How to support someone leaving prison

The first weeks out can be loud and quiet at once. Loud in the ordinary places: the bus, the supermarket, a phone with too many choices on it. Quiet in the flat at ten in the morning, with nobody saying where to be. Many people say the first days are more tiring than they expected. Your friend might sleep a lot, or barely at all.

There is also the admin of ordinary life. Appointments, paperwork, a call about housing, a form with a box about a criminal record. That side is for a qualified professional to explain, and your part is not to solve it but to be the person sitting nearby while it happens, or helping them get there on time.

Underneath it, people often carry shame and a feeling of being watched, even when nobody is watching. Home has carried on without them and they may not know where they fit in it now. Some feel they should be grateful and busy and fine, then feel worse when they are not. You might hear them say they feel like a visitor in their own life.

Parole or probation can feel like being managed by someone else's calendar. It is normal for them to be tired of being asked how things are going by people with a form to fill in. Your company can be the one place with no form.

Short and warm works better than wise. “I'm glad you're here.” Then a question about today, not about the past: “What are you doing this afternoon?” or “Do you want company or quiet for a bit?” Low-stakes questions give them something easy to answer.

Give them a way out of the interview. “You don't have to talk about any of it with me. If you ever want to, I'm around.” That one sentence does a lot, because it takes the pressure off both of you.

Ask about small real things. Whether they ate. Whether the room is warm. Whether they need anything from the shop. When they say something heavy, don't rush to fix it. “That sounds hard. I'm here.” Repeating their words back shows you heard them.

Be plain about your own side too. “I've been thinking about you. I didn't know whether to call.” Honest and low-pressure beats a cheerful performance. If they go quiet, you can say “No rush. I'll text next week.”

Leave out “you're lucky” and “at least you're out”. Also skip “just put it behind you”, “it's in the past” and “everything happens for a reason”. They may want to, and can't yet. Those lines close the conversation instead of opening it.

Don't lead with “what was it like inside?” If they bring it up, follow them. Don't ask “so what's the plan now?” in the first week either, or say “you've changed” as an accusation. Change is likely, and it isn't a criticism.

Don't promise what you can't deliver. “Stay as long as you like” is a problem if it isn't true. Don't compare them to someone else who sorted themselves out, and don't use them as an example of anything.

Avoid turning support into a project, with a plan and targets and progress reports. And don't pass their news on to other people, even kindly. Let them decide who knows what, and when.

Offer specific help with a day and a time attached. “I can pick you up Thursday at ten.” “I'll bring dinner on Sunday.” “I'll sit with you while you make that call.” Specific beats “let me know if you need anything”, which puts the work back on them.

Think small and ordinary. A lift, a spare phone, warm clothes, a cooked meal, someone in the waiting room with them. A walk at the same time each week. Company on the first trip to a busy shop. These things cost little and take away a whole afternoon of dread.

Peer support can help with the part friends and family can't fill. SupportMeet is a free peer-support network where people write what they are going through and join circles of people living the same situation. The Life after prison circle is where people chat, check in, ask for support and share notes of hope. It runs in Spanish and Portuguese, with weekly online gatherings, and local circles are opt-in and open once five people nearby join. You can also find charities, community groups, professionals and services listed there.

Introduce it slowly rather than signing them up. “There's a circle of people in the same spot, if you want the name of it.” Then leave it. This week, aim for one outing, one meal together and one phone call. That is enough.

You will have your own feelings about all this. Relief, anger, tiredness, old resentments that didn't go away while they were inside. Those are allowed, and you don't have to hide them from yourself to be a good friend.

Other people will have opinions. “You're too soft.” “You shouldn't be helping.” You don't have to argue or explain. “I've decided what I can do, and this is it” is a full answer.

Be honest about the size of help you can actually give. “I can do Saturdays, not weeknights.” A clear no once is kinder than agreeing and then resenting it. If you are asked for something you can't do, say so early and offer the smaller thing you can.

Keep your own routines and your own people. If it starts to sit heavy, a qualified professional is the right person to talk to about your own strain. And if there are times they need more than you can give, that is not a failure on your part.