mischief-managed-18

[mischief-managed-18]

there is an insane amount of antisemitism floating around right now.

i just want to say:

this blog loves and supports jewish people.

this blog does NOT conflate the israeli government, or the atrocities it commits, with jewish people.

this blog is disgusted with those who use or express antisemitism.

this blog knows that if someone needs to invoke antisemitism, they do not actually care about helping palestine or the palestinian people.

this blog will do its best to ensure that it remains a safe space for all.

[mischief-managed-18]

[mischief-managed-18]

It's been almost 2 years since writing this. I decided the other day it was time to rewrite this with a perspective that's been outside of the cult I was raised in, for several years now. So. Here's the updated version:

I’m Praying for You

By D.L

When I walked away from you,

it hurt—

a holy kind of hurt,

like peeling scripture from skin,

like breathing without the Holy Ghost in my lungs.

For so long,

you weren’t just part of me—

you were me.

I grew up in your pews,

knees pressed into splinters,

singing revival songs with a trembling voice,

dressed in skirts that scraped my ankles,

as if fabric could keep me clean.

I followed your rules.

I obeyed your standards.

I twisted myself into the shape of your approval.

No pants.

No makeup.

No questions.

Only modesty and silence,

submission and shame.

They told me you’d never hurt me.

That your fire was love.

That my mind was a trapdoor,

and thinking too much

was how the Devil would get in.

They said college would make me question you,

and questioning you

was the beginning of my fall.

Even now,

I wake up sweating,

heart racing at the memory of altar calls,

where hands pressed into my forehead

and I was told the tears meant God was working.

You called it surrender.

But it was fear.

You called it brokenness.

But it was control.

You loved to watch me fall apart

because my tears proved you were right.

But you never helped me heal.

You said wholeness came through obedience—

but all obedience gave me

was silence over scars,

infection beneath a pretty dress.

Some will read this

and think I’m mourning a person.

And maybe I am.

But you were never flesh and blood.

You are a movement.

A doctrine.

A holy chain of command

masquerading as love.

You are Sunday night services

that bled into Monday morning.

You are tongues without interpretation.

You are the warning in every sermon:

Don’t walk away, or hell waits.

And I can’t say your name.

Not yet.

Not with safety.

But I know you.

Oh, I know you.

Leaving you

was the hardest decision I’ve ever made—

and somehow

the easiest.

I’m still healing.

Still learning how to exist

outside your gaze.

Still reclaiming a voice

you tried to drown in praise music.

But it gets easier.

God, it gets easier.

One day,

I’ll live in a body you never touched.

Speak in a voice you never rewrote.

Stand in a faith

you never manipulated.

And until then,

let me leave you

with your favorite words—

spoken from a place

you never taught me to reach:

“I’m praying for you.”

Religious trauma poem

When I walked away from you it hurt.

For so long you had been my identity.

I lived my life according to your wishes and your standard and your plans.

I wore the clothes you said I could wear and tried not to do what you said I couldn't.

None of it made sense but you were all I knew.

I was told you'd never hurt me.

Told you knew what was best for me.

Told not to think for myself.

Told not to become "too educated" for you.

Told if I went to a college that didn't follow your guidelines that I would question you and that that would be wrong.

I still wake up in cold sweat sometimes thinking of things you've told me.

I have to remind myself nearly weekly that you're nothing but fear tactics wrapped up in a pretty package.

Fear mongering is your favorite pastime.

You love to see me cry after a talk because that means I'm "truly surrendered", "truly broken", "truly changed".

You like to focus on things like that.

You like to focus on people being broke but you don't try to put them back together.

You say as long as your rules are followed brokenness will be healed but all it does is cover it up and let it fester.

Some people may read this poem as an abusive relationship and that's exactly what we had.

Only you're not a person.

You're a movement.

You're a way of life.

You're something I can't name simply for my own protection right now.

Leaving you was the hardest decision I've ever made and yet also the easiest.

I'm still healing from the beating you gave me every day.

But it gets easier.

One day I'll look back on you and you won't have any influence on me anymore.

One day I'll look back and I'll have a body you won't have ever known.

Until then, allow me to use your favorite words, "I'm praying for you..."

[mischief-managed-18]

Reblog if you're willing to answer publicly anything that comes to your ask box right now.

[mischief-managed-18]

SHOOTING CIVILLIANS POINT BLANK. SHE WAS TRYING TO GET HOME AND THEY SHOT HER FOR NO REASON. GET THIS FOOTAGE OUT!

[mischief-managed-18]

I'm so tired of parents who didn't mean to

[mischief-managed-18]

Here in Gaza, we experience real death every day, whether through bombing or starvation. Children seek their daily food by dying. We need to protect our children and families. We need food and drink. We need money. Help my family meet their needs. 🙏💔

I am Nazmi, a displaced person from Gaza. I am living through a very difficult war. We live in tents without food, drink, or nutrition for the children who have been suffering from dehydration in this siege for more than 19 months. I cannot buy what is available because its price has risen dramatically. 😥 I need your help so that we can live, just me and my children. 🙏

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #380 )✅️💔

@awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @-time-bandit- @spongebobssquarepants @danielhowell @just-shower-thoughts @equipebrasil @fuckyeahtattoos @fuckyeahtattoos @just-shower-thoughts @justgirlythings @jacksonharries @instagram @iglovequotes @justgirlythings @radical-illusion @breathtakinglandscapes @blackfashion @eggplant-crusader @qraciusly @qracious @qreek @itsagifnotagif @whitewhine-blog @fhlorism @fhlur @garden-of-vegan @jdsugar @usnatarchives @gwinettcountysmash @udayah-blog1 @humansofnewyork @thepersonalquotes @rvengebullet @rfjantanstr8studio-blog

[mischief-managed-18]

For those who care about us , please dont ignore☹️

Please help provide food for me and my family. Every donation from you will save me, my family, and the children.

We are dying of hunger, and we are dying from fear and the bombing. Please, help us."

After once enjoying the finest kinds of food and eating whatever we wished, today we've reached a point where we can't even find a bite to eat. We are starving.

We go to bed hungry and wake up still hungry. There is no food.

Even when we try to cook something—if we can find something to cook—we suffer just to light a fire. The fire itself is a struggle: the smoke, the heat, the danger, the damage it does to our eyes and our health. How long will this go on? Please, we are desperate. We just want something to eat.

Please, help us. We need food. We are beginning you

@irhabiya @bilal-salah0 @gaza-evacuation-funds @gazavetters

[mischief-managed-18]

Don't forget us please🇵🇸❤️ Don't forget Palestinians' life🥺🍉

They are slaughtering us for more than two years as if we are animals. Where are human rights‼️‼️‼️ I need to raise my voice to people of humanity.

Breaking News ‼️‼️

6/5/2025 6:48Am in Gaza.

Israel will take the rest of Gaza and we don't know where to go next.  Also hunger is surrounding me and my family from everywhere. We are so hungry. One bag of flour reach 600$. So please do your best to save my family and help us 🙏🙏‼️‼️💔💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #515) ✅️

My full story 🙏💔

I'm Areej I was an English teacher and a creative writer at we are not numbers before war and everything change after October 7. Also I'm a creative writer at we are not numbers.

Dear my kind donors!

I am a mother of three children. We have lived through the war for a year and a half, and we have lost everything we own. My husband is a man who did not work. Before the war, I did not have a breadwinner or any source of income. During the war I didn't give up to teach so I volunteered and had good chance to help some students to get engaged again with English in a very creative way.

Please Save those innocent kids from war 🥺‼️🙏🙏

We are in tents for almost two years because our home was destroyed and my kids are starving now with no enough food  😭‼️🥺After our several evacuation from place to another.Now we don't have a house after it was destroyed by missiles. I now ask you to help me rebuild my house. And buy basics for the daily essentials for my children and I need money so that we can stand up again and start again.

This war wasn't easy at all it has taken many friends at work, students and some of my colleagues at the university. They are almost ten souls I won't never forget . Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.

My lovely students before war 🥺

My lovely home 💔💔‼️

Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:

🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.

😢 Loss: The absence of my students and my friends is really hurts.

💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.

Note to mention the other very expensive essential goods. I hope you will stand by me to get food

The crossings boarders are closed again these days and war return in Gaza.  The crossing through which food enters has been closed for more than 30 days. We have nothing to eat, and even if we do, the prices are exorbitant. Some of the prices listed are:

1 kg of meat = $100 now there is no meat

1 chicken = 70$ there is no chicken

1 kg of fish = 100$ now it costs 200$

1 bag of flour = $200 now it costs 600$

1 kg of cooking gas = $150 now it costs 1000$

1 kg of sugar = $50

1 kg of eggplant = $20

1 kg of onions = $50

1 kg of tomatoes = $20

How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line

Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

. $5 might not seem like much, but it could mean a meal, clean water, or a tiny bit of hope for my family.

. Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.

To help me and my family you can donate here or at least you can share this post to people who can support us in gaz

You can support my family here

Here

Or directly here

[mischief-managed-18]

💬 Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You

Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,

When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.

From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.

💔 A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength

As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.

But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.

“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.

“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.

🌿 What Life Looks Like for Us Now

Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.

But things have only gotten harder.

The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.

We’re trapped.

🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed���we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.

And yet…

Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.

Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.

💖 What You Can Do

If you’ve already donated—thank you beyond words. If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.

Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.

✨ Why It All Matters

This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.

Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.

🙏 From the Heart: A Quiet Apology

There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.

When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.

If that happened, I am truly sorry.

Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.

I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.

If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.

Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️

[mischief-managed-18]

This Is My Story, and I Kindly Ask You to Read It

Hi everyone,

I’ve stayed quiet for a while, hoping things would clear up on their own. But I can’t stay silent anymore. What’s happening is not just unfair — it’s deeply hurtful and confusing.

As many of you know, I’ve been sharing my story here for the past few months. I’m from Gaza, and like so many others, I’ve lost nearly everything because of this war — my home, my loved ones, my sense of safety. I started my campaign not to guilt anyone, but simply to survive, and to make sure that voices from Gaza are still heard.

In the beginning, I may have reached out to people too often. I was new to Tumblr and didn’t fully understand the limits of outreach. I realize now that some people felt overwhelmed by my messages, and I genuinely apologize if I caused any discomfort. That was never my goal. I was just trying to be seen in a world where we often feel invisible.

But this turned into something bigger.

Some users began spreading false claims about me — saying I’m not from Gaza, that I’m not the person in my photos. None of that is true.

Before I ever shared a single post, I contacted Gazavetters — a respected Tumblr page that vets campaigns from Gaza. They asked me to send a photo of myself in Gaza holding a paper with their name on it. I did. After reviewing everything, they verified me and added my name to their list as number 309.

First picture before the war

Second picture during the war

For weeks, I was listed as verified. Then one day, I was suddenly flagged as Spam/Bot — with no warning, no explanation, no message. I reached out again. They asked for a thing, I provided it, and they restored me.

But just a few days ago, a friend told me that I’ve now been flagged again — this time as Scam/Spam. I was shocked. I’ve messaged them again for answers, but so far, there’s been no reply.

This label is serious. People who once supported me are now doubting my entire story. And that hurts more than I can explain.

So I’m asking publicly, with full transparency:

Gazavetters — why did you mark me as Scam/Spam after already verifying me?

What proof do you have to support that?

Why was I not warned or contacted first?

@gazavetters

You shared a general post warning about people who pressure donors by saying things like, “If you don’t donate, I will harm myself.”

I have never done that.

I have never said anything extreme or manipulative.

I have always spoken kindly and respectfully — asking for help, or simply for a reblog.

What makes this harder is that I see other campaigns on your list using much stronger language, and yet they remain flagged “safe.” I am not here to criticize them — everyone struggles in their own way — but I do want to understand:

Why am I the only one flagged with such a damaging label, despite doing everything right?

I am not a scammer.

I am a real person — from Gaza — and I have nothing to hide.

If anyone has doubts, I invite you to talk to me directly, and I’ll gladly provide proof again.

But I also want to say this:

Gazavetters, you have a responsibility to be truthful and fair. You verified me. You received my proof. If you truly believe I’m a scammer, show the evidence. If not — then please be honest with the community and speak up.

Right now, people are using your flag as their only evidence to say I’m a liar. And your silence is allowing false narratives to spread. If you know I’m real — and you already verified me — then please tell people the truth.

Don’t silently mark me with a harmful label and walk away.

That’s not vetting. That’s feeding doubt.

To those who’ve supported me:

Thank you for your kindness, your reblogs, and your trust.

To those who doubted me: I understand, but I invite you to learn the full story before making a judgment.

To Gazavetters: I still respect the work you do, but I ask you to stand by your own process and your own words.

This is my campaign, if you want to read it and decide for yourself

Thank you so much for listening ❤️

[mischief-managed-18]

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

[mischief-managed-18]

My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

[mischief-managed-18]

From Under the Rubble... I Write My Story 🌿

I never thought I would write these words… 😔

I never imagined waking up to endless screams,

Running barefoot through smoke and fire,

Searching for my mother among the rubble,

Only to find nothing but silence… a heavy silence telling me that no one will answer me anymore. 💔

In one moment, everything changed.

Our home became a memory, my mother’s embrace became the past,

And my father's face, now absent, is the last thing I hold in my memory.

They’re gone… and left my heart burdened with unspoken grief. 😢

But despite everything, we are still here… trying.

I survived with my younger siblings.

Yes, we survived… but who are we after survival?

Children without warmth, without a roof, with no place to return to.

We were displaced to an unknown place, carrying a bag empty of everything… except pain. 🥀

We slept in the open, waking every morning to a life that holds nothing for us,

But despite everything… we keep trying. 💪

I write to you today not to cry, but to ask for hope. 🌱

I ask you to be a small light in this vast darkness,

To extend a hand that can mend what the war has broken in us.

Your donation will give my siblings a chance to sleep safely,

It will provide us with food, shelter, and maybe even a new beginning. 💖

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #586 )✅️

Any amount, no matter how small, is big for us

It’s a prayer, it’s love, it’s life. 🌟

In conclusion...

From my heart, and from the hearts of my little siblings,

Thank you to everyone who has donated,

Thank you to everyone who has read,

Thank you to everyone who has shared.

You are the proof that goodness does not die, and that humanity has no boundaries. 💚

[mischief-managed-18]

Life update

Idk if any of my mutuals actually keep up with my lore 😂 but I've kinda always treated this blog like a diary and I felt like updating you guys so here goes.

I cut off my family in September. It's been really hard. I've had to block people on apps I didn't know you could even block someone on. I've been sent anonymous letters about how I'm breaking my families heart. And that was when I still went to church.

I told you guys my husband and I left that toxic Pentecostal Church a few years ago and then I told you guys we'd started going to a new church. We were blind and didn't see we were still in the same cult, just a prettier version. A version where I could cut my hair and pierce my lip but couldn't watch a horror movie or skip too many services because of a chronic illness.

I guess I'm agnostic now? I just kinda feel lost. I know I don't believe how I grew up but I don't know what I believe now and I don't know how to fix that.

On the plus side I have 9 tattoos now😂🤷🏻‍♀️

[mischief-managed-18]

TO WHOEVER NEEDS TO HEAR THIS:

THE RAPTURE IS NOT REAL.

it will NOT happen.

The rapture was only introduced into US christianity in the late 18th-19th centuries.

Fundamentally, the rapture serves as a boogeyman to lord over believers, keeping them trapped in the church because....well....you dont want to be left behind when the rapture happens, do you?

YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO TAKE THE MARK OF THE BEAST. THERE IS NO ANTICHRIST. THEY HAVE BEEN SAYING THE END TIMES ARE NEAR SINCE TIME STARTED. ALL OF THE "SIGNS" ARE JUST THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN HAPPENING IN THE WORLD FOREVER. THEY WILL HAPPEN AGAIN AND AGAIN. AND THE RAPTURE WILL NEVER HAPPEN.

you will not hear a trumpet call and then be left alone. you will not have to survive the tribulation of apocalyptic hell with satan ruling the earth until christ returns.

i promise.

you have a future!!!! you really do!!!! life will not end suddenly bc of the rapture.

plan for your future!!! envision it!!!! think about places you want to go and people you want to spend time with!!!

in order to build a beautiful future for yourself you must envision it!!!

[mischief-managed-18]

Being ex-Christian but also not wanting to be against people choosing religion is like: i want you to be happy, i hate the lies you stand for, i know you’re not a bad one, it’s an overwhelmingly awful thing, i want to belong with the people i grew up with, they cannot be comfortable with me anymore, I know you will always love me, but not over your faith, im happy that you are bfaithful, im begging you to run as far away as you can before falling too far in, im glad you’re getting baptized, i cannot trust you anymore, i understand the joke, i know im not like you anymore, this event was fun, its a cult its a cult its a cult its a cult its a cult please im begging you you don’t know how this has hurt me so much im begging you listen to me please, haha singing vegetables, im not the lie that you loved anymore