The Journey to Writing This Book

This book was written in confinement, finished in freedom, and earned through survival.

It did not begin in an office or at a desk. It began in a prison cell with a pen, paper, and determination. There was no computer, no editor, no safety net. There was only the urgency to write before the moment passed.

I wrote until my fingers swelled, blistered, and bled. When the pain became too much, I wrapped my finger in toilet paper, taped it, and kept going. Stopping was never an option. The vision stayed with me even when my body tried to shut down.

After that, the manuscript sat untouched for thirteen years. Not because it lacked importance, but because survival came first. I came home and went straight to work, rebuilding what incarceration had taken. I worked in reentry, helping others find their way back. I spent over a decade in the workforce showing up, proving myself, and moving forward. Life demanded everything I had, and I gave it.

Still, the story never left.

One year ago, I picked the manuscript back up, and the weight hit immediately. Writing this book meant reliving what I survived. The isolation. The trauma. The reality of incarceration that does not fade with time. I thought I was ready, but I was not. The process reopened wounds I believed had healed, and it became so heavy that I returned to therapy just to keep going.

This book took everything out of me, yet I refused to stop.

Finishing was never about completing a project. It was about reclaiming my story on my own terms. That meant searching for the right people and paying the cost of that search. I went through multiple editors who could not get it right. I worked with designers who missed the depth this story required. I invested hard-earned money, time, energy, and sleep, only to encounter broken promises, unfinished work, or silence.

The hardest part was not losing money. It was watching people benefit from a dream without respect for the sacrifice behind it.

Even then, I kept going.

Eventually, the vision came together because I did not quit. Along the way, two people stood with me in different but equally meaningful ways. One stood beside me through every battle, steady and unwavering. The other, though never met in person, helped me navigate critical moments by offering clarity and direction when I needed it most. Their presence carried me through moments when quitting felt easier.

I was never alone in this journey.

Many nights, sleep would not come. My mind raced with how to make this book stronger, sharper, and more honest. When rest failed me, I wrote. That is what this story demanded.

Now, after years of setbacks, revisions, and persistence, this book is ready. It is not just a book. It is proof of determination, a declaration for anyone refusing to be defined by their past, and a record of survival written without shortcuts.

I did not just write this book. I survived it. And now, I am placing it in your hands.