Rebuilding Self-Worth and Confidence in Prison
Being referred to as a "mule" is not the most gratifying thing to have on one's list of life accomplishments. By definition, a mule is the mutt of the horse family, the offspring of a male donkey and a female horse. In the drug trafficking world, as most know, mules are couriers for illicit drugs. For years, senior ranking members of drug organizations - predominantly men - have been recruiting women of all socio-economic backgrounds to transport drugs. Some of these women enter the trade willingly; others not so willingly. Either way, they are viewed as disposable and many will be sacrificed at the border in order to get larger amounts of narcotics through with other passengers. For the most part they are simply used to distract border agents to get higher volumes through with other couriers and are forgotten soon after they are arrested. I quickly learned that I was that disposable distraction.
I felt horrible because I knew I was breaking the law, and my body was showing physiological signs of discomfort and distress as a result. But I kept my silence because I was terrified of the possible repercussions. It seemed like everyone was in on it at the departure airport. I thought that if I went to anybody for help they would find out and do God knows what to me. These people are what I like to call professional “petrifiers”. I was so unfamiliar with this world and the way it operates that you believe anything. After you get back, you realize that instilling fear is really all they usually do because if I were to disappear it could easily be determined whom you travelled with and where, which would prompt an international investigation and media frenzy. I speak as a Canadian coming from a middle class family, so l know this is not necessarily true for women in other countries. That being said, I decided I wasn't going to take any chances, and I was groomed (more on this tactic later) to the extent that I was led to believe nothing could possibly go wrong. How wrong I was. Once I had time to digest all the events that happened, I felt so pathetic after realizing how incredibly ignorant I was. At the time I got caught, however, I felt something that some people I have told find shocking: relief. I felt like at least it was over, I was safe and that they would soon forget about me. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be disposable.
After the arrest, I felt so ashamed, confused, and incredibly uneasy. I had now acquired my second tarnishing title: criminal. My parents had to bail me out, and I could barely look at them. They were thankful I was ok, but were obviously confused and disappointed. It took me awhile to convince them that I had never done this before. This was the truth. I had no idea the size of the mountain my family and I were all going to have to climb the next few years. The magnitude of the situation at that stage was just too surreal. I had to move back home with my mom, infantilizing enough on its own, but I also had to comply with strict regulations for the duration of the court case. I felt incredible guilt every day and constantly felt the horrific stress the whole situation was placing on my family. They tried to stay positive whenever the topic came up, but I knew that until the case had been resolved, the tension would always be underneath the surface. I was used to being completely independent, but here I was, at 27, relying on my parents like I was a child. Life wasn’t supposed to happen this way, and it frustrated me so much that I would go to the gym and just hit the punching bag until my knuckles were bruised and bleeding.
During those two and a half years, I changed my approach to life. I didn't quit; in fact, I did just the opposite. I propelled myself to work harder than I ever had before and managed to build up a modest social media marketing business that employed several others and served a large number of clients. I refused to accept that I was a criminal. I knew I had broken the law, but I also knew that other than this arrest, I spent my time helping others build their businesses and made an effort giving back. I believed myself to be a good person and I was determined to uphold this part of myself, which is why I spent most of my time on bail always working. I thrived off knowing that people looked to me to help their business succeed. It also placed a little chip on my shoulder, determined to prove doubters wrong. I had an extensive network of friends, spanning over multiple countries, and knew that I would not have achieved this success in both my professional and personal life if I was really the piece of crap that the police said I was. They really knew nothing about my life; they only knew about my life that day. One day out of one year out of the 27 I had lived up to that point.
On January 16th, 2018, Grand Valley Institution for Women became my new home. Once you get to prison, you are not just a criminal, you are also an inmate. All other identities are stripped away from you and you are told what to do on a daily basis. You have very few of your belongings, you do not have your family, and your privacy is limited. I knew I had to roll with the punches, and I was ready. I would not let prison destroy me, I just wouldn't. I knew that what I had done was wrong and I was ready to reflect on what I could have done differently. I had so many questions that I needed answers for to prepare me for my release and when I got out I wanted to help prevent someone else from facing the same fate I did. Finding confidence and rediscovering your self-worth isn't easy and it takes consistent effort. But it is possible. I thought I would share some of the ways I cultivated the strength to ditch any feelings of worthlessness and adopt the confidence that I would again do meaningful, positive things for the rest of my life.
Here are the top seven things that have really helped me these past few months:
Let go of trying to fix out of reach problems: If you keep trying to fix things that cannot be fixed, or try to control things that are out of your control, you are always going to be frustrated and feel like a failure. Work with things within your reach.
Learn by reading: The more you read, the more you know. The more you know, the more confident you will be. Pick a subject that interests you and get library books on it. Ask relatives over the phone for book titles related to that subject so you can request them out of the library. There is so much free and valuable information out there, so take advantage of it.
Write to someone that inspires you: Make it authentic and real, and they will more than likely write you back. Handwritten letters are personal, and they are way more likely to be opened than an email (because everyone emails these days). I wrote a letter to Lawrence Hill, author of "The Book of Negroes" telling him how his book helped me learn so much from a historical point of view and that it gave me a refreshing, more informative perspective. He responded, encouraged me to write a memoir of my own, and offered to meet up with me when I was released.
Help other inmates: We are all in this together, and if you can contribute by adding value to someone else's experience, do it. They will be forever grateful and you will feel appreciated. Little things go a long way.
Stay sober: I cannot express enough how being sober has improved my overall mental health. People use substances to avoid pain, but when the substances are gone, you feel even worse due to the chemical imbalances in your brain. Of course everyone is going to have bad days, but they aren't nearly as dark as the ones following substance abuse.
Set and stick to your boundaries: You simply cannot solve other people's problems. Don't let people try to pressure you into thinking you are responsible for their happiness. It is nice to be a good listener, but not having "you" time inhibits your ability to make your own progress. This is your time, no one else's.
Reach out for support: Write to a family member you haven't spoken to in awhile, or an old friend you lost contact with. You will be surprised how many people will be understanding and want to hear your side. Getting letter mail in return is really rewarding, especially when you feel forgotten.
Since coming to prison, I have have had the privilege of getting to know so many kind and nurturing women. The next challenge then, is helping any one I can to rebuild the self-confidence they once had, and to restore their self-worth so that they can live a healthy, happy, law abiding, and meaningful life upon release.