A Small Candle

I write this blog in isolation, and hope and prayer that is a small candle lighting the way to real change.

That is a fierce hope, a hope against despair that could drown me.

I suppose I need to know that my burning candle is not the only light bringing change to the sex trade.

I know in my logical mind, I am not alone now – but after a lifetime of isolation, I am still scared, still on the alert.

Still that prostituted woman shut in a room not knowing whether the john is violent or not, not knowing how many men will fucked me, still never expecting or getting any help.

It is the isolation of living a life with no hope, no allowing of friendship, no thinking of the past or planning a future, no justice for torture, rape or murder.

It was the isolation of being the living dead.

But somewhere so deep, buried inside me – a small candle was burning, desperate to keep me alive.

The sex trade damage almost every cell of my physical body, drove my mind to the brink of suicide many time – but it never snuff out my small candle.

It was my essence, my stubborn determination to live, the part that remembered with ice in my heart – the part no john, no profiteer and no supporter of the sex trade can ever reach.

They hate that part of me – the part that never believes their lies, their fake promises, their manipulation of language.

When the small candle shines brightly it exposes their hate, their ability to step over the bodies of murdered prostituted women and girls.

Shining a light on how they called sexual torture a matter of choice, empowering and liberating to be prostituted.

Shine a light on the nooks and crannies of the sex trade – exposing internal trafficking, showing up the huge market for external trafficking, giving under-aged prostitutes a hearing and showing they are the same person when they reach 16 or 18, showing sexual sadism is the regular for the majority of prostituted women and girl, showing that hard-core is made on the bodies of mostly prostituted women.

My small candle is bright enough light to scare the sex trade and its supporters to viciously attack me – desperate kill the light.

But know I now real life, I will not be killed now – I certainly will not be force back into self-harm or suicide.

Now my light is stronger than I ever thought it could be. I am alive and I will fight to prevent the machine of the sex trade destroying women and girls.

I can never do this alone. I can no longer be isolated.

I suppose knowing how and what great people are doing to end the sex trade, give me hope, strength and courage.

I need to know of all the candles, big and small, standing up against the sex trade.

We must joined our candles together and burnt the sex trade to the ground.

We must imagine a world without the sex trade.

One response to “A Small Candle

  1. Hi, I would have emailed you personally but that is not an option on this site. I want to let you know that I appreciate your shared thoughts, and I hope writing your experiences will help educate others on the damaging effects of the sex industry, as well as help you heal. Even if it reaches out to one person, you’ve made a huge dent, especially when you think about what one person has potential to do.
    Personally, I can relate to much of what you are saying. I was raped 2 years ago, and after that, I decided to think of and refer to myself as a prostitute, and I began to have sex with multiple strangers, even people I didn’t want to have sex with, doing things I did not want to do, ultimately placing myself in dangerous situations and being sexually assaulted and abused by different men. I thought everything I was doing was completely fine, and I made myself believe I was enjoying every bit of it.
    At that point, I was vulnerable enough to be coaxed into the industry, but I never was. I’m sure you have seen and been through worse than me, but I’d like to let you know that you are not alone, and your story makes me feel that I’m not alone either. Thanks. Peace.


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