Finding Light in the Darkness: A Survivor's Perspective
Kimberly Mull, MVSM
Building a Better Future for Survivors | Non-Profit Consultant | Survivor & Speaker | Grant Writer | Advocate for Policy Reform & Support Services
I recently shared a blog post about how the anti-trafficking field often fails survivors. Another survivor commented, acknowledging my feelings but sharing how they didn’t feel this failure was as widespread as I suggested. At first, I felt frustrated by their perspective, especially when so many survivors and allies have been speaking out recently about the same issues. But as I reflected on their positivity, it made me think more deeply.
A few weeks ago, I went camping with a friend. As we sat by the fire, the evening chill settled in, and the stars stretched across the West Texas sky like glitter on a canvas. My friend leaned back and pointed upward. “Do you see that star there? That’s the North Star. If you follow that line, it leads you home.” I listened, intrigued by how the stars could guide someone out of the middle of nowhere.
But as I gazed upward, I realized something about myself: I’ve never been someone who relies on the stars to find my way. The stars, while beautiful, illuminate only so much. For me, starting a fire feels more natural, not just for warmth but because fire creates a strong enough light to cut through the darkest night. It shows you not only where you are but also where others might be too. That fire becomes a beacon, a way to help others find their way to you and to safety.
The Duality of Survivor Experiences
The journey survivors of human trafficking endure is much like navigating through darkness. While some survivors can find hope in the small specks of light offered by others to guide them out, some like myself, must light a fire of our own. We are creatures of survival after all. Many of us must find our way while also illuminating the paths of others still trapped. But that process is far from easy, and it’s often complicated by well-meaning but harmful actions from those trying to help.
Survivors experience trafficking in ways that leave profound and lasting scars, not just on the body but on the soul. For many of us, the trauma doesn’t end the moment we leave the life, it shifts, evolves, and often deepens based on the support we do or don’t receive.
When survivors are met with services that are survivor-centered, trauma-informed, and respectful of our autonomy, healing becomes possible. Services like therapy, safe housing, and community support can feel like tools handed to us to stoke our fire, tools that help us believe we can survive, thrive, and eventually help others.
Personally, my fire was stoked by a group of women who called themselves the "BGC" and served as mentors to me when I was younger. They were the first people in my life to not only tell me they believed I was capable of great things, but they expected it. Having that external pressure allowed me to also expect great things from myself for the first time.
But too often, survivors encounter a different reality. Some organizations unintentionally retraumatize survivors by stripping away our autonomy in their efforts to “rescue” or “save” us. Survivors are asked to repeatedly recount their most painful experiences to prove their victimhood, or our voices are overshadowed by others who claim to know what’s best for us. Well-meaning individuals may unintentionally exploit survivors by turning our stories into fundraising tools, failing to recognize that the very act of sharing those stories can reopen deep wounds.
Even worse, some organizations outright re-exploit survivors under the guise of “empowerment.” They may push survivors to advocate before they’re ready or pressure them into sharing their experiences for media campaigns without proper boundaries or support. Even worse when they take our stories without permission.
It only takes one instance of retraumatization to break someone’s trust and make them feel like their healing doesn’t matter. If even one survivor is harmed in this process, that’s one too many. Speaking for myself, I’ve been harmed far more often than I’ve been helped by anti-trafficking advocates, in the long run at least.
Controlled Burns
Not every survivor finds their way out of darkness in the same way. Some look to the stars, seeking the light others offer and following it as a guide. They see and believe in the good in others, even when they are harmed. They’re able to move forward and let go. And that’s beautiful.
But some of us, like me, prefer to build our own fire, because time and again, anti-trafficking allies have proven to me that I can only truly count on one person: myself.
Lighting a fire, for me, isn’t just about survival. It’s about creating a space where others can find warmth and safety. It’s about illuminating the shadows to see who’s still lost, who’s still trapped, and who needs someone to walk with them out of the dark.
That’s why I advocate for survivor-led initiatives. Survivors know what it’s like to be trapped, and we know what it takes to heal. We’ve walked through the fire, and we’ve learned how to build one that doesn’t burn but instead offers light, comfort, and direction.
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And sometimes, survival requires more than a small flame—it requires burning the entire forest down. Controlled burns destroy the dead leaves, debris, and invasive plants that choke growth. They rejuvenate the soil and create space for what does belong to flourish.
A Call to Action
To those who want to help: listen to us. Let survivors lead, and respect the pace of our healing. Ensure your actions empower us rather than exploit us, even unintentionally. A fire burns brightest when it’s fueled by the right elements—kindness, understanding, and respect.
And to my fellow survivors: whether you follow the stars or start your own fire, know that your journey matters. Your light, however it shines, has the power to guide others out of the darkness. Together, we can create a world where no one is left behind.
The stars may show the way, but it’s the fire that ensures no one gets lost. Let’s light it together.
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Our Funding Solutions Team only works with organizations aligned with our mission and values, including trauma-informed and survivor-focused. This ensures we believe in the organizations and projects we seek funding for and bolster the proposals with our unique expertise and insights. As such, we greatly limit the number of retainer and ad hoc clients we contract. You are encouraged to join our waitlist to be notified when an opening becomes available.
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The Mull Report: An Organizational Audit for Non-Profits Working to End Human Trafficking
This comprehensive report, spanning over 150 pages, is not a financial audit. Instead, it represents a survivor-led initiative designed to ensure your organization operates with financial responsibility while prioritizing survivor-focused, trauma-informed practices and adhering to recognized best standards. The report positions your organization to be grant-ready and enhances its competitiveness in an increasingly dynamic field. As part of the package, staff training sessions and a presentation of findings for your Board of Directors are included.
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ARI | Tattoo Education & Restoration| Lived Experience
1 个月Thank you for sharing this! MANY points you brought up, were felt.