I worked as a prostitute for the money. Was it my dream job? No, but I did it in the meantime because I didn’t know better, and it was voluntary.

I was young, naïve, and in love. At that age, I did not know yet what the dangers were of men who gave you every gift you could want and promised you the world even though you knew that they could not give it. I got everything I wanted: designer clothing, an apartment, vacations, love, and attention. He took good care of me in the beginning, and I felt safe. He wanted me to tattoo his name on my body, and I did it without a second thought.