I was 9 years old when my older sister Mikelle, 11, was kidnapped in 1999. She is still missing. We were typical sisters—best friends and worst enemies. She was perfect, and while I hated it, I secretly looked up to her. I am now a 34-year-old mother to an amazing 11-year-old boy who is my inspiration in so many ways. I work for the National Criminal Justice Training Center, teaching law enforcement about my experience growing up with a missing sibling. I have anxiety and C-PTSD, and it has taken a lot of work in therapy and throughout my life to get to the place I am at today. I am passionate about advocacy and helping other victims of trauma.
I struggle with dissociating and work on it constantly. I strive to be present, to accept and process all my emotions. Because of this, I choose to live passionately, finding joy and beauty in little everyday things. I enjoy amateur photography, taking food and sky pictures the most. I find peace in hiking, painting, meditating, grounding, writing, and yoga. I also love live music and enjoy concerts, and love blasting music in the car or while cleaning at home. I try to surround myself with people who have beautiful souls. I have a small group of friends who are amazing and important to me. I am close with my family and talk to each of them almost daily, even though we are all in different states. I spend a lot of time with my son and love experiencing life together and watching him grow. We love to play board games and find “fun activities” like mini golf and trampoline parks. He is the most important person in my life, and he challenges me to do better daily. All these things help me feel and live fully.
When I had the unique opportunity to meet and work with the other siblings of missing persons, I was shocked at the outcome everyone else had. In some way, every other person had answers. It was comforting in a sense to know that getting answers is very possible. There was also a bit of sadness and almost jealousy that I have gone 25 years now without answers. I would love to say it gets easier, but in reality, it is just a form of acceptance. It is not easy not knowing what happened. I strive to one day get the answers my family and I desire, and I wholeheartedly believe we will. Waiting is difficult. I strongly suggest acceptance and finding where you want to be in life. They say good things come to those who wait, but that to me does not mean “doing nothing.” Thrive while you wait.
The video will open in a new window so you can keep your place in reading the guide.
Kimber’s Message of Hope
It is important to know that there is hope. Not just hope to get your sibling back, or to have answers, but hope for life. Living with a missing sibling, no matter the situation or outcome, is difficult. Acceptance is key for having hope. Your experience is yours only. You are different from most others. You are even different from those who also have a missing sibling. That is okay. You are allowed to accept, love, and value yourself, and you are allowed to expect that from others. Trauma experiences do not make you less. Different is not bad. After my sister was kidnapped, I decided the only thing that mattered was finding her. That translated in my young brain to “your needs don’t matter” and led me to a lifelong pattern of people pleasing, dissociating, and not feeling deserving or like I mattered. I’ve done a lot of work in therapy to overcome some of these issues, and it is something I must be mindful of daily. Life is still worth living after trauma. There can still be beauty, happiness, thriving, and growing. It is okay to have hope for these things. Your sibling wants that for you. I want that for you because I know this type of trauma leaves a mark. I have learned that I want to take that and make it something beautiful, and to me there is nothing more beautiful than helping others in a unique way that not everyone can. Remember that hope can mean many things, and that you are capable and allowed to have it.