Corner of Angel Street and Richmond Street
Warning: This story deals with material that some listeners may find triggering and upsetting, including discussions of sexual abuse.
This story contains descriptions of sexual assault, violence against women, and human trafficking and could be upsetting for some listeners. If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse, harassment, violence or human trafficking, call the ANOVA London 24-hour crisis support hotline at 519-642-3000.
My name is Olivea Beadle and I’ve survived human trafficking. I was an escort for three years, during my time escorting I was battling life threatening illnesses, as I am a person with disabilities. There is a lot of fear of catching sexual transmitted infections or HIV, being kidnapped or murdered. These are a lot of things that escorts don’t talk about, we also don’t talk about the disgusting things we do for the money. Consent isn’t an option when a client pays for us, they own us until they are fully satisfied.
When I was escorting, every day was a struggle. Mentally physically and emotionally. When you’re in that state of mind, it’s hard to see the good or even plan a future outside of trafficking when you’re trying to live day by day in a scary environment. The men and women who pay for sex are some of the most evil people you could ever meet. I was so scared I registered myself as an adult entertainer so that if I were to go missing they would have my identification, or identify me if I was murdered.
I went to college while I was human trafficking. I graduated with the highest academic award, leadership award, and excellent attendance award. After college I got promoted to be the spa manager at a spa I worked at. My pimp broke my hand so I couldn’t go to work. When I went to the hospital to be treated for my injuries, a staff member referred me to London Abused Women’s Centre so I could get the help and support I needed to safely leave my pimp, as I lived with him making my situation very risky.
He continued to abuse me, causing me to show up to work with marks on my skin all the time. My employer at the time tried helping me leave and realize my worth, which at the time I couldn’t see. I had to go to the hospital again, but this time I had a brain injury and they had to do X-Rays on my throat because he choked me so badly that I couldn’t nearly speak. But I survived. He choked me to kill me, but I lived.