence is over.

It’s easy to overlook these impacts when you’re just trying to survive. When you’re in the thick of it, dealing with the daily grind of prison life, it’s hard to see or even care about the damage being done. But that damage is real. It’s like being chased through a jungle by a lion—you’re so focused on survival that you don’t notice the destruction you’re leaving in your wake. The branches you break, the vegetation you trample—all of it takes years to grow back, if it ever does.

Incarceration is hard. But in my time here, after meeting hundreds, maybe thousands, of other inmates, I’ve noticed something significant. One of the most common threads among us is a lack of love. Whether it’s a missing father figure, the absence of a mother’s care, or the void left by a mentor, the sense of not being enough often leads to the choices that land people in prison.

So, what can you do? How do you start to turn things around? The answer is simple: love them. Love them through the tough times, through the difficult conversations, through lockdowns and the lack of appreciation. Love them harder.

Love begets love. Letting your incarcerated loved one know that they are loved means more than putting money on their books or picking up the phone every time they call. It’s about knowing, deep down, that no matter what, they are loved. When we experience love, we can’t feel the opposite emotions at the same time. Love shields us, brings happiness, and even spreads light to others in the darkest places.

So, remember: love them harder, and never lose hope.