A Survivor's Story: Getting Help is Key

There is a preconceived idea of what a child victim of sex trafficking looks like. But the truth is that the common definition of victims of sex trafficking is wrong. Children are trafficked out of every high school, most middle schools, and some elementary schools in Montgomery County, Maryland. These children attend school, live at home, or in foster care. They are required to maintain a seemingly normal life, then they are victimized by many men and women, and return home. Never saying anything.

I was five years old the first time one of my brothers sexually assaulted me. Five. I should have been excited about first grade and hoping to make friends at school. After the first time, I did not worry about things other little girls worried about. After my first brother came the next one, then the next, then the next, and then the next. Maybe one reason they all knew to victimize me was because my mother sexually abused me.

I knew my house was evil when I was eight years old. But I did not know it would get worse. It was unspoken when my brothers made it ok for their friends to molest me. I was just passed around from person to person. The shameful part for me was after a while they would show up at the house or knock on my bedroom door and I knew what I was supposed to do.

Growing up, it was not uncommon for what they call a “Traveling Priest” to come to our home and stay for a period of time. There were two priests who came to our house regularly. I do not know where they lived. The first time I was sexually assaulted by a priest was when my mother told me I had better be a good girl and sit on father’s lap and watch the Miss America Pageant, while she closed the door behind her. I was not older than six. Father made sure I sat on his lap and his pants were unzipped as he talked about the pretty girls on television. That was only the first time with one priest. There were more times and another priest. I had to be a good girl and afterward suffer the physical and psychological pain that I would carry with me for decades.

When I was twenty-two years old, I confronted all the members of my family and described in detail the sexual assaults they had committed against me. They all admitted it. They said “So what. I remember times you didn’t even mention.” Only one of my brothers said he was sorry. Not one mentioned their friends and I did not address the priest’s sexual assaults at that time.

My story is considered a modern-day definition of child sex trafficking. There was force, coercion, and threats. Children who are victims of sex trafficking are generally not transported to other states and countries but often passed around by family members, gangs, and organized crime for money. For me, my story was not about these people making money from me but to humiliate me, make me feel as though I was not human, and succeeded in making me feel that being exploited sexually was all I was worth.

My life did not end here. I suffered with devastating consequences from my childhood that included long-lasting physical and psychological trauma, an inability to connect with others, and I lived in a constant state of disassociation.

Through the tireless help from counselors, doctors, and amazing people who came into my life along the way, I slowly unraveled that mess. It took time and setbacks, but I found out—with help—I was more than what was done to me. I was shown by these people I was worth a chance at a good life.

Visit safe S.E.A.T. in the moonlight to learn more about our work to end sexual exploitation and trafficking.