“I’m 18. I’m very to myself and I’m very reserved. I like to observe things. I’m a very observant person. My friends say I’m crazy. I love Korean and Chinese food. I feel like if music could turn into blood, that would be what’s flowing through my body. I listen to a little bit of everything, but my friends will say I’m very strong about country music. I listen to mostly R&B. SZA is my favorite. Most artists act a certain way in front of the camera, but then in a different way in person. But SZA—she’s all together so sweet.
I’m very reserved until we hit that moment of like, ‘Okay, I accept you.’ And then it’ll be like, ‘Where did she come from?’ If somebody were to ask how we became friends, we wouldn’t even remember. One of my best friends that I talk to every day—we met in my senior year of high school in fifth period. I wouldn’t say anything unless the teacher was speaking to me. I would be by myself. I’m like, ‘How did this happen? Me? I’m scared of people. How did this happen?’ And now we’re best friends. I don’t go a day without talking to her.
I’m starting college soon. Since I was a girl, I wanted to have a career in music. Like, if it wasn’t me actually becoming an artist, it was me becoming a music teacher or a producer or starting a business on my own. I can tell the rhythm of a song just by the beginning notes. I’m more talented in music than I think.
My biggest, biggest dream has been—since I was a little girl—to stand on the stage and know that I’m not scared. I have stage fright very badly. I want to sit there and just know that I can stay on the stage and have all these people looking at me and it doesn’t scare me.
I want to change this generation’s idea of pretty. I don’t get why somebody has to look a certain way for them to be pretty. It hurts because people call me big, or say I don’t look good. It brought me down a little bit. I don’t want to feel a certain type of way because I don’t fit your standards. People on social media say: any body shape matters, we’re supposed to love each other, we’re not supposed to be racist. But there’s still certain people who discriminate based on my color. People give advice and don’t follow it. Just listen to the advice you give.
I’m smarter than I’m supposed to be, but that’s because I’m mature. I’ve learned from a young age that at some point, people were not going to come to my help anymore. That kind of hurt when I was younger. People were supposed to be there—to take me from getting beat up, getting in fights, having arguments—but they weren’t. They’d say, ‘Oh well, you asked for it,’ or not care at all. So at some point, I was like: I can’t sit here and expect somebody to come save me. I have to save myself. I want to be that person for people when they need somebody. Because I want to save you—because nobody saved me. And I do not want anyone to go through what I went through.
I have a son. He is almost a year old. The circumstances of me getting pregnant were not good at all. So I didn’t really want to keep my son. But I also felt like just because I didn’t want him, he shouldn’t have to die. I didn’t want him because I felt like I had to be by myself. But when I got surrounded by all these people at the Policy Center, I started to feel like—I can do this. I have support. So I kept him. And being a mom now, I feel like it was worth it.
Knowing you have a little thing that looks at you like you’re their entire world—it just does something to you. He looks at me all the time. He follows me around. I didn’t want to have the baby of a person I didn’t know. But after almost a year with him, he’s made my life so much better. He’s made my life worth it.
I had to realize that I am here for him. I’m here for me too, because I have to be—especially as a mom—or I’m gonna go crazy. But I have to be here for him because he doesn’t know anything yet. I have to teach him everything. And the things I can’t teach him, his grandpa can. So it’s not like I’m by myself.
I didn’t have love from my mother. And seeing how my life went—I wouldn’t want my son to go through the same thing. I told myself when I had him, it wasn’t going to be the same as it was with my mom. I was going to give myself the time I needed.
I came to the Policy Center after being referred by my caseworker while I was at a mommy and me group home in Jacksonville. That’s where I met Miss Jen. The first time we met, I think we cried together. I told her about my trafficking story, and she told me hers. We connected to each other through a common issue—and now I’ve basically made myself a best friend. Jen saved my life the most.
The Policy Center is a life saver. They are the guardian angel of a place. I feel like here, I don’t feel judged.
If I share my story, then I trust you. At first, I didn’t want to share it. I was shaking internally. I didn’t want to be judged for something that I felt like was my fault. It was a lot to build up and tell someone. But it takes a lot of confidence and courage to have such a dark backstory—and know that it’s made you the person you are now. I hope I can be confident knowing I had a horrible backstory, but I’m still a great person. I’ve overcome a lot.
There was a lot of trauma. I was very to myself in school, because being at school hurt. I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t tell my mom when people picked on me. When I got my period, she didn’t talk to me about it. When I got to high school and people wanted to lose their virginity, she didn’t teach me about any of that either. I told her the first time I had sex—with an older man—hoping she would help me not do it again. But she cursed me out. That’s when I stopped telling her anything. I started running away.
One time I ran away and met a homeless woman. She was a prostitute, though I didn’t know it at first. She saw me vulnerable and said she could help. I thought she was like an older sister. But she manipulated me. Every time I spoke up or said something she didn’t like, she’d disappear and come back later. I felt like I couldn’t speak—because I needed her to protect me.
And before all of that, my life was already full of loss. When I was five, my brother killed himself, and I found his body. Two years later, we moved out of the house, and everything changed. My mom stopped paying attention to me, stopped giving affection. I didn’t know how to control my anger. I would go crazy, throw stuff, lash out. I hadn’t learned how to communicate or express myself. When we moved back to Miami, that’s when my abuse with my mom started. I started having problems with kids at school, and eventually, I went into foster care.
I didn’t want to be taken away from what I knew. I stayed with my uncle, but he was too aggressive. Then I was placed with a nice couple in Gainesville, but it was too much going on, and I was too angry. I ended up back with my mom—and things just got worse.
But I’m not that girl anymore. I’m a mom now. I have a son who looks at me like I’m his whole world. I want to help people. I want to be that person who shows up for someone else, the way no one showed up for me. My life is better now.”
—Jaida
