Hi! My name is Cassie. I didn’t grow up knowing what safety felt like. From as early as I can remember, my home was a place of terror. The people who were supposed to love and protect me were the ones who hurt me the most. I was sex trafficked by my own family for 14 years and when you’re raised in that kind of darkness, it doesn’t feel like abuse. It just feels like life. You don’t realize there’s something better because you’ve never seen it. Getting out didn’t happen all at once and it wasn’t a rescue mission wrapped in a bow. It was chaos, emergency rooms, police who didn’t understand, and therapists who said the wrong things. After I got out I turned to prostitution and dancing in the clubs. I spent most of my days high. It was something that I kept running back too. I had over 10 suicide attempts and countless self harm relapses while I navigated this world alone. I thought I was unhelpable, I believed that what happened to me was too much for someone else to hear. Sometimes I still struggle with feeling worth the help, but it has gotten better. Healing has not been a straight line at all. I’ve relapsed into silence and past behaviors. I’ve self-destructed. I’ve smiled while planning my own funeral on several occasions. I’ve sat in hospitals for weeks, tried different therapists, started over more times than I can count. And I’m still here. It didn’t “get better” I fought for better. And even still most days, it’s still a fight. Now I do this work because I know that no hotline or shelter or smiling brochure can fix the hole trauma leaves. I believe that having someone who gets it, someone who doesn’t flinch at your story, someone who helps you plan an exit and still checks in six months later, that can make all the difference. And if no one’s ever told you this: You didn’t deserve what happened to you. And you are not alone anymore.