I write this blog, always aware that it was pure chance that I am here.
The sex trade works on the assumption that most of its sexual goods will be made to disappear.
Disappear into such deep trauma, that their voices are silenced.
Disappear in to being voiceless and without a past, as so many of survivors of prostitution cannot know what they had to endured.
Disappear into death – whether suicide, too ill to live, or murder – and having their deaths made into nothing.
I write for the voiceless prostituted, I write to state over and over that every single prostituted person matters – none can be made nothing.
I write to the void the sex trade wants to make.
That is why I write in blood, that is why I write in tears, that is why I cannot stop my writing.
I know it was luck that I was…
View original post 553 more words