The Many Lives of Mama Love: A Memoir of Lying, Stealing, Writing, and Healing

“As a kid, spontaneous combustion didn’t scare me—I was fascinated by the possibility. It gave me hope.”

Hardin characterizes her childhood as one of trauma, abuse, and neglect. Two of her siblings died young, her mother was absent, and her father left. Hardin found solace in reading and soon encountered the concept of spontaneous combustion, which felt like a way out.

“At its core, addiction is an extreme form of self-obsession. We addicts are pathologically self-absorbed, self-serving, selfish and all the other self- words.”

Hardin’s memoir does not shy away from showing her selfish behavior and ideas while struggling with her addiction. Concern for others often transforms into concern for herself, and she co-opts a large amount of others’ time and energy. As she gains control over her addiction, she gains humility and the ability to put others’ needs first, which is part of her nature as a loving mother and compassionate person.

“These are the lost girls, the forgotten girls, the girls whose faces wear scars because they picked at them while staying awake for days with their meth dealer boyfriends, their ride-or-die men, who forget them the minute they get locked up, the minute they go down for crimes that aren’t their own.”

In G Block, Hardin refers to the female inmates, who are all over age 18, as girls who are victims of an unjust system and unreliable partners. Her intention is to create empathy for them and focus on their vulnerability early in life; that is, they were lost, forgotten girls before they grew up and became incarcerated.

“I can’t stop hurting myself even when I know it’s hurting my boys.”

Hardin admits this as she struggles with sobriety and relapse, showing that she is powerless against her addiction. Throughout the memoir, Hardin gains the strength to make better choices and put others first.

“The truth is simple: Getting high feels better than not getting high. And until that changes, no addict will change.”

Hardin attempts to explain the dynamics of addiction several times in the memoir. In these moments, she is speaking to readers who do not have personal experience with addiction. At times, she uses figurative language, and others, as here, she uses plain, unadorned statements to convey the strong pull of getting high.

“I realize in this moment that I am a better mom in jail than I have ever been outside jail.”

Once released from jail, Hardin immediately goes back to using heroin. This is a betrayal of everything she’s professed to want and love and be working toward. In jail, she was forced to stay clean. Understanding that she is helpless and that she needs an extreme environment to change turns Hardin’s life around.

“The drugs I took to avoid pain kept me from the one thing that helped me cope with pain.”

When Hardin begins to write again, she realizes that the high she gets from writing is greater than from her other addictions. This moment of transformation, of self-awareness and actualization, is the turning point in Hardin’s life.

“Alone on the outside makes together on the inside feel safer.”

Once Hardin is released from prison after serving her sentence, she participates in a complicated reentry program with overlapping deadlines and complicated procedures. Alone, she feels unsure that she can comply. On the inside, she was Mama Love, someone with power, status, and friends. On the outside, she lives in a run-down motel, does landscaping under the hot son, and rides the bus to Narcotics Anonymous. The loss of power and support threatens to turn Hardin back to drugs.

“It’s like I’m running an obstacle course designed by a sadist while carrying a five year old on my back.”

Once released, Hardin finds managing the reentry and relapse prevention programs, the court-mandated therapy, and the Child Protective Services program difficult to achieve. She notes the likelihood of recidivism for people in such programs, given the many opportunities she has to fail to meet the complex requirements.

“The system is illogical in its design, broken in its execution and guaranteed to fail those it allegedly serves.”

Hardin moves through the system with difficulty, but she enjoys privileges that other former inmates do not. Since this is the case, her success in these programs is the exception rather than the rule. Hardin’s journey shows that she is saved from many of the justice system’s inequalities, and readers can infer that had she lacked her racial and class privileges, her attempts at reentry and recovery could have gone much differently.

“My boss knows, but Archbishop Tutu doesn’t know. But he’s an expert on forgiveness so I think he would be okay with it.”

Once out of prison, Hardin is hesitant to tell others her story. She is surprised when her boss does not fire her after finding out about her past, but she is still not ready to be open about it to others. Her remarkable encounters with spiritual leaders give her an opportunity to confess in a safe, accepting environment.

“I tell them that Archbishop Tutu says that telling the truth, witnessing the harm you’ve caused, and asking for forgiveness, even if it’s not given, is the path to freedom.”

Hardin teaches a class on forgiveness at Gemma to inmates in the prison from which she was released. The class has the goal of testing the theories in the draft of Tutu’s co-authored book and helping those in prison find forgiveness in their own lives. At this point in the narrative, Hardin knows she is not strong enough to do what she is asking of these women, and later, she accepts that her victims will likely not forgive her.

“I teach them what I’m not brave enough to do myself. Even out of the system, it’s hard not to stew in the juices of punishment and feel like it’s where I belong.”

Hardin’s difficulty with self-acceptance holds her back from believing she deserves forgiveness. Dwelling on her guilt helps her feel like she is constantly serving out her punishment, even when she is out of prison, because she can never atone for her wrongdoing. When she lets go of this desire, she begins to help others by sharing her story.

“I don’t have to check in with probation anymore; I just file a monthly report online. So I’d almost forgotten that I can still be sent back to jail for anything at any time.”

The fact that Hardin can be incarcerated again for a minor offense is never far from her consciousness. This leads her to feel unfree and contributes to her belief that she can never escape her past. Despite the severity of her crimes, she feels this condition is unfair.

“I have begun a marriage with laughter, and I take this as a good omen.”

Sam and Hardin elope and honeymoon in Vegas, and Hardin laughs because it is her first marriage when she is not pregnant. Hardin realizes she has entered a new phase in her life, one in which she is choosing rather than reacting. She feels safe, seen, and accepted in her marriage to Sam.

“I look like the shiny, happy person I have always wanted to be. Only this time I’m not pretending. The joy on my face is real.”

In India, Hardin spends time with Archbishop Tutu and the Dalai Lama and finds that their peace and joy spread easily to her. She has helped write Tutu’s book on forgiveness and will now help with their book on joy. This process helps her spread joy in others’ lives.

“I still spend the rest of the week convinced that the most compassionate man in the world doesn’t like me, because he never singles me out for attention like he does other members of the crew.”

Reflecting her pattern of self-obsession, Hardin believes that the Dalai Lama is ignoring her, even as he engages with a large film crew in the middle of a complicated and important filming with Archbishop Tutu. Later, he does give her personal attention and she feels better, but for now, she remains stuck in her insecurities and need for validation.

“Standing between these two spiritual leaders, it suddenly doesn’t matter what people think of me.”

Once she gets attention from both leaders at once, she feels validated and whole. She tells the leaders they have changed her life, and once she returns to California, her life does change. She begins to feel that the validation of people like Oprah, the Dalai Lama, and Archbishop Tutu means the validation of strangers is likely, too.

“Disgrace, embitterment, resentment and demoralization is just another Monday in the world of probation.”

Probation hangs over Hardin years after her release because she has not paid court-mandated restitution for her thefts. She feels that this is unfair, that DJ did not pay his portion, and that the amount was inflated by her victims. Further, she claims that the victims inflated their pain and suffering, calling them thieves for their restitution demands. While Hardin has a good salary, is made co-CEO of the literary agency, and purchases a home on several acres of land, she does not pay back her victims, instead opting to destroy her credit rather than stay under probation.

“With every new book I write I get to be a different person, live a different life.”

The title of the memoir comes into focus most clearly in this quote, where Hardin, a ghostwriter for a literary agency, uses the skills she gained in prison writing letters and petitions for inmates to become the people she ghostwrites for. Hardin had many lives prior to landing in prison, and after being released, she finds fulfillment in the many lives she assumes as a writer.

“I forgive because I’m not giving the State of Alabama one more second of my life.”

Ray Hinton explains to Hardin that for him, forgiveness means reclaiming his life and his time from the state that took 30 years from him. This offers Hardin a new perspective on the meaning and benefits of forgiveness and makes her reflect on her own situation.

“I stare at her in real life and feel vindicated, because in my mind anything Oprah approves of the culture approves of. And Oprah approves of me.”

Hardin has long been overcompensating to prove that she has worth and that she deserves to be in the position of power she has gained at the literary agency after many years of hard work. When Oprah gives her the approval she’s long sought from society, she finds solace and peace in the umbrella effect it provides.

“Ray was once a condemned man on death row, and I was once in jail with a sheet wrapped around my neck. Now we are both number one bestsellers.”

This quote depicts a moment of success when her co-written book with Ray reaches the bestseller list the morning after Oprah’s endorsement. Between Oprah’s validation and the validation of strangers, Hardin begins to believe that she belongs where she has long been accepted. She doesn’t dwell on the disparity between her situation and Hinton’s; rather, she focuses on the experiences they share.