I’m a preacher’s kid.
It’s only lately that I’ve realized just how much that identity has affected me. It’s written on ever facet of my life. It’s affected me in good ways and bad ways. And in many, many sad ways.
The thing that makes me most upset about being a preacher’s kid-“PK” as we’re often called-is that no one really understands our specific experience, nor the specific pressures that come with it. In society, we’re typically stereotyped. Made fun of. Looked up to yet resented at the same time. It never really occurs to people to ask us who we are. And it never occurs to people that many of us are in pain. And are terrified to talk about it.