BMR II: The Waiting Game

There’s a certain kind of emotional purgatory no one prepares you for … the space between arrest and sentencing. The place where life keeps moving but you feel completely stuck. That’s what I call the waiting game.

The night I got arrested was the night before I was supposed to take the ACT.  (I actually studied for this one🥹) That whole week I’d been getting myself in gear, determined to set my life straight, to do something “right.” And instead of taking a step toward college, I got cuffed and thrown into a situation I didn’t even understand the depth of yet.

I remember coming home after I got out, still not realizing the kind of hole I had just dug myself into. I thought maybe I’d bounce back. But slowly, the world started reminding me that I was now labeled.

First were the stares. Then the whispers. And then the comments from people who knew me. One teacher in particular, I’ll never forget. He approached me after noticing I had been skipping class. 

He goes, “Why are you skipping?” and when I just stared at him, he said:
“I know you got arrested.”
Just like that. No empathy. No pause. Just threw it in the air like gossip.

But then he shocked me.

He shared that he had been arrested too. That life wasn’t over unless I decided to give up on it. That moment? It was a turning point. That teacher may not even realize it, but he planted something in me.

I started going to class again. I started moving with purpose again. I started working harder…not just at school, but at life.

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During this time, I also knew I needed legal help. I interviewed with five different law firms. The first four were all recommendations from my dad. But the fifth? That one changed everything.

That’s when I met Mrs. Minerva Casino Blanchette.

She wasn’t just a lawyer. Her entire team felt like the first people in a long time who didn’t look at me like I was broken or a lost cause. I walked into that office scared out of my mind, and I left feeling like I had a chance. Like I wasn’t my worst decision.

If you know this story, you know Tyler. Office Manager at the law firm. He was another rock in that space. They didn’t just represent me. They held me. Emotionally, mentally. I finally felt heard. Something I wasn’t getting at home. Their compassion was constant. Never condescending. And it gave me enough fuel to keep going.

I worked 40+ hours a week in school just to pay for my lawyer. And I did. On my own.

That season of life came with losses, too. I didn’t get a prom. My dad used to joke that my orange jumpsuit was my prom dress. Cute, right? (it was actually blue but not the point.)

But somehow, I still made it to some senior events. I still applied to college. I still got in. I even got accepted into my dream school! Life University’s dietitian program. That moment meant so much to me. I was obsessed with nutrition back then. I had lost weight in high school and became a wellness nut. I fell in love with their campus, their energy, everything.

But I couldn’t go. Not yet. I had to wait.

Wait for my sentencing. Wait for my fate. Wait to find out if I had ruined everything.

Eventually, I was sentenced. I received a conditional discharge ( fancy first offenders for a drug charge) That meant three years of probation, and once it was done, everything would be wiped clean. But what no one told me was that the emotional sentence…that doesn’t just disappear.

I realized about a year in: this isn’t over.

The Waiting Game wasn’t just a legal delay … it was a test of my spirit. A pause between two versions of me: the one the world tried to define, and the one I fought to reclaim.

Because even after the court declared me “redeemable,” the world still treated me like I was convicted. And that’s where the next part of my story begins…
Convicted Without a Sentence.

until next time…

S.D💖