A Letter to My SistasSexploitation: Human Trafficking
He knew everything about me. He was my best friend.
I met my trafficker at the age of 15. I was introduced to him by a girl friend of mine. In the beginning, he was very sweet to me. He took care of me the way I needed to be taken care of. He was the love of my life. None of my needs went unmet. He taught me a lot about life, from his point of view. He knew everything about me. He was my best friend. We spent the majority of our time together. I was even allowed to stay at his house when he wasn’t there. I loved him so much that I was prepared to sacrifice anything to be with him.He said we were going to build a life together. He said that we were going to get married and have a family one day. I believed him.
All of that quickly changed when his attitude towards me became aggressive and hurtful. We argued a lot. It got to the point where he was physically hurting me whenever he felt that I “wasn’t listening” or “disrespecting him”. Still, the love was there. He always apologized for the things he did. He’d say that I made him do it.
He always apologized for the things he did. He’d say that I made him do it.
One day, shortly after my 17th birthday, he gave me an ultimatum. He said that he wanted me to work at a strip club in Montreal and that if I didn’t do it he was going to leave me. I was so afraid of losing him (and the parts of myself that belonged to him) that I agreed. There was no turning back. I was in and out of that lifestyle with him for two years, working in strip clubs and massage parlours. Our relationship was a roller coaster for the better part of four years altogether.
I survived it and I am thankful for that.
I thought he loved me and that we were building the life that we talked about but that wasn’t the case. I started to understand what was happening. He was taking all of my money. The more I questioned him, the angrier he got. Eventually, he became fed up with me and sent me home. I was lost without him. I wanted to kill myself. It wasn’t until I found people to support me that I realized it was possible to live without him. I still think about those days sometimes. Sometimes it can get really confusing and leave me feeling anxious. I hate what he did. But, I survived it and I am thankful for that.