Here. Dressing. Gone.
These are the text messages I sent to my trafficker multiple times a day, My prison was hotel rooms, and fear was my constant companion. It’s curious what one thinks of in times like these, and I’m grateful for my ability to imagine myself somewhere else.
Each day my prayer was to survive until the next. I did this by finding tiny beautiful miracles throughout the day. They came in the form of extra-fancy hotel shampoo, the sun warming a window allowing me to feel its bright light, the long-forgotten children’s songs that played through my head, or the Bible verse that I couldn’t quite remember the whole thing, but I did remember the part that says, “I know the plans I have for you.”
I clung to that.
There were so many more and if I made a list of the things I am grateful for during that time, it would be endless. I still focus on finding those tiny miracles today, but I’ve come to realize the biggest one is me. For that, I’m most grateful.