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Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Tears of Despair

She slumped against the wall in the corner of the dark room. Dropping to her knees, she tried hard to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. The feeling of complete disgust and self-hatred overwhelmed her as the passing thought of when will this ever end? swept through her mind. She who was once so fearless, now only felt emptiness from betrayal and the bitter pain that her new life had brought.


Moments before, she had been forced into intimacy with yet another stranger. A stranger, who became increasingly aggressive in his approach, coupled with his animalistic demeanour; smothered her with sweet nothings as he forcefully thrust against her tender and still developing body. She knew that for the next few minutes, she was totally subject to his will, his desire and to feeding his lust.

As she felt the heaviness of his breathing and heart beat racing, she tightly closed her eyes to avoid seeing him unwaveringly gaze upon her body. She had been here before, and knew all too well that there was no choice but to go through with it. The price for her had been paid, and he was just one of many she had to encounter that night.

Her mind scattered in different directions as the fear of where this would lead filled her whole being. She couldnt dare ask him to stop, as the deep scar on her left cheek served as a constant painful reminder of the consequence of such bravery.

After all had been said and done, he muttered some rash words as he slammed the door shut, leaving her all alone in the damp murky room. Her senses switched focus to the putrid smell from the gutters outside; brought about by the humidity of the air, the sound of smashing beer bottles from the bar next door, and the loud honking from passing vehicles.

They triggered her to reflect upon the lowness of her situation, as she lay stripped down to her bare skin on the cold concrete floor.

She wishedhoped for just a ray of light to shine through the darkness of her unpleasant existence. Wondering if this was what life was all about; barely 15 she had been stripped away of any form of self worth and all she knew now was the pitiful shame of what she had become.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore, as she concluded that this was probably her lot and she deserved nothing more.

Then it happened, simultaneously as the un-tightened tap across the room carried on dripping; the tears she tried so hard to fight back came rolling down. Natural instinct would be to wipe them away; as time and time again she had been told theres no room for tears, she needed to be strong and do what was needed for them all. However, this time she just let it flow, flow across her painful scar ridden cheeks.

Maybe, just maybe she could find some form of relief, in an act that made her feel a remotely bit human.


I wrote this story to serve as a reminder of what many young girls are currently facing in the world we live in today. A story that so vividly brings out the truth and highlights the ugliness of the widespread problem child sex trafficking has on its victims.

What are you going to do to bring about that much needed change? The change that will instill confidence back into the young lives devastated by this silent perpetrator. Act now, and let these girls know that there is still hope.

Feel free to watch an interview with 'Thrive Rescue Home' based in Thailand below:



Sunday, 9 September 2012

Dear Diary

"I just came back from shopping with the girls, and I just happened to bump into that annoying sales assistant again and what did she have to say?… “Oh my skinny friend, how are you doing today?…” Your skinny friend!?! Firstly, I am not her friend. Secondly, how dare she talk to me like that?! I do not understand why this woman must persistently make remarks about how thin I am, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME she sees me.

I can't take this anymore - people constantly providing commentary on my life and how I look.
Well, she won’t be seeing me anywhere near that shop again, because I simply cannot stand her. I just do not know how long this is going to last! I do not know what to do! Am I ever going to grow bigger? Can you believe I am even subjected to shopping in the kiddies section? Come on! The kiddies section at 16?

Why do I have the straight shape of a boy? I want a body with an hour-glass shape. Nice curves; like the one N has. Those curves that get all the boys acting like putty in her hands, she got them swooning all over her like bees on a honeycomb. Why can’t I get that kind of attention? It’s just not fair. I’m in the right crew, tick all the right boxes…so it is all down to this frigging body, and let us not talk about the fact that my nose seems to be on steroids, growing bigger by the day.

I am not asking for much, just to be a bit more plump so that my clothes fit as they should - maybe fuller thighs with the perfect butt - so that I can rock those jeans just lying in my closet; too scared to wear them before more people get a glimpse of just how thin I am. I want to punch something, someone. I am so angry, this just isn’t right and life is not fair!"



As I reflect upon these notes carelessly jotted down so long ago, notes filled with the emotional pain of that period, notes scribbled into a tiny scrap book, nicely hidden underneath the crevices of my bed. I remember that this was my past and just like the diary, my past with its agonising experiences were temporary and short lived.
I must now irrevocably press forward because the prize of living a good and fulfilling life far outweigh living the life of an entry from the dear diary of my past!

Feel free to watch the accompanying blog below: