1. FINDING MY VOICE….
I had never held a boys hand. It was a time before my first kiss. I was a 12 year old child with fairly
strict, overprotective parents. I’d been asking for more freedom. I wanted to be more independent.
Born in January, I was always the youngest in my year level at school. Some of my 13yr old friends
were allowed to walk down to the local shopping centre during the day and oh how I longed to join
them. My parents gave no real explanation as to why the answer was always, “No”, just that I had
yet to earn their trust. I had never given them reason to distrust me so I was confused by my
Father’s reasoning.
My best friend was 13 already, nearly a full year older than me so when I went to stay the night at
her place, we were always allowed to rent whatever scary movies we wanted and it was definitely
Ok for us to go for a walk during the day and be back after an hour or two.
We would have fun getting dressed and talking about school and the music we liked. I was very
much into sports and we both loved horses. It was a time when makeup and jewellery were for
dressups for me and my Mother still bought all my clothes. We were just children excited about high
school and the teenage years ahead. I was an A grade student in a private school. My teacher had
told my parents that I could be a Doctor or a lawyer. I was also a promising athlete, coming 1st
in the
Regional Crosscountry championships, looking forward to competing at State level.
I don’t remember much about that day, just that it was Summer as I was in shorts and a floral shirt. I
had also recently started having to deal with puberty and periods so it was an awkward time for me.
I don’t know what we talked about as we set out on our walk to the local shops or why we went
inside when 2 older teenage boys invited us into their home. I remember being horrified when I was
offered a beer and cigarettes. I quickly said “no” to both. I wasn’t asked anything else. There wasn’t
a chance to say, “No.” Sex just happened to me that day. There was no asking or talking. I didn’t
have the words for a conversation like that. All I knew was that sex was for grown ups and I was not
yet a teenager. I do remember walking back to my friend’s house. Everything had changed. Was
there going to be a baby in my tummy? I was 12yrs old with no one to tell. Was this what my Father
meant about “trust?” What had I done wrong? What kind of person am I?
I did decide to smoke cigarettes after that day and I saw that older boy again too. I would jump out
my bedroom window at night to meet up with my best friend, the only one who knew my secret and
the only one who could understand. She had changed too.
Many long, lonely nights, whilst my parents thought I was safe in my bed, I would walk those streets
near my friends house, looking, searching, trying so desparately to get back what was lost – what I
felt had been stolen from me. For so many years afterwards I became a survivor with a secret. I was
to be victimised again a number of times over the years. I made many unwise choices and often
found myself in troublesome situations. Whats wrong with me? Where is my voice? Even when I said
“No” “No” “NO” over and over for 20mins at the age of 14 another older teenage boy from that
same area still took from me what he wanted and went on to brag about it. I repeatedly found
myself in abusive situations, being violated again when still only 14 I agreed to go to a party on that
street and after being asked how old I was by a group of men in their late 30s, early 40s they laughed
whilst handing me my 1st
drink of alcohol. It was a stubby of VB, they had taken the lid off and

2. unbeknown to me at the time, spiked my drink. I only remember parts of that evening. Memories
come in the form of flashbacks and nightmares, some clear and vivid, others very hazy. Any
semblance of innocence or goodness seemed to be lost to me forever that night. I was never to
return to that area again and my relationship with the only friend I felt understood me, came
abruptly to an end.
Binge drinking and drug addiction became a way of life and along with it came domestic violence
and petty crime. Somehow I made it through with A grades at school until the beginning of Year 12
when numbing the pain with drugs seemed more important than my education. Heroin seemed to
make it all go away-for a while. I trusted all the wrong people and I certainly didn’t see it coming
when after rehab and 3 months of being drug free, at the age of 21 I was groomed and recruited for
the purpose of the illegal sex trafficking industry in Brisbane by much older, well organized criminals.
I was the perfect target. It wasn’t difficult for them to encourage me to use heroin again at no cost
until I was well and truly dependant on the drug and one man and his family for my basic survival. I
wasn’t asked, I was told and so for a couple of years I wore the label of drug addicted prostitute. I
accepted my fate and responsibility for mistakes I had made along the way. After all, I had made
many bad choices, hadn’t I? I was able to escape from Brisbane back to Melbourne where my home
was to become the streets of St Kilda for approximately 6 months.
I am 39 today. My son is 15 and my daughter is 10. I found my voice about 6yrs ago when I met my
husband and upon hearing my story, he encouraged and supported me to seek help through CASA. I
like who I am today. I am just a lady with a few scars and a story to tell like so many others. I
recovered from drug addiction and finally quit smoking. A single Mother for years, I am so very
proud of both my children. I have an unshakeable faith. I have found my strength in my relationship
with God and I know that with Him, there is nothing I cannot overcome. I am learning that I don’t
have to regret the past. I can speak out against domestic violence and the exploitation of women
and children. If my story can help change the course of just one life then I am winning the race.
After speaking openly with both my parents for the first time a year ago, I now know how very
different my life could have been if only I had of called my Mother that day and said, “Mum,
something happened to me today.” She would have picked me up. We could have talked. I needed
to talk. We could have cried. I needed to cry. I was a child. It wasn’t OK. There is always someone to
tell…
Today as well as fascilitating a Life recovery group and mentoring others who are negatively
impacted by addiction, I have also been doing some Outreach work for an organization called Streets
of freedom, offering friendship and support to women in the brothels in my local community, who
just like me have a story of their own.
For 15yrs I have spoken publicly about my recovery from drug addiction and today I am beginning to
speak publicly about my recovery from sexual abuse and exploitation. I study part time a Cert 1V in
leadership and Mentoring with plans to begin a Diploma mid 2016. I aspire towards a career
mentoring girls and women coming out of tough places and am in the middle of discussions with the
organization I volunteer for about Co Ordinating a COACH program for them which will mean part
time paid employment doing something I absolutely love and feel passionate about.
Over the last 15yrs, although I have experienced a couple of trauma related beakdowns and two
drug related relapses, I have managed a few casual jobs working in pharmacy as an assistant to the
Pharmacist, Part time work as a personal trainer in a Women’s gym, 4yrs of intensive boxing training
and assisting in the ring during circuits and have recently had part of my story and 2 poems

3. published. Although I am possibly halfway through my life, I am believing the best is yet to come. My
journey has really only just begun.
If I could go back in time and meet my 12yr old self, I would give that little girl a hug. I would tell her,
“It wasn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong. This should never have happened but it did and we
need to get you the help and support you need. You have been hurt and it may be uncomfortable
but you have to talk about it. What happened to you matters. Your experience is important and you
deserve to be heard. Let me help you find your voice…
Rebecca Luke