Survivor Diary: Robin Zee

My name is Robin Zee and life now is relatively good. Though I do have baggage, I often feel as if I am and will always be lagging steps behind the norm due to the circumstances of my life experience. Here’s a bit of my story.

I am a survivor of human trafficking, at the time I didn’t even know I was being trafficked. This is one thing that at times has remained the same transcending time, many today are not aware that they are being trafficked and it’s not because they are stupid either. I just thought that's the way it is, actually I don’t know what I thought, I froze and disassociated in order to survive long ago. At some point I did know there was another side to life but I had no idea of how to get there. There was no one to reach out to that I knew of nor do I think I would’ve been able too. Back then there were no services. When I was a child and grew up into a ball of pain and confusion. The shame, oh the shame internalized deep within.

My first time sold I was around eight or nine years old, though the sexual abuse I experienced began in my earlier childhood, around the same time a child is potty trained. So needless to say my life foundation was cracked, broken and damaged from the get go. Now to give you some time frame on this, in my day there was no smart phones, no internet and if a gal was raped society was deeply entrenched in the belief that perhaps her skirt was to short, she was asking for it, did she consume liquor and did it really happen, it was the “Leave it to Beaver” era. And I assume that if one did report and managed to make it to court, the victim would be torn to shreds and the case dismissed, that was back in my day, that is the mind set that I grew up with. Our resources were limited and the term human trafficking didn’t even exist and people would have questioned your sanity for even trying to suggest that a Canadian would sell another Canadian for sex. That’s crazy talk and lets face it after being sexually abused, raped, and sold, one's sanity is a tad shaky to say the least especially coming up against the signs of that time.

“Our resources were limited and the term human trafficking didn’t even exist and people would have questioned your sanity for even trying to suggest that a Canadian would sell another Canadian for sex.”

I’m here to tell you that it happens, it's homegrown and here in our own backyards. It’s modern day slavery, something humans have been doing to each other since probably the beginning of time. I had no idea but I learned the hard way of the realities of humankind are not always so kind. Back then a person like me was left to their own resources, there was no life line. Many died and for most of us we didn’t find a way out until our later years in life, for me I was thirty-four. Sometimes I reflect on that time and am taken aback by the sheer fact that my very first thirty-four years was this. I am amazed that I can even put together a sentence. Back then pimps or traffickers as they call them now, were fairly tightly knit.

Everyone sorta knew each other though none of us used our real names, in fact that person who we once were was gone, at least that’s the way it was for me. However, there was also a sense of camaraderie, pimps had what were called stables, we were the livestock, every dime made went in their pockets and at times competition was fierce. I assume we were all damaged in one way or another. We were suffering from lack of self- esteem and our self worth and whatever else. Our self worth as well as our sense of self esteem was directly related to the amount of money we brought in which fed into itself and made us want to produce the most, climb the hierarchy of stable life, making life pretty damn easy for pimps. Pimps would poach off each other, and gals would climb the ladder in hopes of becoming top dog by bringing in the most cash - helping to poach from other pimps stables and by not being a pain in the ass, “don’t make waves if you want to survive this”. Pimps were also in fierce competition with each other, it was a cut throat time with smiling faces. It was also a place where a groomed person like me was accepted with open arms, a twisted kind of illusionary love that was anything but love. However no other walks of life in the mainstream would understand or have anything to do with someone like me, with the exceptions of for hire. I was considered a low life, one of those people, you know the kind but I wasn’t a low life, I was a victim. And the lack of acceptance, compassion, support and abundance of judgment kept me where I was for longer than necessary. The pain of being looked at as if less than human, with intense judgment fuelled by ignorance and lack of awareness of anything beyond the facade hurt so bad. There was no agencies, no #MeToo movement, no any movement for that matter, no support, no advocacy, not as there is now. Stayed tuned cause there is more to this story of mine.

If you are or believe you have identified someone in a trafficking situation, you can take action. Call 911 immediately to notify local law enforcement. You may also call the human trafficking hotlines in Canada and the United States by dialling the numbers below. Both hotlines are open 24/7/365 days of the year and provide services in over 200 languages.