These stories were sent in through our Share Your Story page, which provides a space for women (and men) to write about their experience of the sex industry in their own words.

Anonymous

My mother rejected me at birth. I was never told who my father was. I was abused in my foster home. I struggled at school. As soon as I could leave care, I searched for and found my father. I’d always felt unwanted and was desperate for love. At first, he was very loving and showered me with presents. I felt as though I was loved at last. Then he got me drunk and raped me. Then he invited his friends in to rape me.

It went on for months. I was his prisoner. I never got any money, just drink and drugs. I don’t remember much of that time, as I was always out of it. I got addicted to heroin. Then I ran away and was homeless for years, selling sex just to get by.

I got some help from a homeless charity and got my own tenancy and help with my mental health. I’m off drugs now and have my own wee girl. I love her and would never want the same to happen to her. I get by, but I’ll never get properly healed, physically or emotionally.

Gary

I was 28 when I met my first boyfriend. I’m a gay man who had no experience and it didn’t take long before the man I loved had got me into having sex with his mates as he took money from them. I thought I was OK with it at first but he got more and more controlling. I eventually got away from him but I still have nightmares and PTSD two years later.

Sarah

I was 13 and full of hope when he stole my life from me. It took me until my early 40s to really understand how I had been groomed into a sex trafficking ring. It all happened so easily and so quickly I didn’t have time to question anything or to escape. I was whisked away from my family and in unfamiliar surroundings. I was caught like a rabbit in the headlights.

But my exploiter loved me right? A question I still have trouble answering now even in my late 40s. As I approach my 50th year I find myself still striving for a life I once believed was possible. Yes, it really has shaped my whole existence and I am still struggling to be at peace with myself.

It’s not as things are portrayed in the media far from it. It’s a life of survival, drugs, torture, and death. I was beaten and raped most days and suffered a degradation beyond anyone’s imagination. I was constantly in fear of my life but also longed for it to be snuffed out. I sometimes still do. I will always be somewhat lost in the dark. I have survived yes but at what cost?

He buried my dead baby in the garden when I was 15. For weeks I awoke in a state of grief and clawed away at the dirt trying to uncover her corpse. He left my friend dead and rotting in a squat and I still see her face now.

I lost everything including my sanity at times. That’s what prostitution does to you. It hollows you out. You are just a commodity, a plaything. You are no longer human.

I bear the physical scars, the ones people sometimes ask me about but they are not the worst. It’s the internal scars, the ones you can’t see that just never seem to heal.

I will however go on and keep surviving because it’s the only thing I can do. What I have learnt is that I have strength and courage and that I will keep fighting to get my voice heard, to get all our voices heard.

I hope that by sharing this, it will encourage others to share their stories too

Share your story

If you’ve been in the sex trade, or have been affected by it in other less direct ways, and would like to share your story anonymously, please see our Share Your Story page.