Under observation

I met Brandon at an interesting point in my life. The summer before, I'd spent my time refocusing on my relationship with the Lord, throwing myself into work, and planning a trip with my sister — the kind of summer where you're quietly rebuilding without quite admitting that's what you're doing. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I signed up for a dating site again, with zero expectations. I'd had enough social adventures I'd rather not repeat to know better than to expect anything.

Twenty-four hours later, I connected with Brandon. I didn't know it yet, but that new phase of life I'd decided to launch had actually already begun.

Four months after that, we were engaged. Then came a year and a half of marriage prep — not the kind most couples go through, but the kind that comes with navigating an actual bureaucracy: the requirements, the approvals, the waiting, that come with arranging a marriage through the prison system. And then we were married.

Our wedding day was beautiful in its simplicity — which is exactly what I wanted. I never wanted a big wedding. I've always believed a big wedding tends to focus more on the party than the marriage itself. Wish granted. Ours was the microest of micro weddings: just Brandon, me, my parents, the minister — who happens to be his mother — and about six correctional employees.

Did I feel like a bug under a microscope? Yes. Yes, I did.

But isn't that something we all feel, in one form or another, all the time? The knowledge that we're living our lives — the ones with the people we love — under the ever-present eye of observers. Whether it's to collect data, intelligence, or just to keep watch, none of us are really operating in total privacy. It takes a courageous humility to live that way. And a healthy dose of steely resolve

That resolve doesn't switch off after the wedding. It's the same resolve behind everything we've built since.

For Brandon and me, our days now are filled with a kind of beautiful balance — studying the Bible together, daily prayer, and mapping out B2T in between. The idea for it, in fact, was born at visitation: the gray of that room a stark contrast to the ideas springing up between us.

I remember the first few months of visiting Brandon, before B2T was any kind of idea at all. I'll admit it — I was scared spitless. The idea of going through security, of making sure I didn't accidentally break some rule I didn't even know about, put me in a cold sweat every time. I'd sit huddled on the bench outside, full of questions, with a vivid imagination running through everything that could go wrong.

I still see that same fear in the first-time visitors who join me in line now. My hope for B2T is that it grows into exactly what I needed back then: a resource with real answers to those questions, and a community for everyone else waiting in that same line.

So consider this an open invitation. Follow us on social media — we want to hear from you. Your stories, your experience, your feedback on what you'd like to see B2T become. How can we support you?

We may be under a microscope. But sometimes that microscope can be a powerful tool — one we hope will bring us all together as a united and hopeful community.

- Kay

P.S. Visitation approved wedding photos below!