It was a thin line between normal life and the hell that came after.
It is a cliche', but a filthy old man did offer me sweets when I was a girl.
I was abused from a very young age. I lost trust in the world.
I started dabbling in drugs. Before I knew it, I was missing days of work,
selling everything I had. Your home turns into a demon's den,
and then you lose that too.
The most important thing I lost was the respect of my children.
You don't feel anything because the numbness sets in and
you just think about the next time you will get a fix.
I am not the person I used to be. People say you can get over your past,
but it keeps affecting you. Like every ex-user I keep asking myself why
I did that. I can never say I've conquered it, but I am all right now.
Fresh air, that's what I get a buzz from now.
Tania, 42
Normality means very different things to me than it does to you.
Things you take for granted, like being able to wash your clothes when they
are dirty, have a shower, put a kettle on, sit down in fron of the telly in the
evening in your own space, all these things are luxury to me.
I don't know what holidays or weekends are, what Christmas is any more.
I have been living rough, sleeping in alleyways, lifts, dumped cars for many
months now.
If I can get into a crack house it is often my only chance of having a roof over
my head, and even there I get woken up by the rats.
Kathy, 22
The girls are always treated as prostitutes before they are treated as victims.
One night I was working on Wentworth Street, when I saw a guy kicking the shit
out of a young girl who was working not far from me. She was on the ground,
her face was getting smashed. I stopped a police van to report it. They arrested
me and drove me to a station before going back to help her.
We don't go on the streets to be brutalised, but to earn a living and pay for our
gear. I don't understand why they are bothered so much about arresting
prostitutes, when there are robbers and murderers out there.
I don't work the streets anymore, but I still have nightmares about being out there.
Jane, 45
People say we have choice.
I don't remember anyone ever asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up.
My dad was scum. He abused me since I was five and told me it was natural. I
remember my mother telling me not to tell lies when I cried, and then the social
worker abusing me too.
I remember when I was 14, and started going out on
the streets, and the first time I got banged up and
realised I was a prostitute and
there was no way back. For many years I believed it was normal and all that I
deserved.
How can I have a normal life now?
Debby, 26
How can I ever deal with the shame?
People look at me and I think everyone sees dirt. The dead and the dogs get
more respect than me. I wake up, I have a little bit of gear, tidy up a bit, and I
know I have to go out again and earn more money. I have to be off my head to
seperate myself from my body. I have been doing it since I was 15. I don't know
who I am anymore really. I am scared to remember, or to think of the future. I
don't know anyone who has not been beaten, or raped, or robbed, or all of
these things.
The loneliness of it is the worst. If I ever go missing, no one will care if my body
is found or not.
Maggie, 35
Change the Picture
A photography and self advocacy project for female sex workers and vulnerable women in East London.
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