It Was Human Trafficking

[GettingThere]

Last night I was studying psychology, and I learned the definition of human trafficking. For something to be human trafficking, there needs to be an act, a means, and a purpose, with the intention of profit. For years, I haven't had language to describe what my family did to me for about a year of my life. Now I know the right term for it was human trafficking. The act: transfer. I was transferred from one family member to another. The means: deception and abuse of vulnerability: I was deceived into thinking they would help me get a real job and I had almost no money, resources, or other support system. The purpose: forced labour. After I was transferred, I had to labour for no pay. I wasn't allowed to say no and I was physically prohibited from leaving the premises. And by forcing me to work for no pay, they made a huge profit. My family human trafficked me. In suburban North America. For a year. And I had no idea what was happening.

My wrists were never bound with rope. My mouth was never sealed with duct tape. I was bound mentally. With brainwashing, drugs, and alcohol. I was so abused that I thought I was lucky that they were protecting me from homelessness. I was so abused that I thought I was a shameful failure for not having a real job. I even had an online therapist at the time and I described everything that was happening to her. She made excuses for the abuse because the abusers were my family. I was paying her over a hundred dollars a week to be told that everything was actually fine and that I was lucky to have somewhere to live "for free."

From the time I was 4 years old, I never had a place to live for free. I was expected to work, and manage emotions, and soothe egos, and solve marital disputes, and act as a free therapist. From the age of 4. I was human trafficked as an adult so I was doing 20 times as much labour for free every day. I didn't have a place to live for free. I was just working for no pay so I could never leave.

It feels surreal. Like I'm describing someone else's life even though it's mine. I know that I'm smart, and funny, and a whole complex person with friends, and goals, and good memories of times spent with good people. Memories of being seen and treated as fully human. And luckily I survived long enough to escape. Nowadays I'm safe and free and I spend every day of my life with people who love me and treat me as a fully human equal. But I'm also a survivor of human trafficking. That's not my identity, it's just a part of my story. But I am a full, complex, intelligent, brave, loving woman who is also a survivor of human trafficking. Committed by my family. In North America.

I know I need to work on coming to grips with the fact that human trafficking is just part of a person's story, not their whole story or their whole identity. And I think our culture needs to work on that too.

[Kizzie]

I'm so sorry you went through all of that GettingThere. Unfortunately it happens everywhere in the world, including first world countries because there are people who look at others as objects, our own parents included. It's an important perspective on complex relational trauma that we haven't discussed all that much here at OOTS. Thank you for starting a thread about this and sharing what you went through. 

[Papa Coco]

GettingThere,

I am profoundly touched by your story. I'm so impressed by your perception that you are not defined by the things they did to you when they were supposed to be helping you, rather than you helping them.

I will respect what you've been through by taking what you said, "I know I need to work on coming to grips with the fact that human trafficking is just part of a person's story, not their whole story or their whole identity", and treating people who are experiencing trafficking, homelessness, drug addiction, etc, as people who are experiencing these things. Not a label that defines who they are at the core.

Thank you for sharing this with us.

[Desert Flower]

It feels surreal. Like I'm describing someone else's life even though it's mine.

This resonates with me a lot, GettingThere. I also feel, especially when I'm writing down my story, and then re-reading it again, it almost feels like it's about somebody else. And then I think: wow, that is a lot. And also, if it would be about somebody else, I would not blame them for feeling bad about it. But I used to blame myself for that, like, if it was about me, I couldn't see how bad it was. Hope that makes sense.

And I used to work in the anti-trafficking department and that's why your story really struck me too. This is criminal behaviour and yet, when it happens within the family it can stay hidden for far too long (not blaming the victim here, don't get me wrong!) Like 'domestic violence' (I don't know why we call it that, there's nothing domestic about it if you ask me. It's just another way to keep it hidden.) Makes me very angry. 

I'm glad you're sharing this too, it's very important that these stories get out.

[Chart]

GettingThere, Your story is amazing. Thank you for telling. This is something I have never really thought existed. Not in the way you describe.

Children are so vulnerable. I'm trying to imagine a world where children are nurtured ans supported in a positive and healthy manner. I wonder if our species will ever get to that point.