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How My Trauma Led Me to the Sex Industry and What’s Helping Me Heal

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” ~Rumi

The hardest battle I’ve fought is an ongoing one. It’s an all-consuming shadow of dread that never leaves, only resting long enough for me to catch my breath.

I know what it feels like to be depressed. I know the feeling of pain and hopelessness so well it almost feels like home.

I remember being around eleven years old and thinking, wow, this all seems so meaningless. I had become awakened by my consciousness and overwhelmed by emptiness. I knew then that there was more to life than what I was perceiving. These moments were brief but continuous.

I grew up in an unstable family and took turns living with each and every family member. Everything was temporary and nothing made sense. As I grew older, my . I did not experience love or security, and I felt like a burden to everyone around me. Each day I was disgusted with myself for still existing.

How It All Began

I was drawn to the sex industry because I was part of the wrong crowd, and by the time I hit my early twenties I had completely lost all will to live. I had no desire to even try to function in society as a “normal person” should. It was a place where I could indulge my self-hatred by abusing drugs, alcohol, and my body.

The pain I carried with me was heavy and overwhelming. I wanted to be around people who I could relate to. People who had also given up on life. Although we had no direction, we had a sense of belonging and a feeling of home, which was something we craved. Our pain had brought us together, and that was all that mattered.

We were bound by our and our secrets. It was a place where it was acceptable to be angry at the world. It was my home, and these were my people.

There is a great myth that

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