Selling Sex…


Little girl don’t cry. The nights you’ve spent, the hours you will never get back, the bruises you have endured. Little girl don’t scream. Those who stole from you, said you aren’t worth it, those who could have saved you. Little girl don’t cry. 

Part of what I do with my deep breaths, with this short life, with my small days, and my limited time…is work to raise awareness about the issue of slavery..particularly sex slavery. Sex. Slavery. Two words that should never be uttered in the same sentence and yet have found their way into our culture. They are pervasive. Wait…sex slavery is pervasive in our culture?

Hold on…again: Sex slavery is PERVASIVE in our culture. 

What is crazy is how disguised it is: prostitution, survivor sex, a choice, pornography, fluffer, sex worker, noble work, empowerment etc. These are the glorified words and phrases used to describe sex slavery. They mask the underlying horrors and depravity of the trade. They make it acceptable…and some would even push to make it legal.

I understand the logic:

“A woman feels empowered if she can provide for herself by herself.” “Sex work isn’t going anywhere, why fight it.” “If we legalize it, well at least women won’t get arrested for soliciting.” “Porn isn’t real, so it’s not actually hurting anyone.”


80% of all persons in prostitution/sex work have a pimp. A pimp is someone who uses force, fear, or coercion in order to get people to perform sexual acts in order to make money from them.

80% also report being beaten, raped, or threatened on a regular basis. Even those who are supposedly there by choice.

The average age into prostitution is 12-14. Minors then are being forced to sell themselves..and who are the buyers one might ask??? Adults. Simply put.


Many girls lured into the pornography business are actually looking for acting careers and are brought in under false pretenses, some under debt bondage, and others because it is their only escape.

Runaways are very likely to result in “survivor sex” or prostitution. They are running from horrors of home and the foster system and find themselves trapped in a life that is engaged out of desperation.

I have spoken with women who reported being so hungry and lost that they have traded sex for a happy meal. A HAPPY MEAL. In a culture where a person is only worth what we can take from them. Their desperation doesn’t lead to choices or options…it leads to despair and ultimately to survival. Survival. Is survival really a choice? Is having NO CHOICE or ONE OPTION really a choice? Is being told that you are only as good as someone will pay for you…really a choice?

And what we don’t get as a culture…is that by allowing people to sell themselves…we accept them for the objects they believe that they are. We confirm their broken identity. We comply with a world that doesn’t value life and the respect each life deserves. Essentially we devalue life to the point that it is only worth a dollar amount.

I remember leading a group once and the overwhelming story I kept hearing was this:

“When someone paid for a service, they didn’t just believe that they paid for that service… no,for that time they believed that they owned me. And if I was uncomfortable with something they wanted, they would take it from me anyway.”

A choice. Doesn’t sound like much of a choice to me. Doesn’t sound like every little girl’s dream. In fact, it sounds like every little girl’s nightmare. It sounds like hell. 



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