Her story and the stories of thousands of other girls and women are heartbreaking; these lost daughters and sisters, their bodies property for reasons of necessity, exploitation and drugs.
There are no sinister strangers taking advantage of these women, the “johns” are teachers, bus drivers, social workers, brothers and fathers paying little girls for sex.
It was a rough day, to do my counselling job, to hold crying women who’ve been violated, to listen to people of colour who’ve been the victims of racism and just want to take their lives, sometimes they find the hardships they experience to be just way more than they can bare.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry about it all sometimes.
I’d also be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to drink. But I won’t. It would put me on the wrong side of the front lines.
It’s weird, but I wouldn’t trade my experiences for anything, I love every second I spend caring for strangers.
That doesn’t make it less hard.
Sex work is a far more complex issue than this, there are some women who do it, like it and have no intention of leaving. They are the minority.
The women and girls I heard from, it was never a choice, it was never the glamour of “Pretty Woman” it is never the easy road.
They are so easily preyed upon by rapists, serial killers, gangs, pushers, dealers and hustlers.
Sometimes it’s easy to come home from a day like today and want to give up, but if I don’t add my energy and my will to the powers of good, then what’s my purpose?
Instead I’ll love my family and take care of myself so I can care for others…and, I’ll remember this phrase…
“illegitimi non carborundum”
Don’t let the bastards grind you down