Holding On to the Dream
Finding meaning after the sentence

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When you come to prison, it’s not just your freedom that’s affected. Often, it’s your ability to imagine a future that feels like your own. So much of daily life becomes about what’s decided for you – what you eat, when you sleep, what you wear. But it goes deeper than that. The space to dream, to choose a path based on who you are and who you want to be, can feel like it disappears.
Many of us had plans once. We had ambitions – maybe to work with young people, run our own business, become a nurse or a tradie. But, after prison, those goals can start to feel far away. There are roadblocks that make it harder: job checks, application knock-backs, limited work options. Sometimes it feels like the world wants to decide what kind of life is “appropriate” for us now. The jobs we are steered toward can feel like they were never really chosen, just what’s left.
This can wear you down. You start to wonder: Is this it? Is this all I’m allowed to aim for now?
It’s easy to feel like you’re stuck treading water – getting by but not really going anywhere. It takes a toll on your spirit. When your future is shaped more by barriers than by choices, it’s hard to feel like you’re truly living.
The weight of judgement, the assumptions people make about you – it can box you in long after the sentence is over.
But here’s the thing: even in the hardest places, dreaming is still possible. Imagination doesn’t have to be a luxury. It can be a tool for survival. A quiet resistance. Even when the world tells us to settle, we can still hold onto the idea that our lives are worth more than just “making do”. We can still imagine and work toward a life with purpose, creativity and connection.
Everyone has the right to dream. To expect. To imagine a version of life where we get to decide who we are – not just live with who we’ve been told we are. That kind of dreaming is powerful. It keeps something alive in us. Something worth fighting for.
We are more than our past. We are not just statistics or sentences. We are people with stories, talents, goals and heart. And, while the road may be harder, we are still allowed to dream big.
Because dreaming isn’t just for the privileged – it’s for all of us.
When you come to prison, it’s not just your freedom that’s affected. Often, it’s your ability to imagine a future that feels like your own. So much of daily life becomes about what’s decided for you – what you eat, when you sleep, what you wear. But it goes deeper than that. The space to dream, to choose a path based on who you are and who you want to be, can feel like it disappears.
Many of us had plans once. We had ambitions – maybe to work with young people, run our own business, become a nurse or a tradie. But, after prison, those goals can start to feel far away. There are roadblocks that make it harder: job checks, application knock-backs, limited work options. Sometimes it feels like the world wants to decide what kind of life is “appropriate” for us now. The jobs we are steered toward can feel like they were never really chosen, just what’s left.
This can wear you down. You start to wonder: Is this it? Is this all I’m allowed to aim for now?
It’s easy to feel like you’re stuck treading water – getting by but not really going anywhere. It takes a toll on your spirit. When your future is shaped more by barriers than by choices, it’s hard to feel like you’re truly living.
The weight of judgement, the assumptions people make about you – it can box you in long after the sentence is over.
But here’s the thing: even in the hardest places, dreaming is still possible. Imagination doesn’t have to be a luxury. It can be a tool for survival. A quiet resistance. Even when the world tells us to settle, we can still hold onto the idea that our lives are worth more than just “making do”. We can still imagine and work toward a life with purpose, creativity and connection.
Everyone has the right to dream. To expect. To imagine a version of life where we get to decide who we are – not just live with who we’ve been told we are. That kind of dreaming is powerful. It keeps something alive in us. Something worth fighting for.
We are more than our past. We are not just statistics or sentences. We are people with stories, talents, goals and heart. And, while the road may be harder, we are still allowed to dream big.
Because dreaming isn’t just for the privileged – it’s for all of us.
Simon Fenech is the General Manager/Director at social enterprise Fruit2Work in Victoria. His transformation from a drug addict, buried deep in Australia’s criminal underworld, to an inspirational figure, intent on changing the lives of others, is remarkable.
What you need to survive in prison is different to what you need on the outside. Many people have said that the first few weeks out were harder than their time inside. Coping with money problems, dealing with other people and feeling like you don’t belong in society can take a toll.
Release can feel like a distant flicker – filled with both hope and uncertainty. But, when the gates open, freedom isn’t just liberating; it can be overwhelming.
All states and territories offer bond loans or other forms of assistance to help cover the cost of a rental bond when you move into a new rental home.
Hello my valued readers! Welcome to another session of Ask Stacey.
Talking about prison once you’re out in the community can be challenging. It’s difficult to know the right thing to say, or how people might react.
You had questions, we listened! These answers are from my life (and are supposed to make you smile a bit!).
You may be following in an age-old tradition of this county by languishing in one of his Majesty’s prisons, but you are not forgotten!