I Am Not Ashamed

From victim to survivor.
Sure I’ll speak your language.
Since you refuse to learn mine.
I was sold by my mother.
Wait that’s not what you want to hear.
My pimp was the woman whose body grew mine.
Whose body God knit together my soul in.
I was sold for sex as a child.
Wait…
I was a victim of sex trafficking.
Because then you can have that layer of denial
Of cognitive dissonance
You don’t have to hear the words come out of my mouth
The words that would strobe graphic pictures in your head are too much
You don’t want to know what really happens
You can’t believe it would happen in your city
It happens in your city
No matter how big or how small
Do you have a gas station?
It happens in your city
Do you have a hotel?
It happens in your city
Do you have internet?
It happens in your city
I was a victim of sex trafficking. Trafficked in my home town. By my parents. By a national gang. I saw too much death way too young. I was born on drugs, literally, my mother had meth in her system when she gave birth. And Throughout my life she would shoot me up. Regularly. I live in pain every day, because of a pattern of things in my life that were there when I got here. I wish I could tell you it happened for only a year or two and then I was rescued. But that is not my story. My story is not a story of rescue. This is where sugar coating or speaking your language doesn’t really cut it. People bought me for years. As a child. This was all I knew. This was my normal. I knew it wasn’t normal, but it’s what I was conditioned to do. When I ran away. I was lucky in some ways. And not in others. I’ve been followed. I’ve been raped. I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been beaten and shot up. I’ve been stocked. I’ve been ran over. And I’ve run away. I’ve sold myself. And for a long time felt a lot of shame about this. But you know what. I’m done with that. I was a sex worker. I was forcibly sold. And then I sold myself. I refuse to continue to wear the shame our society puts on the consensual selling and buying of sex. I refuse to allow the anti-trafficking movement to make me less of a trafficking survivor, because I later made the choice to sell my own body as others had done to/for me, for my entire life. One does not negate the other. I am a trafficking survivor. I was sold forcefully. I am a former sex worker. I sold myself, consensually. I am more than either of those things though. Life, my life, is worth more than any of those words. Those things are part of who I am. I am also a wife. I am a friend. I am a parent. I am a sister. I am a coworker. I am a neighbor. I am a writer. I am a student. I could go on, but you get the point. Being a trafficking survivor doesn’t define me. It is a big part of my life though, as an advocate (such a problematic word), for trafficking survivors, sex workers, DV survivors and many more. As Walt Whitman said, “Do I contradict myself? Very well; I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.”

I am Autistic

I am autistic.

I am sometimes unnecessarily dramatic

But it will always be because I am passionate about that thing/person/topic

I do not throw fits

Or tantrums

I have meltdowns

Sensory overload

I am autistic.

Sometimes I need a break

I sometimes don’t realize it

But am extremely non-empathetic

And other times

I feel all of your pain or joy or anger

I always take in all the senses around me

I am autistic.

The buzzing fly

The humming computer monitor

All the traffic sounds

I am autistic.

The grating sound of your nails scratching your skin

The air being suctioned in and out of your nostrils

I am autistic.

The taste of all the colors

And the taste of all the words as I read them

I am autistic

The smell of trees

And people

And food

And cigarettes

I am autistic

All the things to touch

All the textures

Chairs – some hard, some soft, some rough, and some flexible

Door knobs

Clothing

Shoes

Food

I am autistic.

Not to mention all the things “normal” people sense

Alarming sounds

Food being cooked in the vicinity

The pain they are in

Physical and or emotional

I am autistic.

I hold down a full time job

And I have associates degree

I am autistic.

I have a family

And I am working on my bachelor’s degree

I am autistic.

I eat food

I drink alcohol sometimes

I like to go to movies

I am autistic.

Sometimes I have bad days

And I need all the sense to calm the fuck down

I am autistic.

I live life

One day at a time

Just like you

I am autistic.

~Sarah

The Journey of Love

All my life I’ve had trouble dreaming of my future, which probably seems weird for anyone who knows me because I am very strong willed, sometimes to the point of stubborn, and I have such huge goals. The struggle I had was where I saw myself in my personal life, relationships, kids, home-life, etc. It’s always been something that seemed to change and be at odds with each other.

I knew from a very young age that I was gay, I was 5 when I remember my preference for women becoming something I struggled with. As a very young child, preschool and kindergarten to be exact, my grandfather and father would tease me about boys; asking me if I kissed them behind school or on the bus, or if I thought they were cute. When I would show embarrassment they didn’t understand that I was embarrassed because I felt like it was wrong to like girls in the way they were asking me about boys. They saw my embarrassment as, ‘cute,’ as a reinforcement that I did in fact like boys. – With the religious background that my fathers side of the family has, there was no way I was ever going to admit that I was gay, not to them at least. I remember times where my grandfather and father would talk, “homosexuality is of the devil. You will go straight to hell if you even think about being gay.” They thought of it as a decision….

There was a time in my life when I wanted to live in downtown Manhattan. I wanted to be a writer and have a white and silver, all glass, sky rise apartment with my cats. I didn’t want anyone in my life.


There was a time in my life when I wanted to be a lawyer, live in a big house with a big family. I wanted to somehow be superwoman and also be a stay at home mom with my kids, go to the gym every morning, and have a partner…and that is where it stopped. That part would never form, because I had this impeding thought that I was suppose to marry a hard working man, be a stay at home soccer mom, barefoot in the kitchen 9 months pregnant cooking dinner for him. Driving a minivan, running errands all day while the kids are in school, having the house clean when daddy got home.

…As if who we fall in love with is a decision we consciously make for ourselves.

And then I decided to really listen to myself…And everything changed. Literally my entire life did a 180. I started taking note of all of the things that have ever held me back. There is a saying, “Garbage in. Garbage out.” What we take in matters. – As a child I didn’t realize all that I was taking in, to many negative things to list. I was allowing the negative and horrible things that were said and done to me my entire life, to continue to ruin my life and my future. I was allowing my past to hold me back.

In the midst of this realization…Lauren walked into my life. I had only begun this journey, of undoing all of the negative and rebuilding my life from the ground up. She helped me find direction, I was wandering around a little lost and she came alongside me in the most amazing ways. She was my friend, when I needed it most. She is the woman I love. – I am starting to get a picture of what our life together is and will be, it’s so beautiful and amazing. I cannot describe the hope and peace and love and confidence I feel on a daily basis. Yes, there are days where life sucks, but I have my best friend and the love of my life by my side. I wasn’t ready for this change in life when it started, but it has been the greatest journey that I have ever been offered.