Wendy's Testimonial
A Sex Industry Survivor's Story
  The lessons I have learned and what I now know about Sex Industry Survivors Anonymous.

I contacted Anne Bissell about one year ago. During this past year she has supported me during trying times, comforted and listened to me for hours on end.

Anne discussed with me about starting a group in Pasedena which I wanted and was very excited about doing. After 3 months of leading the SISA group in Pasadena the 2 hour drive, each way, became too much for me. Anne encouraged me to not feel bad about not being able to do it anymore. She promised me that we would find women in Orange County for me to start a group with. When Anne and I discussed me writing a testimony for thesilverbraid.org, I was not ready to write at that time. Anne did not ask me again to do it. There was no pressure; there was no more discussion about it. Only her calling me and asking me how I was doing. Anne continued to care about me; Anne knew my heart and knew that when I was ready to write I would. When I did choose to write my testimony, Anne was there for me to help and encourage me along the way. Never was there any pressure.

Recently I was asked to be on a show called Life and Times on PBS about former prostitutes. Anne bent over backwards to give me her full attention and care during the weeks before the interview through after the showing. She listened to me criticize myself and she continued to tell me that I did great until I believed her.

After that showing other non-profit organizations have come out of the wood work and have asked me to speak or write letters in order for them to get funding. Of course, I said yes. I want to help anyone who is trying to do good. The people at this other organization ( which I will not name because I don’t think they are a bad organization ) pushed me to the point of breaking, all in the name for them to get more funding. I have to take responsibility for my actions; my actions were that I did not say “no,” when I was being asked to do more than what I could.

Through that experience I had to wonder; where are the women who that organization has helped over the past year and why aren’t they willing to speak out and write for them. I wonder if the organization did to them what they did to me and push them to the point of breaking all in the name of getting more funding. I really don’t know for sure what the funding is like for Sex Industry Survivors Anonymous, but I have a feeling it is not much. At least compared to these other organizations that are willing to suck the souls out of the people they have helped to get more money.

I know, and Anne has proven many times over, that she would not do that. I can honestly see how Sex Industry Survivors could be a dieing organization because she truly cares about the people that she is here to help. I know that Anne truly cares about me, even to go as far to say that she knows what is best for me and knows what I can and cannot handle. I appreciate, am forever grateful and love Anne Bissell for who she is and what she stands for.
Wendy's Story
 

It amazes me how one man can affect so many in such a profound way. Greg Hightower had the charisma and charm to draw young girls into his web of torture and pain with promises of love and protection. As if it were displayed on our foreheads, he knew the girls to target, the girls who were lost, felt hopeless and were desperate to feel loved.

The sexual abuse I endured by my step-father as a child, shaped my beliefs to make me a perfect target for Greg when I was 15 yrs old. He drew me into his web by giving me a false taste of what it felt like to have worth, hope and to be loved. It felt nice to be special to someone…. anyone. When the abuse started by Greg, I accepted it, still I knew in my heart that I was not worthy of any love or kindness. It wasn't long before he demanded that I prove my love for him. I listened to his instructions and in terror I followed his directions. With the intent to prove my love for him and with hope that I could earn his love in return, I turned my first trick. When I was finished, I violently threw up what felt like my soul. I no longer felt human, I now was a prostitute. I wanted to die. I wasn't the first girl he did this to and I wasn't the last. The prostitution ring that he built and ran sometimes contained as many as 15 girls at one time. The physical, emotional and psychological abuse we endured was horrific.

We learned how to reason with a powerful, psychotic demon, and how to survive in life threatening situations. My life became a collective state consisting of Greg, our pimp and other girls and women who followed his direction and lived with the unspeakable consequences. Throughout the years I dug myself deeper and deeper into a life most people cannot even imagine. I no longer had an identity of my own but an identity was shared between the girls he controlled and tortured. "We" were tortured, "we" cried, and each of us had a role to play in this highly synchronized way of living to keep us all connected and trapped in the hell we lived. If one of us would leave, he would torture another girl until she could find the one who had left and bring her back. One time when I left, he beat one of the girls so bad that he broke her spleen. She begged me to come back so the beatings would stop. I did. Know that the bond of torture and pain is stronger than the bond of love.

You cannot imagine the sense of relief I felt when the police came through the door to arrest him. Finally, I was going to be rescued from this monster. The feeling of relief quickly was replaced by disbelief when I was handcuffed and taken to jail myself. No longer was I fifteen years old; the years had gone by and I was now 29 yrs. old. The girls under Greg's control at that point ranged from 14 to 36 yrs old. Although we all were living in the same hell, I was an adult and knew there were minors being victimized by Greg. I didn't do anything to stop it. In fact I had driven the 14 yr old girls to turn tricks; I had even allowed them to turn tricks in my house. I was guilty of promoting prostitution. I was sentenced to two years in prison, I lost my 3 children and because promoting prostitution is a sex crime, I am also now a registered sex offender.

I am thankful for going to prison. It was my first day in prison, surrounded by the barbwire, that I felt freedom for the first time in my life. I was free from Greg and free to create the life I wanted to live. While I quietly sat in prison I observed a commonality amongst the women. None of us felt cared about. In fact most of us didn't feel that we deserved to be cared about. It was then that I realized my purpose. I made the determination that I would be the one to care about those that didn't feel like they deserved to be cared about.

Being released from prison without a clue of how to live a "normal" life has obstacles of its own. Trying to learn to live in this world without drugs or a pimp took all my time and energy. In an almost delirious state I started taking college classes and began the journey of discovering what life really is. Sadly to say, five years after being released from prison, I was still tormented with the feeling that I did not "fit" in this world with a past like mine. I wanted to find people like me; I wanted to know if anyone ever truly survives after a life like mine. I remembered the commonality of the women I sat in prison with and I remembered my goal.

Although I still didn't know how to care about myself, I knew I could care about others. I contacted Sex Industry Survivors Anonymous to see if there were others like me, others that I could help and could find strength from. After meeting Anne Bissell and reading her book, I found hope for my future. She was so supportive of me. She took the time to understand me and she had compassion for me and the feelings I had.

Anne saw my desire to help and find other survivors. She offered me the opportunity to start a SISA group in Pasadena for a group of women in a long term recovery home where many of the girls were dealing with issues of prostitution in their lives. Although the commute was a long one I was thrilled to finally have a chance to fulfill my goal.

After about two months of going out there every week, I found myself playing the old tapes. The voices telling me that I was nothing and I couldn't help anyone because I was just a ho that couldn't even get her own life together. When I got to the house it was chaotic and frustrating. I started thinking that I wasn't really helping. All I was able to do was sit with them and listen. I thought "I'm not a therapist or an attorney, how am I really helping them". When everyone was finally ready to sit down and start the meeting I was still thinking that this was too much for me to handle, I was planning on not coming back again because I really wasn't helping them. As the next women took her turn talking, I was snapped out of my trail of thought by what she began to say. She looked me in the eyes and said "Wendy, I really thank you for coming out here every week. It is when you come out here and sit with us that I truly feel cared about" My heart dropped and I remembered what it felt like to be in prison and feel that nobody cared. I remembered why I was doing this. It is to care. No strings attached, just to care about another.

Please don't ever underestimate how much it means to a person who does not feel cared about to have someone care, even in just the smallest of ways.

Anne gave me the opportunity to reach out to others and to care. Through that experience I have been able to grow in my own life and see a glimmer of peace in my heart. I believe that through understanding, compassion grows. I believe that with compassion, world peace can and will be obtained. I sincerely thank Anne for caring about me and taking the time to understand me. The determination that she has to help women through these sad situations inspires me to continue on; helping and understanding others.

 

 

 
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