R, Survivor
“I learned that I needed to be a sexual object from a very young age.”
R was born in the late 1990s, into extreme poverty and abuse. Her mother struggled with mental health issues, and her father had taken everything but the house and left them with nothing. Her mother, who was also abusive, began seeing a man with substance abuse issues who was physically and sexually abusive. There was no safe place for R—she was physically abused at home and severely bullied at school, so she looked online for community.
Though what they were asking of her didn’t feel good, R had no one else—and it allowed her to put food on the table for her and her family.
“I just felt like I was an object that existed for other people.”
R was sexually exploited in chat rooms and forums for about three years, when she stopped because she began experiencing mental health issues, including dissociative episodes.
She was searching for safety, stability, and love, however, her chaotic and traumatic childhood left her vulnerable to abusers.
As a teenager, R got into an extremely abusive relationship and knew her mental health was declining. She decided to get a job and support herself.
““When I got into bartending, I didn’t really wanna work in a strip club, but I was like, I can deal with this. ‘Cause I’ve been through so much shit… I can make good money and I can go back to school ‘cause that was all I was trying to do is to pay for school.
Then I was bartending and they would start selling dances with me, as a bartender, without my permission... And I was like, I thought about doing it ‘cause it was a lot of money, but like I knew that like with my trauma it wasn’t a good idea.””
The dancing quickly escalated into sexual assaults. One of the club managers, a former law enforcement officer, began listing club dancers and bartenders in sex ads online, making under-the-table deals with patrons. The club manager pocketed the extra money, leaving R and the other dancers subjected to physical, emotional, and mental trauma.
The persistent violence and trauma made R feel trapped.
“He was going to propose to me.”
R began dating a childhood friend. Though things seemed to be going well with him, she still struggled with mental health issues and the trauma of her situation, which led to a suicide attempt.
““He was like, ‘Let me take care of you. I’m gonna make all this money. I’ll put you through school. I love you. I bought you this ring in Japan. You know, we’ve known each other since middle school. It’s gonna be fine.’
And so I moved with him because I thought that it would be better. And as soon as we got there, it was like the mask fell off. And it was like, the sexual assault started happening so frequently... My mental illness continued to deteriorate and I put myself in a situation where I was dependent on him.””
When the pandemic started, and her abuser began to work from home, the assaults escalated to several times a day. R had no safe place or time to recover, and her mental health declined. Regular disfiguring self-harm and suicide attempts were a means to get the assaults to stop, if only temporarily.
They sought couples counseling, but the therapist did not grasp the magnitude of the abuse. R’s partner maintained physical, relational, and financial control over her. He manipulated their counselor and the legal system to think she was the harmful one in the relationship. It ended with him getting a restraining order against her, leaving her with nothing, and nowhere to go.
“R, they have a bed. I looked into it. You should go there. It'll be okay if you go there.”
Destitute, with two dogs and very little to her name, R met with her therapist who suggested she try to get into REST’s Emergency Receiving Center. The next day, a bed opened up—and R sold everything to get her support dogs’ vaccinations up to date to be able to bring them to the shelter, and accept the bed.
It took a few weeks to come out of the zombie-like state that the recent trauma had put her in, but now, R had a safe place to stay with her dogs and began to recover. She was able to adjust to this newfound autonomy over her own body, experience safety, and start planning for the future—a place to live, financial stability, a career.
Eventually, R moved into the REST House, where she was able to continue to work on healing, understanding her own freedom, and deciding where she would take her life next.
““I don’t think there’s ever been a point in time where I haven’t been scared about where I’m gonna be, like where I’m gonna sleep the next day. And for some reason when I was [at the house], because I wasn’t afraid that I couldn’t pay rent, um, I wasn’t scared that I couldn’t be there. And that made me feel like I could choose what I wanted to do because I could count on somewhere to be so I wouldn’t be on the street. And that it was safe, and that someone wouldn’t just be like barging into my room or attacking me, or harassing me for something—I could just like be there and get my shit together by myself, you know.
... I just felt like that made all the difference because I just didn’t have that ever, honestly.””
“I literally have not violently self-harmed since I left.”
R’s life has changed immensely since she was able to get away from her last abuser. Her mental health has improved significantly, though she still recognizes the need to stay out of stressful situations. She hasn’t used self-harm as a coping mechanism.
In summer 2021, she moved out of the REST House, and into an apartment.
““It’s been really good. I moved across the country. I was able to get a job and a good job… It would not have happened, 100% would not have happened without REST… Mary is still my therapist [through REST’s Integrated Health Clinic] and I still talk to Mary every week. And like that has been so important is just having a consistent [therapist] [even after] moving across the country…””
As she moves forward on her own pathway to freedom, safety, and hope, R wants REST supporters to know that trafficking doesn’t always look like the movies. That
it can look like someone doing okay on the outside, but just struggling to make
their life better—and how crucial the resources are, especially when the barriers
are so complex.
““I learned so much from being [at REST] and learning from those people’s perspectives, and how important those resources are... I’m still privileged [compared to] what a lot of people experienced and have gone through… I saw their experience, and I saw how hard they worked for themselves and how desperate they were [for] those resources. And that made it more valuable because I knew I needed to appreciate this. [REST] provides resources to people that really don’t have them. And it’s really, really important.””
R is an astoundingly talented artist, is currently in school for graphic design, and holds a job in the design field. In fact, you may have seen her work before. R’s artwork was featured on REST’s 2020 holiday cards, and more recently, her artwork was featured on A Night of REST 2021 marketing materials, which was inspired by the strength and tenacity of the survivors who she got to know in REST’s programs.
R’s note on her self-portrait: “Through this, I wanted to express my own desire to persevere. Every day I would look forward to my walk outside, and I would walk past a neighbor’s garden full of beautiful flowers. I’d noticed the flowers were actually completely full of ants and tiny spiders, all hiding under the petals. I thought it was both revolting and beautiful... It made me feel like you can preserve your strength and sense of self even when parasitic energies are trying to take advantage of you and exploit you. I struggle with hardening myself too much against the world, but try to remind myself you can still be strong and endure without losing your softness and vulnerability.”