When I was 13, my parents forced me into straight child prostitution. That was the first time I actually had real sex with any man. Up till then it was just webcamming, fondling, and molestation. I pretty much had given up on defying my parents.

Around 16 I was having sex with a gentleman who said that he “fell in love with me.” He told me he was going to take me away from this place. My parents agreed to let him take me, for a fee of course. For the sake of this article let’s call this man Mr. Smith.

At first it wasn’t all that bad (do you see a cycle here…)? He bought me tons of things clothes, food, and a cell phone.

Turns out he was the owner of a ring of massage parlors, and I was put to work there shortly. It was pure manipulation. He told me it was good money (and it was), and that I could “earn” my living here. My view of the world was so warped that I thought that what I was doing was normal. And I won’t lie, I actually felt better here than at home so I kept on doing it without complaining. The other workers were pretty nice to me and so was mama-san, a lady he had hired to manage the massage parlor I was shipped to. This was also the first time I actually earned my own money since previously it was my parents who had pocketed everything I had earned them. All in all I felt that I was in a much better situation.

I never actually felt any hatred towards the Johns that would come in and pay me for sex. Not even the disgusting ones. Most of them treated me very well and I even made friends with a few clients. I had a sense of gratitude towards these men — they were the ones who helped me sustain my lifestyle (which is messed up, I know). Smith was also pretty much a perfect gentleman to me. Like I said I didn’t really think of him as a guy who forced me into prostitution. I thanked him for taking me away from my parents and giving me more freedom. Because of that I had a lot of respect for him and admired him in a way. I even had thought of him as my boyfriend.

One night I was beaten badly by him after we had a major disagreement. He took a lot of different drugs that night. I was bruised quite a bit all over my face and my body. Imagine a tall, 6’2” buff White guy hitting a tiny 100 pound 5’ 1” Asian girl. I was being used as a punching bag. After a few hits I blacked out and woke up at the hospital. My ribs had been broken. My face was completely swollen and I couldn’t see out of one of my eyes. Like the event with my mom, this beating felt like it came out of nowhere. I had once seen him slap another massage parlor worker, but that was it. There was never a moment where anyone got seriously hurt until me. That night I knew I had to get the hell out of there. I had a little bit of savings so I started living out of cheap, shady motels.

You may wonder why I never talked to the police. Well as a sex worker, you sort of lose that option. Your credibility goes out the window. Not to mention I was high off of many drugs. Going to court or pressing charges would’ve be a losing battle.

That money started running out, and I was desperately trying to fund my cocaine addiction. I began prostitution again after I wasn’t able to find a legitimate job. The good part was now I was in control without a pimp. Backpage was a great resource, and I was making upwards of $2,000 per week and sometimes more if I needed more money. Most of it went to drugs.

You might think there’s some kind of happy ending to this story, but there isn’t. Unfortunately, I’m not completely out of the sex worker lifestyle, but now I’m exclusively a webcam model and do not escort. Am I bitter about my life? Not really. It was a terrible experience but I survived it. Yes I admit that I am probably very messed up in the head, but the more important thing is that I’m still alive.

I wanted to share my story to show the perspective that not many people have. A very large amount of sex workers like me were forced into it and continue to do it because we have to survive. I actually had great grades in school (up to the 10th grade), and I could have possibly been a marine biologist or veterinarian. I could have gone to college. I loved writing and science.

I also wanted to share the statistics on human trafficking for children because I think this is something that we can help prevent. Human trafficking is a very profitable business, even in the United States. I want to let other kids know that they CAN reach out and that there is a way for them to get real help, even when their loving family are the ones who are abusing them. I’m hoping to help put this issue in the limelight and help others in need.

If my story resonated with you, please share it on your social media to raise awareness of an issue that always seems to be taken lightly.

Are you in a similar situation? Get help now.

National Human Trafficking Resource Center

1 (888) 373-7888

SMS: 233733 (Text “HELP” or “INFO”)