If not for the constant reminder of those days that smacks me
in the face as soon as I open my eyes each morning, I may have found the
strength to put this all behind me.
Molested at the age of twelve, raped at fifteen, and sold to
human traffickers at the age of eighteen, contracting Tropical Spastic
Paraparesis – ultimately confining me to my bed. Humiliation, guilt, and shame
kept me silent.
My passion, dancing, stolen from me.
When I was fifty-eight (five years ago), I became suicidal due
to years of trauma and nightmares. I had no desire to speak to anyone face to
face so I reached out to the internet seeking help. No matter what time of the
day it was, there was no one that I could talk with, so I sent out emails or
filled out forms.
The only website that responded to me sent me an email asking
me for a donation, hardly the way to open up a victim's heart to want to have
any further communication.
Informative websites such as The Polaris Project only provide referrals.
Unable to find a site that offered a live contact twenty-four hours a day only
led me to more hopelessness.
People have mentioned that my faith should be enough. They
lack understanding. Then, a friend suggested that I "vomit" all the
horrors that lived inside of me onto paper. I did. It has put me on the road to
healing.
I realize now that I am a lucky girl. Less than one percent of
human trafficking victims are found. I have made it my mission to add my voice
to the many other voices fighting to end human trafficking and sexual violence.
I pray that my soon-to-be-published book will not only
enlighten many of the domino effect that trauma wreaks on a life, but also give hope. Now, by the grace of God –
Nothing will silence
this woman’s voice again.
"Your writing matters as much as the
hard labor others do. You teach us all through your words the value of helping
other human beings through tragedy." author unknown
