In a field fertile for trafficking, Queen was a seedling of strength that fought to survive and grow. Queen was surrounded by family, yet completely unprotected. "My uncle started molesting us when I was seven," Queen recounts. We would wake up, and he would be in our bed. He would be on top of us, doing things, sexual things. And we were just very little so we didn't know anything." This abuse continued for years, escalating when her uncle began selling her to his friends for drugs and alcohol when she was just ten years old.
“I can't even imagine looking at my seven year old granddaughter and thinking that some grown man could do what was done to me to her.”
By the time Queen was 13, one of her uncle’s friends became obsessed with her, taking her across state lines and selling her to other grown men. “We ended up in Portland, staying with one of his friends,” she says. “It was a constant party where I was sold to whoever came by. At that point, I was being sold to ten or more people a day.” The abuse continued, moving from state to state, with no safe place for Queen to settle.
Eventually, Queen found herself in California, and her situation changed. “That’s where everything shifted,” she explains. The men were older, and the abuse became even more brutal and she was passed around at parties, night after night, without any break.
“Men constantly raped me. Yeah, they had me locked. At times my uncle’s friend would put me in the closet. At times he'd be nice to me, let me come out in his room. And so I was really, really nice to him, because I, you know, I had been through the ringer already, but I knew that if you're nice to somebody, then they start to like, trust you a little bit.”
It was during one of these nights, when she was 13 years old, that she met her future husband, who, like her, was a child living amidst the horrors of sex trafficking. “He was just a little younger than me,” she recalls. “We connected, and he promised to help me escape.” One night, he gave her the chance to flee, and Queen took it, running into the streets of Anaheim, California in her pajamas with no shoes.
“I ran up to people, asking for help, but no one would listen,” Queen says. “They thought I was just begging for money.” Eventually, she managed to get 50 cents to call her grandmother, who arranged for her to be picked up and sent back home. But home was not a sanctuary. Queen felt that her family did not understand her terrifying experience.
“I just felt alone in the world. Always. Nobody ever believed me about what was happening to me. They just thought I was fast. And, you know, they just thought I was lying.”
For years, Queen lived in fear, knowing her abusers could return at any moment, and despite escaping them, she found herself trapped in a relentless cycle of seeking love and protection and finding it from businessmen and pimps. She craved love and was "willing to do anything to get it." Time and again, she ended up in abusive relationships where men exploited her vulnerabilities. She tried to leave, to break free, but each time, she found herself emotionally and financially vulnerable and she’d fall into the arms of another man who promised love but delivered abuse. "I always thought they were different, but they weren’t," she reflects.
“You know he gonna make sure you clean, he gonna make sure you dress. He gonna protect you. You just wanted anybody who paid real attention to you, and they just, they just play so good, yeah, it plays like a fiddle.”
This cycle continued for years, with Queen enduring severe physical abuse. "I have scars all over my body," she says. “One man hit me so hard, my tooth went through my face. I’ve been beaten with a barbell, held at gunpoint, and brutalized by men who claimed to love me.”
Queen was unable to recognize this as abuse.. She describes that when one abuser was sent to prison, “the police told me he was using me, but it took me a long time to see it,” she shares. "I was 19 at the time and didn’t know how to live without him. So, I kept falling back into the same cycle with other men." Traffickers expected her to make money, both from trading sexual services and moving illicit substances.
A turning point came when one of Queen’s partners was sent to prison. She began attending Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings, where she observed women living empowered lives, free from the control of men. Although alcohol wasn’t her main vice, the principles of the program gave her the tools to reclaim her life. "I was addicted to everything, the money, the hoeing, the cocaine," Queen admits, recognizing the need to break free from the addictions that had bound her for so long—not just to substances, but to the dangerous lifestyle she had been living.
“When I went to AA, I started seeing ladies that were getting their life together. Dressing nice and had jobs, and they were doing, you know, they were just doing good. It had nothing to do with a man. They were doing good because this is what they wanted to do.”
Despite her progress, Queen faced significant challenges. She was booked into federal prison for four and a half years, and she seized the opportunity to break the cycle for good. She was released and found work, but her past continued to haunt her as her ex-pimp searched for her, and the trauma left her battling anxiety and fear. As she began rebuilding her life, she fell seriously ill, losing her job and nearly everything she had worked for. "I was at the end of my rope," she recalls. "I was one minute from losing everything."
It was at this critical moment that Queen found REST. A former associate introduced her to a helpline that connected her with REST, which provided hope and became her lifeline.
“REST was my saving grace at a moment where I felt like I was about to give up. They gave me every single thing that I needed at that moment to get through that hard time that really, really, really rough patch. And for me, I'm going to take everything that's given to me and everything I learned from my situation, and I'm giving. I'm gonna give back.”
REST believed her. Helped her pay rent, provided gas money so she could get to work, and connected her with mental health support resources. For the first time since childhood, Queen felt she could breathe a little, as she was given the chance to focus on rebuilding her life.
“They all know what I've been through, so there's no need to hide who I am, what I am, and how I do, what I do, I can be. I'm free to be me.”
Today, Queen is at peace with herself, a peace hard-earned through years of struggle. “You can never be happy in life if you don’t love yourself,” she says, reflecting on her journey. She is not only working full-time, but she is also pursuing her entrepreneurial dreams. "My business is open, and I'm working on finding financial backing to grow it," she shares proudly. "I want to create jobs for others who are trying to leave the streets. The hardest part of leaving is being able to survive financially. If we can help others like REST helped me, we can make a real difference."
Queen is grateful for the support network that helped her build her life and the stability she now enjoys. “I cannot complain,” she says. “I’m blessed to be able to pay my bills. I’m not where I want to be, but I can go to sleep every night knowing that my rent is paid, and I’ve got food in the house.”
Queen’s journey from pain to purpose is a testament to her strength and resilience. “REST saved my life,” she repeats. “And now, I’m going to do everything I can to help someone else. Even if you help just one person, you’ve done what you’re supposed to do.”
For anyone who may be on the fence about seeking help, Queen has one clear message:
“REST will help you live life on your own terms, not on everyone else’s. They’ll make sure you don’t have to walk that dusty road alone. Just hold on a little longer—you can make it.”