every year thirty million people are sold as sexual slaves. we are told that the issues of human trafficking and sexual exploitation are far away from us removed and excluded to third world countries. but what if i  told you that this wasn’t true?

what if i told you that i grew up in a seemingly perfect home. a home with a light blue outside. a home with a white picketed balcony. a home with crisp lush and wondrous yard. a home with a beautiful dog. what if i told you that the child who lived in this home was sexually exploited and forced into child pornography, would you believe me?

that this perfect life; wasn’t so perfect at all.

that the young women who graced pageant crowns of her country was sexually exploited - sold.

would it change what you think? would you think differently? would you question the assumption that this only happens in foreign places far away from home? would you become more aware of the possibility that you know someone who has been raped for money? 

would you reconsider?

reconsider that someone you know creates the perfect life to distract from the reality of what they are really living. for six years i was sexually sold. for years after i reenacted these experiences trying to find mastery and understanding. for years after i denied the pain of my perpetrators penetrations by starving my body numb. 

because the men who raped me, assaulted me, harassed me, were not able to claim my body fully; because the eating disorder did not steal my body from me forever. i was able to come home. not home to the faritytale ideal sold by society, but to my real home, 

the home of my body. welcome.