I am a Human Trafficking Victim Advocate and a Drug and Alcohol Counselor. I am also a human trafficking survivor, a former foster youth, and a formerly incarcerated student. My journey has been filled with unimaginable pain, trauma, and loss—but it is also a story of survival, hope, and redemption.
Growing up, I endured so much physical abuse that I was placed in foster care. When I was just four years old, I was left in the care of my grandmother. She was cruel and hateful toward me. Whenever she was angry, she would strip me naked and beat me with a stick, while the men in the house silently watched. The fear and helplessness I felt as a child shaped my earliest understanding of the world.
Eventually, my mother came to take me away from that household, but the abuse did not end. While with my grandmother, I had been sexually assaulted. A case was opened, yet no one was ever held accountable for the crime that stole my innocence. As I grew older, I struggled with suicidal thoughts and self-harm, retreating into my room to cut my arms. My father was inconsistent in my life, in and out, leaving me feeling abandoned and alone.
At the age of fourteen, I met an older man who lured me with promises of care and affection. One day, I got into a car with him and his friend, and he raped me in the backseat while the friend drove. That experience marked the beginning of a cycle of trauma that would follow me for years.
At home, the abuse escalated. After a fight with my mother, she chased me upstairs and cornered me in the bathroom. She threw me into the bathtub and poured multiple cleaning chemicals into my mouth and over my body. I screamed, begged her to stop, and finally, she relented—but only to turn on the shower, telling me, “You are pathetic.” When I finally called law enforcement, they refused to arrest her, leaving me there with only a referral to a social worker. That day, I realized I could not even trust those who were supposed to protect me.
I was eventually placed in foster care, but by fifteen, I ran away. I ended up at my father’s doorstep in South San Francisco, a broken, suicidal, and traumatized child. My father was an alcoholic, unable to give me the stability I desperately needed. During this time, I met my first trafficker—a man who claimed to be nineteen but was really twenty-seven. He told me I was beautiful and that he would take care of me. In my vulnerable state, I fell in love instantly.
He began grooming me with ecstasy, taking me to hotel rooms and rendering me unable to move or resist. During these moments, he sodomized me and forced sexual acts upon me. In my desperate search for love and attention, I convinced myself this was affection. I dropped out of high school and ran away with him, only to be taken to his family’s dope house. I was locked in a room while parties raged around me, and my own relatives sold drugs to him. I became addicted to meth, a battle that would last twelve years. It still pains me that my own family enabled the trafficker and allowed my suffering to continue.
By sixteen, I was forced onto the streets of San Francisco, acting as a mule for crack cocaine for a prison gang called Kumi. Fear kept me compliant. When my first trafficker was arrested, he sent a fifty-year-old woman to manage me—my second trafficker. She forced me to have sex with men to make money. I begged her not to, but I had no choice. One night, a man offered $200 when I was being sold for $60 per car. Desperate, I grabbed a knife and demanded the full amount. I was sixteen—a teenager robbed of a childhood, sold repeatedly to strangers, and stripped of every sense of safety.
When my boyfriend returned from jail, I confessed, feeling guilt and shame. He coerced me back into trafficking, selling me to men in cars and shacks, and at the end of each night, he would bathe me, saying, “I love you.” Those words temporarily erased the horrors, giving me the attention I had so desperately craved. Law enforcement would raid the house multiple times, yet they never asked for proof of my age. I learned early that no one could be trusted.
By twenty, I met my third trafficker, a gang member who forced me to sell meth. I became addicted, fearful for my life, and repeatedly arrested. This trafficker kidnapped me, demanded repayment, and forced me to provide sexual favors. This cycle continued until I was twenty-six, when I was arrested for the last time. I left my young son at a dope house, demanding to see him before jail. Hearing his voice over the phone broke me and reminded me I was still alive, still human, and capable of feeling.
Determined to break the generational cycle for my son, I committed to changing my life. I served five years between San Mateo and Sonoma Counties, grappling with guilt, anger, and the pain of missing my son’s first steps. In Sonoma, I entered a program called Starting Point, where I learned about trauma and addiction. Inspired, I worked tirelessly to earn my GED. After failing the first attempt, I cried—but I tried again, and I passed. Graduating was the first true accomplishment of my life, a moment of triumph after years of trauma.
I continued my journey in Women’s Recovery Services, where I learned that I was a human trafficking victim, not a child prostitute. The weight of guilt and shame lifted, and I began sharing my story. Through these programs, I reconnected with my higher power, God, feeling love and peace I had never known.
In 2014, I started college at Santa Rosa Junior College as a Bear Cub Scholar for foster youth. I became president of the Second Chance Club for formerly incarcerated students and, on Christmas Eve 2018, received a full unconditional pardon from Governor Jerry Brown. After nine years of struggle, I finally regained full custody of my son.
Since then, I have earned an Associate of Arts degree with honors, a B.A. in Sociology with Distinction from Sonoma State University, and I am pursuing a master’s degree in Social Justice and Human Rights at Arizona State University—the first in my bloodline to achieve this. I am nine years clean, breaking generational curses, and dedicating my life to helping others.
Today, I speak nationally on human trafficking, addiction recovery, and criminal record expungement. I mentor at-risk youth, serve on the Sonoma County Human Trafficking Task Force, co-facilitate the county’s first human trafficking support group, and co-founded Redemption House of The Bay Area. I am married, part of a blended family, and continue to bring hope to those still trapped in cycles of abuse.
I live by this quote every day: “We can move on with our lives and never speak of what God has brought us out of, or we can go back into the burning building and save as many souls as we can and bring them to freedom with us. This is the path I choose today.”
