I was just a young girl when everything changed. I left my home town and moved to the big city to make a better life for myself. I got a job as a cashier in a store and saved every penny to finally afford a room in a cheap motel. I didn't mind the job, but the hours were brutal. I had to be at work at 7 am and was only allowed to leave after my shift ended at 2 am. I worked every day and weekends, and I never stopped thinking about leaving that brutal job behind.
One day, while I was walking home from work, a strange man approached me. He asked me if I was a prostitute, and I was taken aback. I had never thought about that job before. I told him no, I wasn't a prostitute.
That man gave me an address to a cheap motel a few blocks away from the store. He told me to go there and wait for him. I was scared, but I had no other options.
I went to the motel and waited. I was nervous and didn't know what was going to happen. After an hour, a man showed up at the motel room. He introduced himself as John, and he offered me money to have sex with him. I was shocked, but I didn't have a choice. I took the money and went with him to his place.
It was not what I expected. We had sex, and he paid me money. I felt small and insignificant, like I was nothing more than a prostitute.
The next day, I got dressed and left the motel. I had learned my lesson. I realized that my life was my own and that I didn't have to sell my body to survive. I worked hard every day and saved up enough money to finally leave that motel and move into a better place.
Years passed, and I eventually made a life for myself. I found a job that suited me, and I finally felt comfortable in my own skin. I never thought about going back to that motel room again.
But one day, I received a letter in the mail. It was from that man who had recruited me to be a prostitute. He told me that he had been watching me and wanted to thank me for my service. I was shocked and didn't know what to do. I decided to ignore the letter and hoped that it would just go away.
But the man didn't give up. He kept writing to me, and eventually, I opened that envelope. It was filled with photos and texts of me when I was in the motel with him. I was angry, but at the same time, I felt ashamed. I had never wanted to be a prostitute, but I was trapped. I didn't know how to get out.
The man wrote me a letter telling me that he was sorry for what he had done to me. He said that he had a change of heart and wanted to help me become a better person. He promised to help me find a good job and to help me get back on my feet.
I didn't know what to do. The man meant well, but I was still angry and hurt. I didn't want to rely on him or anyone else. I wanted to show him that I could take care of myself and that I didn't need his help.
But I couldn't ignore him anymore. He had changed, and I could see it in his eyes. He was sincere, and I wanted to believe him. Maybe, just maybe, he could help me become a better person.
I decided to meet him and see if he was telling the truth. We met at a coffee shop, and I was nervous but hopeful. He apologized again and explained that he had always admired me for my strength and determination. He wanted to help me become the best version of myself, just like he had become a better person after he was caught doing something he didn't agree with.
I was touched, and I believed him. I thanked him for his honesty and for giving me the chance to finally break out of that vicious circle. I told him that I would never forget what he had done to me, but at the same time, I was grateful for the chance to finally become something that I had once dreamed of becoming.
My life was changed forever when I was made into a prostitute. I learned that it wasn't the job that was important but the lessons that it taught me. I learned to trust myself and to fight for what I wanted. I learned how important it was to stand up for what was right and to never give up.
I became what I never thought I would be, a successful and independent woman. I never went back to that motel, but I still carried with me the memories and lessons that that experience had taught me.
And I know that one day, I will be able to share those memories with my children, and they will look back at me with the same awe and respect that I held for that girl who was made into a prostitute.