Police interventions

During my consults for my STI checks and also when police steps by, they usually remind me to call or visit the police when I have serious troubles with a client. However in the cases I did, the situation only got worse. I’ll write some of my experiences with the police of the Netherlands. These are long stories, but I’ll keep it short.

– My first experience was when I dialled the emergency number as a child, because my parents had an aggressive fight. The police came and wanted to arrest one, but my other family member refused to file a report because of religious reasons. After a long talk they left. In that time I stayed most of my time in a residential treatment center, because I was depressed at that time. They never believed me that I had serious damaging ongoing problems in my family – simply because my parents denied these things.. The police didn’t tried to inform that center and didn’t looked after us anymore.

– Several years ago I accidentally got information of someone who admitted that he abused teen girls sexually and that he is still doing it. He told that after confrontation of other people. I informed the police on the phone, but they dismissed it. They asked me things like ‘Well, maybe you are the person who are abusing these kids? How could we know?’ Because of that attitude I let go of that case after that. But recently I heard some other people want to go to the police – I wish them good luck…

– There is a human trafficking case reported of whom the reporter got victimized by the police, due their actions. You can read the story in Dutch, by clicking here. I know that this story is not a fake story.

– Together with a family member I put charges against a different family member because of domestic abuse. After several months they came to the conclusion that the crime was too old to be persecuted. They admitted that if you have been physically abused as a six years old, you still have to put charges of that within five years. This would have mean I had to put charges of that before I was 11 years old. Despite the fact I was dependent of that person. (Note: recently there has a new law applied that minors can still put such charges after they became 18. However this law came too late for us unfortunately.)

– Last year I put charges against a client because of sexual assault. Although I had a friendly cop in the beginning, they still started to question whether I could have been really sexually assaulted – simply because I am a prostitute… They also failed to do a medical examination, even despite the fact that I went to the police office almost right after it happened. After a couple of months I was informed that I had to come back to the office and do everything over again. The report was made by the wrong department. And this case is still ongoing and there are even more issues going on here..


These are some of my police experiences. According to my experiences with the Dutch police, they have a 100% failure rate so far. Besides that it is not uncommon that police interventions make the situations only worse for the victim. And they seriously wonder why prostitutes rarely contact the police…

I understand that you as a reader would love to hear the other side of these stories. I can’t write that here in full, therefore I encourage you to look for other stories of sex workers. There are many more stories like mine, but rarely you’ll find success stories which includes police interventions. If I have a pimp against my will, then I’m quite sure that it would be better for me to avoid the police. I don’t trust health professionals that much either. I think it would be best to inform coworkers and try to deal with it myself.

I want to add here that I sometimes had good conversations with individual law enforcemt agents, but they are always dependent on their coworkers and as well. So I don’t trust them in full either.


If you are a journalist who would love to investigate this issues more, then please contact me! If we get in touch with each other and I trust you, then I’ll be able to share some documents which backups my stories. Thank you.

Finding my home

Today I was thinking about how it feels to ‘be home’. I grew most of my teenage years in several residential settings. And as a kid I grew up in an abusive atmosphere where we most of the time tried to adjust en try to keep one of our family calm, to prevent that he became more abusive then he already was. Therefore I don’t think I really ever had sort of positive feelings of ‘being home’.

Despite the negative things at home, I did had the privilege to see and learn many countries and cultures as a child. One of the beautiful trips I made was to Egypt. I was amazed by the beauty of the historic and big buildings. But at the same time I was amazed at their culture of today. It is so much different then ours, but yet interesting and beautiful.

As a kid I also made some trips to the United States. I loved the beautiful nature and national parks and I also enjoyed the many Disney theme parks. However, these are not my most dearest memories of the States. I still remember the several strangers who asked me how I was doing and who didn’t accepted my ‘fine’ answer right away. Because of the way they looked and asked me wouldn’t make me surprise if they would intervene if they could. They noticed that there was something wrong with me. No stranger in my own country, Egypt or in any other country I visited in Europe, ever noticed and let me know that they were seeing that there was something wrong. It gave me a strange, but good feeling which I haven’t forgot.

I usually find it a bit difficult to leave beautiful places and people. Especially when I’m not sure if I will see them/it ever again. But these experiences were really worth it. And I’m wondering, are these kinds of feelings a bit of what home should feel like?

As a teenager I grew up in several residential treatment programs. I got depressed and that got out of control. Most of the time I enjoyed being in a big group of other teenagers, varying from about 10 to 30 others. It was never really quiet and I enjoyed the presence of all the others. Looking back it wasn’t really a good thing that these groups were mixed genders. There were also a lot of problems on the groups. Letting boys and girls live together (apart from family) is already questionable whether that is healthy and responsible idea. But putting (sexually) traumatized girls and (sexually) traumatized) boys together is a real bad idea. I also hear a lot of stories of other girls who had some serious negative sexual experiences with guys on such groups. Apart from that, I have been close to some other girls from time to time. This was on a friendly and non-sexual way, and they have been very valuable to me. With a few of them I still even have contact with today.

At the other hand the more things I see and the more people I met, the more I have to say goodbye to. I soon discovered that new beginnings and meeting new people, also means new endings. I realize that every new person I meet, means that I also have to say a final farewell to one day. Often the first “hello” and the last “goodbye” is on the same day. But it becomes more difficult when you know someone longer and really love that person. Even a marriage cannot prevent a last goodbye. Maybe there is really a place known as heaven. I personally hope there is and that I will see all the people and animals I love back again. But that scenario isn’t something I can be sure of at this time.

During my work as a prostitute I had some clients who where frequent visitors. Some said I was very good at some specific sexual act, while others said they were in love with me. But one of the most interesting reasons I heard was that he wanted a place to be himself and also want to talk. Often those men had difficult issues at home from what I’ve heard from them. So they visited me to find something that they didn’t had at home. Don’t get me wrong – I’m just talking now about a small group of my clients. But looking for some sort of attention or love from just a streetwalker as me, it was interesting. Most of my clients on the streets just want to have quick sex.

Through all my experiences I think I can say what it is like to ‘be home’. Or at least what it means to me. To me it’s being with people who loves each other and where is respect, freedom and desire to share important things to each other on a frequent basis. The hard thing of all this is that you have to miss each other from while to while and even have to say a final goodbye one day. It makes it even more harder if these people are living apart in all kind of places. But I guess to me that ‘being home’ is not restricted to some kind of physical place. Although I do sometimes miss the times of being with my grandparents on the county where I woke up when the roosters crowed in the morning. Unfortunately I had to say my final goodbye already to them. Maybe the memories of loved ones at a specific place is a part of ‘a home’ as well?

So I’m really curious, what means ‘being at home’ to you? Is it just your physical home or is at about people? Or both? Or did I missed something important? I’d love to hear from you!

Why I loved being abused

As usual a family member of mine went crazy. A time earlier he ran after me while threatening to make pictures of me while I was nude. A different moment he hit us or said how worthless I or the rest of us were. Seeing his dark eyes full of hate made me feel horrified. When I got the chance, I went back to my bed and get some rest. While thinking on what happened, I feel a cold chill coming from the inside of me. What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with him? Why don’t he wants us?  

I never received these answers, but when I was younger I did found my angels. When I was sad or hurt, I could get in touch with them. I craved so much for love and acceptance and I received that from them. My angels, my friends.


One a day after I got home from school, I went on the internet as I usually did. I went on a chatbox of a website that was about a cartoon, primarily aimed at younger girls like me. So often there were a lot of girls on there and a very few boys as well. However after I while I got in touch with some older men. We talked a bit and introduced ourselves, so it didn’t took long before we knew each other’s age and location.


‘How are you, honey?’ asked one of the guys. I had a bad day and didn’t felt so well, but I just pretended that I was fine. He said the same. It didn’t took long before he got curious how I looked in real life. I described it and told me that I must be beautiful. I couldn’t remember in my entire life that someone ever told me that. I got really touched by those words and was very willingly to show him pics of me, as he asked to do so.


My cravings to be loved and to be beautiful was always there. And I finally found people who were willing and able to give me that. After I while I did sexual acts in return for their attention. That made me feel miserable and disgusted, but I was willing to do that for them in return. I didn’t wanted to lose them. 


For me being paid for sex is like hearing again men telling me that I’m beautiful and that I’m able to be loved and enjoyed. Although I never enjoy any of the sexual acts I perform or execute, I do still enjoy the positive attention. 


The people who know my story always react negative to the men who abused me when I was a child by using my bad circumstances. And of course it’s illegal to use a child that way. But when I tell people the other abuse I endured as a child, I wonder why people usually don’t get upset by that. Was my family member not equally or even more bad than the people who used me? And what about the health professionals I talked to, didn’t they had to do more to build some trust? Or shouldn’t I had more rights as a child to decide what was best for me?

Should traumatized sexworkers be protected?

A common question I get is whether traumatized or vulnerable sexworkers should be protected for taking the risk of being retraumatized (by restricting or refusing their legal working places). I don’t mean victims of human trafficking, but the traumatized or the so called vulnerable ones who choose this job by their own choice.

Many people I spoke with about my job said I’m vulnerable, because I’m traumatized and started way too early with having sexual contact with adult men. I definitely don’t deny that I started too early with that and I know that I have some traumas, including sexual ones as well.

My job isn’t always easy when having sexual traumas. There are some clients who tend to be abusive or aren’t seeing you always as an equal human being. Unfortunately screening my clients behind the glass of my window is not my best skill. To keep things short: I had some clients I rather didn’t had. In a few cases I ended up on my bed with tears, feeling disgusted and bad memories flashing up in my mind. These moments are not fun and I usually don’t share them with my coworkers. Fortunately these moments usually doesn’t last long.

So should I look for a different job, simply because I have some clients who trigger me? I don’t think so. There are many people with some amount of traumas and also people who get triggered on their work once in a while. I think people need to decide for themselves what it’s best for them in their circumstances. As I wrote earlier, my job not only provides me money, but it also provides me with self-esteem, self-appreciation and satisfaction. For me, the pros outweighs the cons.

When you work here in Belgium behind a window or in Holland, sooner or later some health professionals will visit you to talk with you. Of course you’re allowed to refuse this, but it can be a good thing as well. If you’re new in a country, you may not be aware of the facilities for sexworkers. This way you’ll have the opportunity to learn about this. So far, so good.

In Amsterdam I’ve got in touch with such a health organization which aims at sexworkers. Besides the STI checks I decided to get frequent chats with a social worker. After all, my job isn’t always fun and great to me. The social worker was helpful to me in a practical way. For instance, she helped to decide whether my current way of working as a sexworker was best for me or not. We also talked about other forms of sexwork and which one would work best for me. Some other time she also shared some options for support when I would want to stop working as a sexworker. In that point of view her help was useful.

However, there was also a different side on this. She was a social worker and as most health professionals, she was kind but also quite distant. I didn’t shared with her my issues that were emotionally troubling at that time. I think most health professionals do their work with best intentions, but I can genuinely say that most of the health professionals I had were not healthy to me. I’ll write about my issues and views of health professionals more in the future, to explain this further.

So yes, I had many health professionals. I also received many therapy in the past, both as inpatient and outpatient. So it’s not like I didn’t tried to resolve my traumas in a way which is considered the healthy and ‘as-it-should-be way’. As a matter of fact in my work it seems to be that I am slowly recovering my past. I can remember more traumatic memories ever without being too much triggered. Besides that, it also get a lot more out of this work than just only money. So in my opinion, I don’t need ‘protection’ and I’m able to make that decision for myself.