She posted this to her personal blog and to reddit, I find it interesting because Ive heard so much about this behavior from those guys. The GDP site was identified in the reddit post so that IS who she is referring to.
I’m sure that over the past 2 weeks, most of you have already heard about/saw some pretty terrible stuff involving me. Even though it’s easier looking from the outside in and thinking the worst, the actual reality is much different from outside assumption. Writing this has not only been extremely painful, but also nearly impossible. However, I want to set the record straight so that everyone knows the truth and that I may begin healing and moving forward with my life.
The night before St. Patrick’s Day, I didn’t feel like doing homework anymore, so I started watching MTV. For some reason, the ridiculous and completely unrelatable shows inspired me to jokingly apply to casting calls for different TV series. After submitting photos and information to the America’s Next Top Model website, I decided to create my own portfolio and send it out to a handful of other agencies who were seeking new models around the world. Expecting to never hear back, I didn’t think much else about the spontaneous applications.
After more than a month passed, I had completely forgotten about my submissions. Until the day I received an email from the Australian modeling company I applied to on ModelMayhem. I was being offered a modeling contract for their quickly growing company’s base in San Diego, CA. It was a dream too good to be true. Still in disbelief, I researched the company’s name on Google. I couldn’t find the website I originally applied to, and began questioning my recruiter. He seemed so cool and immediately reassured me. He was so down to earth and completely open, even having one of the original models facetime me and add me on instagram. She showed me her modeling photos for the company and told me all about her amazing San Diego trip. I couldn’t wait to go. The company offered to fly out not only myself, but also a friend of my choice. Due to a last-minute exam, my plus 1 ended up staying in Morgantown, so I traveled to California alone. My recruiter and the original model comforted me throughout my solo trip and promised to fly out my friend the next time I came back. When I landed in Cali, my recruiter picked me up from the airport in a new BMW. It was the same guy I had been facetiming and texting, however, his seemingly warm charismatic personality was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was distant and icy, acting more annoyed with each word I said. He dropped me off at an incredible hotel and told me to be up early the next morning, well rested and ready for the makeup artist.
I did exactly as told and was totally ready by the time my makeup artist arrived at my room. She was a very stylish young MAC artist who knew exactly what to do to my face as soon as she entered the room. I told her I couldn’t wait to begin modeling and how blessed I felt to be chosen. She smiled and didn’t say much back. Within a few minutes, my recruiter arrived with 2 other large intimidating men to take me to the photo shoot. I was a little nervous but mainly felt excited. The makeup artist said goodbye and watched as we got in a black Land Rover and drove off. The 3 Australian men talked and joked around amongst each other without saying much to me. They played really hard house music and talked about women they were bringing to a dinner party later that night. We were in the car for around 30 minutes before arriving to an incredible five-star resort. We were buzzed in at the front gate and navigated through the compound until we arrived at a secluded villa overlooking a large private pool. The men unpacked lights and cameras and other devices I was unsure of from the car. I assumed the shoot would take place outside, but instead, was lead inside the building. It was then when I was made aware that the photo shoot wasn’t at all on anyone’s agenda but my own. My recruiter half smiled and pulled a manila envelope from the folder he was carrying. He opened the envelope and flashed a thick stack of all $100 bills. My confusion immediately turned to terror the second the words, “adult film” were mouthed by the muscular youngest man in the group. He laughed and started moving towards me. Right away, I began hysterically crying and saying “no” over and over. It was the only word I seemed to remember how to say. My mind was in total –panic but my body was like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t move my legs to run, causing my sobbing to intensify. The men were furious with my hysterical response and immediately began screaming at me. Each man verbally attacked me differently, breaking me from all angles. I was told how incredibly ugly I was and that I was the farthest thing from what a modeling agency wants, that I was just another easily forgotten slut, and was called every disgusting/degrading name out there. I was told how insignificant my existence was and that no one wanted to come with me for a reason. My “recruiter” began screaming just inches from my face, demanding I pay back every dollar he wasted on me for my plane ticket and hotel room. I was told I could not leave until all of my expenses were paid back. He stood in between me and the door and repetitively shouted over and over, “where is my money!” Having literally only $0.30 to my name and borrowing money just for gas to drive to the airport, I felt as if there was no way out. Honestly, I do not know why I didn’t think to call 911 on my cell or scream for help. I was way past terrified and had no idea if these men were going to beat me or even kill me. They had broken me.
I was handed a pile of poorly stapled papers and was told to fill every blank. It was a contract that required my initials and/or signature every 10 words or so. Everything these people advertised on ModelMayhem was a lie. I had no idea what the men’s’ names were in the room, what the company’s was actually called, what country these people even came from, let alone what the hell I was signing my name on. I attempted reading through the documents, but was yelled at and told to “shut up” because “the recordings will never even be distributed in America” if I lingered too long on a page. I was given bullshit lines to say to the camera and had to appear genuinely excited for porn and realistically turned on by the terrifying naked stranger in front of me. Every time that I either started crying, winced, or moved away in pain, I was belittled like a dog that just peed on the floor and forced to start the take again from the top. The entire process, I was screamed at for not being hot enough, not taking it like I should, and for being “a dumb bitch”. I wasn’t even a human being anymore; I was an item. My body gave up. I had never felt so much physical/emotional pain in my entire life, yet was forced to pretend that I loved every second of it.
After the trip itself was over, the real nightmare was only beginning. I had never felt more alone than I did during that time. I was so disgusted and ashamed of myself, feeling like no one could ever possibly understand yet alone help. I couldn’t sleep at night and would get panic attacks so severe that I was unable to breathe. I hated myself more and more each day. The biggest reminder of my worthless existence was when I lied to the people around me, pretending that my craziest dreams came true. I blew through the pay of about $5,000 in less than 1 month, spending disgusting amounts on alcohol or clothes I’d later ruin/loose. One night, I even drunkenly tipped a random taxi driver $300 for no reason whatsoever. Even though I was months behind on rent, I was repulsed by the cash and couldn’t put it towards anything responsible. I literally wanted nothing to do with it. I was constantly blacked out and wanted to be as far away from reality as possible. My “recruiter” never stopped texting me, promising to keep my video a secret if I brought him my friends. I played along for some time, even telling my friends that I could get them jobs. I despised myself for lying to the people I loved, but promised to never trap them in the hell I was in. Even though I offered my friends jobs, I never followed through and set up dates with the “recruiter”.
Eventually I couldn’t do it anymore and stopped responding to his texts. He exploited me and leaked the video the day after I stopped answering. The morals I strived so hard to adhere to each day were for absolutely nothing. The kind, loyal, honest, and selfless woman I watched myself mature into had died right in front of my eyes. I was unable to shower for some time, knowing that my own naked body has been observed and judged by everyone that I knew. My once overly-confident and carefree soul has turned into someone scared of their own shadow. I miss myself every day.
At first, I was angry at myself. I felt entirely at fault for a very long time. I wanted to take all of my loved ones’ pain away and keep it for my own. It wasn’t until I began therapy when I realized that I am not the bad guy. The men that lied and stripped me of my humanity are the real monsters. What type of heartless creature was able to destroy another human’s sense of self and go on with their life? My hatred towards these people began my search to getting the answers I deserved. After countless searches, I came across a page that filled all of my voids and helped me realize that what happened to me has happened to thousands of women around the world. Surprisingly, my nightmare ended more fortunately than most others. I am truly blessed to have returned home alive and in one piece. My story is just a small piece of a huge global issue that puts every woman and child at risk. I was illegally trafficked across the country for sex and was made to participate in pornography by force, fraud and coercion. What happened to me could happen to absolutely anyone. I hope that my story is able to raise awareness and better protect women from the dangers of sex trafficking. I am attending weekly individual and group therapy sessions and am meeting with a rape crisis specialist this week to discuss my legal options. I want to catch those illegal immigrant wastes of life and exploit them, just like how they exploited me. Each day brings new challenges, but I get a little bit stronger every day. God gave me the best support system ever. I’m beyond thankful for my incredible family and friends who hold my hand every step of recovery and have made me feel like I matter again. You can take what you wish from my story. Those who know the real me will support me throughout my journey and keep me in their hearts. Those who think less of me or wish to continue judging me are entitled to do so, but have obviously never met the real me and will never get the chance to.