I was sex trafficked for years. Brothels are hidden in plain sight

You noticed I'm holding q-cards.

I'm holding q-cards

because they are going to help me
focus on my message

while at the same time,
shielding me from painful memories,

and intrusive thoughs,

because my story
isn't an easy one to tell.

In fact, every time I tell my story,

I'm re-traumatised.

But if sharing my story means

that one more girl
has a chance of freedom,

then it's worth it for me.

Growing up in my family wasn't easy,

mental health problems, and abuse

can destabilise a family.

But, abuse doesn't just exist in a vacuum.

It doesn't just start or stop
in one idividual's life,

it permiates every action
and activity of their being.

Mental health problems
and abuse led to neglect,

and neglect left me
on the streets of Scarborough,

as a very young girl.

I distinctly recall going back to school.

Remember each year
the teacher would ask us?

"Write down what you did last summer."

I was so ashamed, I was paralised.

I didn't go to summer camp.

No, I didn't go to the cottage.

I was the kid
that played outside all day long.

There was no regular structure.

There was no routine for most anything.

One summer, I was raped by a stranger,

and other, abuse integrated
by the neigborhood boys.

I was always in fight or flight mode.

It seemed like danger was lurking
around and every corner.

What I learned that summer

was how to remain hypervigilant,
how to avoid attack,

something that no young girl
should ever have to learn.

But it didn't stop the neighborhood boys.