I was having sex for food at 11. Now I am speaking out…

Home / Featured / I was having sex for food at 11. Now I am speaking out…

To: All the men who sexually abused me

From: Dorsey Jones

Charity: youthSpark

Sponsor: The Unsealed

To the men who sexually exploited me,

You are the men who silenced me. You made me feel like I did something wrong. You made me think I was the little dirty whore in the community. I really thought I did this to myself. But in reality, it was all of you who did this to me.

When I was six years old I moved from Norfolk, Virginia to Bainbridge, Georgia. My childhood had no love and no compassion. It was a dark and ugly place. My father died when I was two years old. My mother was too weak to take care of herself to be able to nourish me with the nutrients I needed.

Dorsey Jones reflects on her difficult childhood.

I lived with my mother and my six younger siblings. All of you knew we had some deficiencies in our home, including a lack of food, electricity and clothing.  Deprivation became my pimp, as you all used my circumstances to lure me into having sex for money.

I encountered the first of the hundreds of you out there when I was 11 years old. You know exactly who you are. You were an alcoholic, in your late 30’s at the time. You lived across the street from me.  One evening right before the sun went down, you came to the fence in my yard, crumpled up 20 dollars and gave it to me, using money as a mechanism to sleep with me.

I didn’t even know what sex was at the time, but I knew what we were doing was wrong because of how you made me hide it.

There started to become more of you right when I turned 12 years old.

Sex with you all at 12 years old was scary. It made me very numb. It made me feel dirty. It made me feel unloved and drained all of my self-esteem and confidence.

Many of you had daughters. You had wives.  You had girlfriends. You treated your wives and your daughters with respect and love. You showed me no compassion and no kindness. Instead, you treated me like I was garbage.

I really don’t understand. If you knew that I was hungry, why didn’t you just try to help me, instead of sleeping with a desperate and scared child?  Why did you see the need to take advantage of my innocence for your own pleasure?

At 18 years old I finally stopped having sex with all of you.

This family took me in and encouraged me to move to Atlanta when I graduated from high school. I originally planned to go for job corps but I didn’t like the setting. So I applied to Morris Brown College. For six straight days they denied me because I had a low high school GPA.

I began to study the guy who worked at the desk, taking notice of when he went to lunch.   While he was gone, I came back and I spoke to another person. That person called my high school guidance counselor, who persuaded the school to give me an opportunity.

Once I got into college I knew I had to take advantage of the opportunity because this was my one shot at being successful. It was my one shot at gaining my life back. It was my one shot of being who God said I was, which is a powerful woman, a powerful, strong black woman.

You treated your wives and your daughters with respect and love. You showed me no compassion and no kindness. Instead, you treated me like I was garbage.

Now, I have a B.A. in criminal justice.I am an author.  I have been on the radio over 300 times. I have been on CNN. I have been on BET.  I am an advocate for children who have been abused or who are at risk of being exploited. I am a game changer.

In the midst of getting my education and achieving my goals, I even found love. Real love.

When I came to Atlanta I wasn’t trying to date because I always felt like I wasn’t pretty enough. I felt like somebody would find out what I did in my past with all of you and it would to ruin any relationship.

That was always in the back of mind.

During college on a beautiful summer day, I was walking in the yard when I bumped into this guy. I just complimented his tie. From there we started conversing. He saw me a couple of days later and  asked me out. Of course I said no because I felt like I had already messed my life up. He pursued me for one entire year, every single day for an entire year. Finally, I gave in and we went on a date. We have been together ever since.

Dorsey is married to a loving husband, who she was able to share her past with without judgement.

At first, I didn’t tell him about any of you. One day we went to Bainbridge to visit. When we got there my sister was getting ready to tell him. We were driving back to Atlanta in a thunderstorm when I asked him to pull over on the side of the road. He pulled over and right then and there I told him. He turned the radio down. He grabbed my hand.  He looked at me and he told me that I did it to survive. He said he still loved me and that it was OK. And at that moment I became OK.

Together we have four children: two in college, one in high school and my youngest is ten years old.  Our house is a house full of love. It’s amazing. I think all the things that were missing from my childhood taught me what I needed to bring into my home.  For example, my mom never told me that she loved me. I know how that made me feel. So, I know my children need to know and hear that I love them. I don’t care how many times I talk to them in a day, we always end our conversations with, “I love you.”

I think all the things that were missing from my childhood taught me what I needed to bring into my home. 

I also have a full-time job. I am a case manager, an advocate-survivor leader with youthSpark, which is a non-profit organization in Atlanta. We help children who have been exploited or who are at risk of being exploited. When they come through the doors with no hope and just a little bit of light, I talk to them and disclose my past. Within minutes they open up to me, whereas sometimes it takes them months to share their stories with other staff members.

Dorsey comforting a young child at YouthSpark

I always tell them they are my inspiration. They are my inspiration because so many times the girls that come through the center remind me of what I used to look like. They remind me of who I used to be. They remind me even down to the smell. And that smell I remember is sadly the smell of your semen.

I give these children hope. I give them power, by letting them know they, too, can become someone who is powerful, strong, educated and unafraid to speak up.

In my new adult life I have interacted with a few of you. Some of you have even told me that you are proud of me. I really don’t even have a word to tell you how that makes me feel.  I am still trying to figure out what would even give you the audacity to come to me and tell me you are so proud when you caused so much pain.

But you know what? It’s not even about any of you anymore. A lot of people really couldn’t have gone through half of what you all put me through. They would have died when just one of you climbed on top of them. But I didn’t.

I forgive all of you for what you did to me but I am not a victim anymore. I am victorious. When I look in the mirror, I see a powerhouse. I see wonder woman. I see black girl magic.

When I was little, I didn’t have a voice because you had taken my voice.  Now, I have my voice back. I have my strength back. I am in control of my life.

More than anything else, I am so proud of the fact that I am screaming really loud for the children and the women who are too afraid to shout, to yell, in order to bring attention to this epidemic of sex trafficking. I am able to open my mouth and tell the world about all of you abusers.  But interestingly enough, you are all so insignificant to me now, I don’t even care if you hear me.

With A Very Strong Voice,

Dorsey Jones


Written with Lauren Brill

About the author:

Dorsey Jones is a survivor of childhood sex trafficking. She is also a mother four and an advocate for sexual abuse victims.

Repost, React and Give Back:

Repost: The Unsealed will donate $25 dollars to youthSpark in honor of the first 25 shares of my letter. YouthSpark aims to help children at risk of abuse or sexual exploitation.

React: Tell us your thoughts via social media- comment under our posts

Give back: Donate  if you were inspired by Dorsey’s story. The Unsealed will match the donation if we get 100 new subscribers

Share This

Leave a Reply

[…] enough, in the email was your letter to your late father, former NBA basketball star Anthony Mason, talking about your struggles after his death. You wrote […]

Sweet Lauren, I agree completely with the promise that Brian asked you to make. Frankly, it is the only way that I know to love; totally, completely, wholly and unconditionally. You deserve nothing less, nor does your future love.

Wow. What a truly moving and powerful story. We often take for granted the small gifts we give each other just by being present. I'm sad for the heartache. I'm glad you stayed and became. Who knows what little girl or boy will be attributing their life's purpose to some kindness you shared. Peace and Sunshine

You’re welcome Lauren looking forward to all the future stories :)

Thank you Tony. I appreciate all your support.

Thank you Tony. I appreciate all your support.

I’m sorry to hear about Brian but he was right you are too beautiful to not receive roses Lauren:)

[…] Here is why you need to stop being nice and start being loud […]

Thanks for this! So what movie set did you get on?

So nice Roger <3

Pat, Your letter touched me in a very profound way. It left me in tears in the middle of my work day. It made me want to share something with you. On a July morning in 2007 a police officer answered a 911 call I had made when my Mother went into cardiac arrest. Between that officer, my best friend and the fire fighters who showed up minutes later they were able to restart her heart, however at the hospital she passed away an hour later. At the end of his shift that officer stopped by my home to check on the situation and cried when I told him the unfortunate news I received only 4 hours prior. He tried to apologize to me. I looked at the anguish in his eyes and asked him directly what for? He described the ways he felt sorry. What I want to leave you with was my reply to him. I told him he had nothing to be sorry for because he answered the call in what was the darkest moment in my life. I told him that he was a hero regardless because it takes a special person to answer calls like that. You are a hero to people Pat. No one can ever take that away from you. I understand the process you're going through as I've been there myself and like you I still struggle with it when no one is looking. You aren't alone in this. I hope your healing process continues on and you can regain the happiness in this beautiful life. You'll always be a hero to those people, because you were there when the call came Best wishes Roger Chamberlain

Ruth, your letter moved me to tears. Once upon a time I was very closed off about the LGBT community but over a course of several years, I turned my fear into understanding and I actively stand with the community for their equal rights because it is the right thing to do.