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dearryker-loves · 2 years

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Until We Are All Free

T.W: Child Sexual Abuse

He took my innocence,

All my hopes, my dreams, my youth.

He took my very soul.

What could have been,

I will never know.

But it wasn’t just my childhood that he stole,

It was all the other kid’s too.

Their scared faces each forever burned into my mind.

I remember what he did to them...

To me...

To us.

Even to his own kids.

I was just barely five years old

When he took interest in

The little hazel eyed blonde haired kid

In the compound next door.

I’ve noticed a phrase that people like to say

About kids who go through shit...

They like to say

“Kids are resilient”

But what I’ve learned is that

We are only “resilient”

Because our tiny brains cannot yet

Comprehend our own lived experiences,

Our resiliency always runs out

The moment are minds mature enough

That we finally gain access

To the words we needed to describe our pain,

And we feel safe enough to express the trauma

Our weary bodies have been bearing all this time.

You see,

We aren’t always taught this but

Our bodies hold every ounce of pain

We have ever had to endure.

That is until some of us are

Granted the privilege of acknowledging we even have trauma...

And then,

If we are lucky...

We receive the great privilege of

Actively being able to seek out and maintain

Professional outlets of healing.

But not everyone has these privileges.

Oppression is a real raging bitch and

When your suffering from within it

It’s almost impossible to escape.

You’re just forever stuck

In a system that is only aimed to keep

You from living, learning, growing, thriving,

And succeeding in this world.

So when I remember how

My innocents was taken by him,

I’m struck with immense survivors guilt

Because even though

No one knew about what was happening to me

For four and a half years...

I eventually got out.

I got out.

I was the only privileged one to escape

The system of oppression that

I only knew and could relate to from a

Tiny white missionary kid’s view point.

Now when I close my eyes

I see a surge of little Black and Brown faces.

So beautiful in nature

Yet,

So hopeless, beaten and battered.

Some of these kids

Were my friends.

Everyday,

We would play together

Outside the compound

After school

Until the sun was just about to go down.

Their faces edged into my memory.

I remember the fun we had and the smiles we shared.

I remember the sounds of our collective laughter

And the joy we found in each other.

But

I also remember seeing and recognizing

The joint fear on our faces

As He led us into his compound,

Then into his house ,

And then his bedroom.

I remember their desperate cries.

Cries

That no one heard.

I remember the

Deep bruises, cuts, and sores on the bodies of the children

That left that dreaded room.

Kids with excruciating wounds

Sometimes invisible

Unless you’re trained to see the clues.

The haunting red flags.

Yet I was the one

That got out.

While they all stayed

And their painful stories continued.

I think a lot

About what if I could go back and change things...

If I could have spoken up and reached out for help.

If I could have only just told my parents.

I know without a doubt

That my parents would have gotten me out of

That situation

So fucking fast.

They would have raged and aggressively advocated for me

And would have seen to it that He be dealt with.

I would have gotten help sooner.

But then I think to myself about

Who would have advocated for

All those other kids in the village..

In the surrounding villages...

In the town..

In the country...

All over the continent...

All over this world...

Who have a

“Him”

Who has stolen their autonomy

And shattered their story.

Who would have gotten them

All the help they so desperately needed

In order to heal their

Hearts, minds, bodies and souls??

Who would grant them that privilege?

The only way I would change anything about

Those dark years...

Is to somehow fiercely eradicate the systems of oppression

That enable evil men to gain the power

They use to suppress the rest of us.

To eradicate the patriarchy that

Encourages men to think they

Can get away with mortally wounding

Women, Transgender, Nonbinary people, Other LGBTQ people,

And children.

To eradicate white supremacy and the effects of colonialism

That have plagued and devastated

The lives of People of Color

Since the beginning of time.

To eradicate the systems of power

That side with, shelter and protect

The abuser and

Not the victim and survivor.

To eradicate and remove the barriers

That keep God’s children

From succeeding and thriving

In this world they placed them in.

Those kids deserve to get out

Just like I did.

Those kids deserved a story that didn’t

Involve an evil man obsessed with

The power granted to him by

His ability to silence those around him

And strike fear into the hearts of the community.

A community that frightfully elevated his stance

Based on his

Financial status , level of education and

His arrogant persona.

Those kids deserve a better story than they one

They unfortunately were placed into.

So even though I was privileged to escaped,

And receive professional help

That is allowing parts of me to heal...

Resiliency comes with a heavy cost.

I will never be truly free

Until the day that

All the people with stories like us

Are finally set free.

#UntilWeAreAllSetFree #childsexualabusesurvivor #sexualassault #systemsofoppression #bodily autonomy #prochoice #abortions are healthcare #hopeandhealing #privilege #white privelage #christian privilege #missionarykid #thirdculturekid

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racheljacksonmusic-blog · 5 years

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Gavin is home from Panama and of course he’s got to camp out like he’s still on a journey In a foreign land! Lol But on top of the bed! 😂 This might be Jovies doing too, I don’t know, so funny though. #missionarykid #panama #camping #home https://www.instagram.com/p/BzXAZGOHSa2/?igshid=17g9dahgmrbmw

#missionarykid #panama #camping #home

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seansanborn · 4 years

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Thank you @arynthelibraryan for posting your review of Book 1 of the Naga Trilogy! . . How do you thank readers for sharing honest feedback? . . . #christianbookstagrammer #booksforteens #christianteens #christiantweens #bookadvertisement #sanbornadventure #bookwriting #yabook #yanovel #christianbook #missionarybook #missionarystories #dragonbook #nagatrilogy #thenagatrilogy #seansanborn #missionarykidchronicles #missionarykids #seansanborn #seansanbornauthor #authorseansanborn https://www.instagram.com/p/CAQEjEfgMWO/?igshid=1g7szip8rbaut

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rj-anderson · 4 years

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Working our way through #mybookalphabet, here we are at T is for Timothy! . Timothy Sinclair is the 15-year-old human protagonist of REBEL, the second book in my #noordinaryfairytale aka #faeryrebels trilogy. Born and raised in Uganda as the child of missionary parents, Timothy’s been feeling like a fish out of water at his English boarding school even before the book begins. But when he runs away to London and stumbles into the middle of a dangerous faery conflict, his life gets even more complicated… . When I first wrote REBEL there were a slew of YA urban fantasy novels featuring teen boy characters who exuded confidence, mystery and sex appeal, which made it hard for some of my readers to warm to Timothy being an ordinary, confused and somewhat awkward teenaged boy. He’s a bit emo (which his cousin Paul dryly teases him about in one of my favorite scenes) and also struggling with a crisis of faith, so he’s not always as winsome as he could be. But I love Timothy a lot, and really enjoyed writing him — especially in Arrow, where we get to see more of his bravery, compassion, and mischievous sense of humour, among other qualities that make at least one faery girl’s heart flutter (even after he nearly spills orange juice on her!). . Timothy’s experiences of growing up in Uganda, and his culture shock after moving to the UK, were inspired by my own family. My parents were missionaries in Kampala from 1967-70, and my three older brothers have vivid memories of their childhood there, as well as their struggles to adjust when our family moved back to Canada. Tim’s crisis of faith, however, was inspired by my own experiences of questioning and doubt as a teenager and finding my faith ultimately strengthened, rather than demolished, by being put to the test. I wasn’t seeing that possibility acknowledged in other YA fiction, so I tried my best to do it some justice in REBEL. . . . #fairies #fairy #fantasy #fae #fairytale #faery #fairybooks #faeriesofinstagram #magical #enclaveescape #enclavepublishing #yabooks #IReadYA #yareads #speculativefiction #christianfantasy #rebel #rebelbook #timothy #missionarykid #missionarykids #thirdculturekid #thirdculturekids https://www.instagram.com/p/B-fbl6GAASg/?igshid=u19pd7y180q2

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unforcedrhythms52-blog · 6 years

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Second blog post - check it out! Starting to get my story out there. Never thought I’d blog but it’s proving to be therapeutic. If you come away from reading this knowing you’re not alone, I will be happy.

#spiritual spiritualgrowth #emotional wellbeing #mk #missionarykid #wholeness #journey #lifestory #heartbreak #when the romance ends #breakup

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cimafam · 5 years

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Bella was a brave, brave girl this Sunday after church. She ate a stinking big cricket! Dad only had to bribe her with $1. #MissionaryKid

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minhavidabrasileiramichele-blog · 6 years

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When your parents are at Bible Study..... #missionarykids Quando seus pais estão no estudo Bíblico......#missionarykids

#missionarykids

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dearryker-loves · 2 years

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Midnight Watch T.W. Trauma, Sexual Assault, Rape, Night Terrors

You found me.

You found me thousands of miles away

From where we first met.

From where you first took my hand and walked me into your compound.

From where you sat my innocent child body on your lap and told me

I could trust you.

You had been watching me.

You knew where I lived.

You knew who all my friends were.

You knew my brother’s football schedule.

You knew where my mom worked.

You knew my dad was going to dinner with his twin.

You knew where my youngest brother went after school.

You knew my little sister would be at a sleepover that night.

You knew all of this,

Which is how you knew,

I would be alone at the house that night.

That’s how you knew we kept the spare key

Under the fourth brick in the flower bed.

That’s how you opened the door and walked

Right in.

You walked right over to where I had fallen asleep on the couch.

And you watched me some more.

Just hovering over my unconscious body

Like a vulture

Overlooking it’s next meal.

Sensing a presence,

I opened my eyes.

And you forced the rag over my nose and mouth

So my body went limp

Before I could even

Recognize your

Smiling face.

Everything went completely dark.

As I began to come too

My ears were ringing,

Everything was so blurry.

In a haze I could make out my ceiling fan

Moving in an up and down motion that I didn’t understand.

Suddenly I realized what was happening to me

Nothing felt real.

My words were getting lost in the

onslaught of tears choking my throat

And the screams that were trying to

Escape my heaving lungs.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t tell where my legs...

Or my arms...

My hands...

My stomach...

Or my feet were.

I could hear my heart beating

So fast and so loud

I thought I was going to explode.

But nothing felt mine.

My body did not belong to me.

My body was another’s piece of property.

The only thing I could feel was

The forceful pressure of a body so foreign

But almost recognizable

Yet wasn’t mine.

I was petrified and paralyzed.

All I could do was clinch my eyes shut

As I frightfully prayed for it to be over.

I begged and begged and begged

For it all to stop.

I pleaded for any kind of feeling to come back so

I could fight him off.

I desperately cried out for someone to walk through

The front door and save me.

But no one came.

I was alone.

The pressure kept getting heavier and heavier,

Shifting back and fourth on the floor in a consistent motion

That filled my body with immense feelings of

Conflicting pleasure

That shattered my sense of self.

I thought it would never end.

But just as it started...

You slapped me and grabbed my jaw

And you forced me to look the devil in his haunting yellow eyes

As you told me

You’d be back for more.

And if I told anyone what happened...

As you pulled you pants up and fondled with the notches on your belt...

You reminded me that you knew everything about

Me and everyone I loved.

You grinned,

Showing off your filed down teeth

That had been carved into serrated edges.

You called me

“A good girl”.

You started towards the front door then you

Looked back at me and

In a voice

That made my spine you said

“Goodnight”.

Then you casually walked out and gently closed the door.

And just like that

I opened my eyes and

I woke up....

Safely in my bed.

#night terrors #nightmare #insominac #dissociativenightmares #childsexualabuse #rapesurvivor #sexualassault #missionarykid #trauma #childhood truama

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lifeofamk-blog · 6 years

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there is no dull salvation!

When Danny (my youth pastor) asked us to write out our testimony's I thought, but I've always been a christian, my christian testimony, the story of how I came to faith, is really just boring. But you know what, there is no dull salvation. The Son of God died on the cross for all of our sins. In everybody testimonies, it is not the outward circumstances that are amazing. It's the grace. For the grace of God has been revealed, bringing salvation to all his people. Titus 2:11

#christianity #mk #pk #pastorskid #missionarykid #testimony #titus 2:11

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first-earth-battalion · 3 years

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@maf_us pilot #maf making an approach of Dahamo #airstrip in a #cessna #papuanewguinea #tck #mk #missionarykid (hier: Papua New Guinea) https://www.instagram.com/p/CLeXR4PlJLv/?igshid=1m7k9n3sdq9g7

#maf #airstrip #cessna #papuanewguinea #tck #mk #missionarykid

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ameskk-blog · 6 years

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✝️ #throwback #thursday #yourewelcome . . . . . . #christian #jesusfreak #dctalk #seal #music #90s #2000s #preacher #preacherskid #missionarykids #church #music #wwjdchurch #tbt (at Mateo Sound)

#thursday #preacher #preacherskid #church #dctalk #throwback #christian #seal #yourewelcome #2000s #missionarykids #tbt #music #jesusfreak #wwjdchurch #90s

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seansanborn · 3 years

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For Halloween we dressed up and went between the three homes in our community. The kids had no interest in driving to a trunk-or-treat-drive-through. So, we played Dixit with my brother and his family. It was fun to whip together costumes anyway. Dr. Who, a Vulcan, a Creeper. and Luna Lovegood. #halloweenfamily #halloweenfamilycostume #halloweenfamilyfun #halloweenfamilytime #halloweenfamilynight #halloweenhumor #halloweenhumor🎃 #halloweenhumor🎃👻 #dragonbook #nagatrilogy #thenagatrilogy #seansanborn #missionarykidchronicles #missionarykids #seansanborn #seansanbornauthor #authorseansanborn (at Ridge Manor, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CHDI9W1g30N/?igshid=18zmg5mb7okdc

#halloweenfamily #halloweenfamilycostume #halloweenfamilyfun #halloweenfamilytime #halloweenfamilynight #halloweenhumor #halloweenhumor🎃#halloweenhumor🎃👻#dragonbook #nagatrilogy #thenagatrilogy #seansanborn #missionarykidchronicles #missionarykids #seansanbornauthor #authorseansanborn

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unforcedrhythms52-blog · 6 years

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Wrapping up this series of blog posts soon. Shout out to all my MK friends and comrades out there! If you were left confused, concerned, and unsure what some people are doing on the field, including yourself...well, I can relate.

#mk #missionarykid #spiritualgrowth #emotional well-being #unforcedrhythms #agirlandherblog #personalblog #mylife #mystory #youarenotalone

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