Women in Prison Dating: What Actually Happens Behind the Fence

Women in Prison Dating: What Actually Happens Behind the Fence

It's not like the movies. Honestly, if you’re looking for a plotline from Orange Is the New Black, you’re probably going to be disappointed by the gritty, often mundane reality of women in prison dating. People on the outside have this weird fascination with it. They think it’s all secret notes and dramatic hallway trysts. While some of that exists, the actual landscape of romance behind bars is a complex mix of genuine emotional survival, predatory "trickging," and the digital evolution of pen-pal websites that have turned incarceration into a niche dating market.

Loneliness is the primary currency.

When you’re locked in a room that smells like floor wax and industrial detergent, the human need for connection doesn't just evaporate. It intensifies. For many women, finding a partner—whether that’s another inmate or someone on the outside—is less about "dating" in the traditional sense and more about anchors. You need an anchor so you don't drift away in the monotony.

The Digital Bridge: How Women in Prison Dating Works Today

Most people assume "dating" an inmate means writing letters on lined paper with a golf pencil. That’s old school. Today, the industry is dominated by sites like WriteAPrisoner, Meet-an-Inmate, and LuvALine. These platforms function similarly to a very specialized version of Tinder, though the stakes are significantly higher.

The profiles are often stark. A woman might list her hobbies, her projected release date, and whether she’s looking for "friendship" or "romance." But there is a massive legal and ethical grey area here. Many departments of corrections, like those in Florida or Pennsylvania, have historically tried to ban inmates from soliciting pen pals, citing concerns over fraud. Yet, the sites persist because they are often the only way for incarcerated women to maintain a link to a world that is quickly forgetting them.

It’s expensive.

Let’s talk about JPay and CorrLinks. These aren't dating apps, but they are the conduits for modern women in prison dating. Sending an email costs "stamps." A 30-second videogram can cost a significant chunk of a monthly commissary budget. If you are dating someone on the outside, you aren't just invested emotionally; you are invested financially. The costs of maintaining a relationship from behind bars can drain a family’s resources or lead to inmates engaging in "hustles" inside to afford the digital stamps needed to say "goodnight" to a boyfriend or girlfriend.

🔗 Read more: Why Everyone Is Still Obsessing Over Maybelline SuperStay Skin Tint

Inside Relationships vs. Outside Connections

The dynamics of "gay for the stay" is a term often tossed around by sociologists and former inmates alike. It refers to women who identify as heterosexual on the outside but engage in same-sex relationships while incarcerated. Dr. Angela Browne, a researcher who has spent years looking at women’s experiences in the carceral system, notes that these relationships are frequently built on a "pseudo-family" structure.

In many female facilities, inmates create intricate family trees. You’ll have a "mother," a "sister," and a "partner." It’s a survival mechanism. It provides a protective layer against the violence or exploitation that can occur in maximum-security environments.

However, dating someone on the outside is a different beast entirely. It’s a lifeline to a future. It’s the promise that when the gates open, someone will be there with a car and a clean bed. But the power imbalance is staggering. The person on the outside has all the agency. They can stop putting money on the phone. They can stop answering letters. This creates a desperate atmosphere where the incarcerated woman often feels the need to perform a version of herself that is constantly pleasing, fearful that any conflict will lead to total isolation.

The "Trickging" Phenomenon and Financial Exploitation

We have to be real about the darker side of women in prison dating. There is a subset of the population on the outside—mostly men—who specifically target incarcerated women because of the inherent power dynamic. They like the control. They like knowing exactly where their partner is 24/7.

Conversely, there is "trickging." This is prison slang for manipulating a romantic interest on the outside for commissary money, sneakers, or high-end hygiene products. For some women, dating is a job. It’s how they get their honey buns and their name-brand shampoo.

  • Inmate A might have three different "fiancés" on the outside.
  • Each one thinks they are the only one.
  • Each one sends $50 a week.
  • The money gets pooled for "road-dogs" (close friends) or to pay off debts.

Is it cold? Maybe. But in an environment where you are stripped of your identity and paid 12 cents an hour to mop floors, morality becomes a very flexible concept. Researchers like Dr. Megan Comfort, who wrote Doing Time Together, highlight how the prison system essentially "incorporates" the partners of inmates, turning them into secondary participants in the punishment. They are the ones paying the bills that the state doesn't cover.

💡 You might also like: Coach Bag Animal Print: Why These Wild Patterns Actually Work as Neutrals

Physicality is a luxury. In federal prisons and most state facilities, "contact visits" are strictly regulated. You might get a brief kiss and a hug at the beginning and end of a visit. That’s it. Anything more can result in a "shot" (a disciplinary report), loss of visitation rights, or even a stint in administrative segregation (the SHU).

This lack of touch creates a profound sensory deprivation.

It explains why many women risk everything for a few moments of privacy in a laundry room or behind a stacked gym mat. The desperation for human touch is so high that the threat of solitary confinement isn't always enough of a deterrent.

Then there’s the issue of staff-inmate "dating." Let’s be incredibly clear: legally, an inmate cannot consent to a relationship with a prison guard or staff member. Because of the power hierarchy, the law views these interactions as sexual assault or misconduct, regardless of whether the woman claims it was consensual. High-profile cases, like those coming out of the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women in New Jersey, have shown how these "relationships" are almost always rooted in abuse and the trading of contraband for sexual favors.

The Success Stories (They Do Exist)

It’s not all scams and tragedy. Sometimes, people actually find love. You’ll hear stories of women who met a pen pal, spent five years writing letters, and got married in the prison visiting room wearing a dress made of contraband fabric or a simple state-issued jumpsuit.

These couples often have a stronger foundation than people who meet on Tinder because they’ve had to talk. They’ve had to communicate through words for years before they ever got to spend a night together. They know each other’s trauma, their childhood stories, and their deepest fears because, quite frankly, there wasn't much else to do but write.

📖 Related: Bed and Breakfast Wedding Venues: Why Smaller Might Actually Be Better

Why People on the Outside Do It

You might wonder why a person with a clean record and a steady job would choose women in prison dating. Psychologists point to a few factors. For some, it’s "Hybristophilia," a fascination with people who have committed crimes. For others, it’s a "Savior Complex." They want to be the one who "redeems" the fallen woman.

But for many, it’s simpler. They are lonely, too. The structured nature of a relationship with an inmate—where you know exactly where they are and they are always available to receive your letters—can feel safer than the chaotic, ghosting-filled world of modern dating. It’s a controlled intimacy.

The Harsh Transition: What Happens After Release?

The "happily ever after" is rare. The recidivism rate for women in the United States hovers around 50% within three years of release. When a woman gets out, the "dating" phase ends and the "reality" phase begins.

Suddenly, she has parole meetings. She has to find a job with a felony record. She might have PTSD from her time inside. The partner on the outside, who fell in love with a version of her that existed in a vacuum, often struggles with the real-world version. The transition from "prison wife" to "free woman" is jarring. If the relationship was built on the inmate's total dependence, the partner might actually resent her growing independence.

If you are considering entering the world of women in prison dating, you need to have your eyes wide open. It is a world of extreme highs and devastating lows. You are not just dating a person; you are dating a system.

  1. Verify the story. Use public records to see why they are actually in there. People lie about their "charges" constantly.
  2. Set financial boundaries. Never send more than you can afford to lose. If the relationship becomes a series of requests for money, it's not a relationship; it's a transaction.
  3. Understand the rules. Every facility has different rules for mail, photos, and visits. One wrong move can get your partner in trouble.
  4. Manage expectations. Prison changes people. The person who writes you beautiful poetry from a cell might be a completely different person when they are stressed out at a bus stop in the rain.

The reality of romance behind bars is that it’s a mirror. It reflects the best and worst of human nature—our desperate need to be seen and our capacity to use others to survive. It’s rarely pretty, but it’s always human.

For those looking to understand the system or support a loved one, the next step is looking into the specific Department of Corrections (DOC) regulations for the state in question. Knowledge of the specific mail and visitation policies is the only way to navigate this without getting burned or causing legal trouble for the person on the inside. Focus on building a foundation of transparency and prepare for the reality that the hardest part of the relationship doesn't happen inside the walls—it happens the moment they walk out of them.