Trafficking…
When I discuss it with others, I usually hear, “That is such a big problem in other countries. They should really do something about it.” Some may have read enough to know that people from other countries are brought to the United States to be sold. They might say something like, “We should strengthen our borders and stop those smugglers.” People are dumbfounded when I tell them that I have been trafficked.
I look like a typical European-American. I grew up with white privilege. I grew up in an upper-middle class family too, which has afforded me many privileges like a college education and a good financial start. I lived in the suburbs of Washington D.C. (the infamous Northern Virginia traffic zone) in the 70’s and 80’s. It was hardly the type of place where parents are afraid for the safety of their children. I lived in a nice, four-bedroom, split-level home in Stafford. I spent my early childhood outside riding my bike and playing in nature. My mother was a librarian and a stay-at-home mom, and my father was a banker. It doesn’t get much more “American pie” than that.
Unfortunately, I think that was the point. The imperfect work hard to make everyone think they are perfect. My parents worked very hard at the façade. My mother was always bringing something new and trendy home from a store. Sometimes, it was a new London Fog jacket for me or my sister. Sometimes, it was the latest household accessory. My father did the typical complaining about the spending, but he was busy playing drums in his band and socializing with all their friends. They really did seem to have it all.
But they were hiding something … a dark secret. It was the kind of secret that nobody noticed because nobody wanted to notice. Nobody wanted to face the truth. It was too messy. It was much easier to look the other way and pretend everything was fine. The secret was my father’s addiction. No … not the addiction to alcohol. That was just a primer. My father had an addiction to sex. And unfortunately, his preference was young girls … very young girls. It started with me and my sister. When that did not satiate the addiction, he moved on to his friends’ children. After that, he started to pay for trafficked girls from a local pimp. But that costs money. It can be hard to feed an expensive addiction on a banker’s salary. There was a need to supplement his income, and being the clever man that he was, he figured out how to do just that. If he was willing to pay for other girls, men would certainly be willing to pay for me. And that is how my father became my pimp.
Wow, this is really powerful. You exhibit such strength in telling your story.
i’m your silent reader and i found out about your blog/forum from scarymommy site..i must admit that i cried when i read about your lost childhood article..i just couldn’t comprehend how your parents could be that cruel, ruthless and inhuman! for god sake, they are your PARENT who supposed to protect, love and ensure your safety! so, in order for me to understand this, i’m reading all of your posting from March until present…big hugs to you..
Thank you so much for reading my entire blog. I appreciate your dedication to understanding. Unfortunately, you won’t understand. The average person cannot understand. The average person just isn’t wired like that.
I have to agree with ‘Beth.. No average person can understand the trauma & its baggage of helplessness and hopelessness that comes with it.
Can one describe the loss of innocence? I still can’t.
Hi Elisabeth, I live in Melbourne Australia and the similarities of our stories astound me. I began to remember in April 2015 at the age of 39. I am extremely committed to my recovery and see a wonderful psych weekly. I think a big turning point in my recovery was when I stopped trying to figure out “how could a father do this to his little girl?” My psych said something simple but so profound to me, it turned my recovery around…”you can’t understand the un-understandable.” So I stopped and it changed my life. I started following you on Facebook not so long ago, your blog has also helped in my recovery, I resonate deeply with everything you write about, which is why I have started to read some of your earlier posts. Thank you. Much love from a fellow trauma survivor.
Hi Martine, I am sorry there are so many similarities in our stories. But I am glad my blog is helping you. Sending you love and light on your healing journey.
Thank you for being a voice for this…we have to let others know that this is a problem! You are so brave for speaking out.
Thank you for your voice too.
I have a blog talk radio show where we provide talk therapy to survivors of child abuse and sex trafficking. As well as resources, awareness and prevention. I would like to interview you for my show. We have over 300,000 listeners.
Hello Annie, Thank you. I would be interested in participating and would
love to discuss it with you. Send me an email at beatingtrauma@gmail.com .
Elisabeth
Such a courageous start to healing and honesty. You were an innocent girl, caught in the winds of your parents’ addiction and shame.
Thank you for shining a light on this. Lots of love to you.
Xo
Thank you! Sending you love and light too.
Wow this is one of the saddest things I have read 🙁
We live in such a broken society…and so many people just don’t realise it is on their doorstep…Thank you for your insightul and very helpful site …I am an avid follower and so much of your information is very helpful day to day. I am so happy for you that you have been able to heal and help others in similar situations instead of perpetuating this cycle of brokeness and hopelessness. Thank you.
Thank you so much Pearl.