Words Matter: The Danger of Inappropriate Language in Anti-Trafficking Work
When I first began to speak out about surviving family-controlled human trafficking, I never imagined how often I would have to correct the words people use when talking about abuse — especially the abuse of children.
It might seem like a small thing. A word here, a phrase there. But language holds power. It shapes how we see the world, how we understand each other, and most dangerously — how we judge the experiences of those who have been harmed.
One of the most common and damaging patterns I’ve seen is the way we talk about commercial sexual exploitation of children (CSEC). The definitions used across systems — from law enforcement to child welfare, education to healthcare — are all over the place. And far too often, they imply that the child had a choice. That the child had agency. That the child consented.
Let me be clear:
A child cannot consent to commercial sexual exploitation.
This is not up for debate. It’s a legal fact. It’s a moral truth. It’s a cornerstone of survivor-centered care.
And yet — I continue to see and hear terms like “child prostitute,” “underage sex worker,” or even just “engaged in commercial sex.” These phrases are not only outdated; they are inaccurate. They reflect a societal bias that subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) blames children for their own abuse.
This language doesn’t just live on paper. It shows up in courtrooms, classrooms, hospitals, and social services. It shows up when a trafficked child is seen as “making bad choices” instead of being recognized as a victim of a crime. It shows up when survivors — like I once was — are punished instead of protected.
When professionals adopt language that implies consent, they unknowingly align themselves with the logic of the abuser. They suggest that the child had control in a situation where control was violently stripped away.
Survivors of familial trafficking, like myself, often experience years of manipulation, coercion, isolation, and abuse from those who were supposed to protect us. We were never offered a choice. We were never safe enough to say no. And when society uses words that question our victimization, it prolongs our trauma and perpetuates injustice.
If we want to combat human trafficking effectively — and if we want to center survivors in that fight — we must begin with language. That means:
Eliminating terms that suggest child consent
Using accurate language like “child trafficking” or “child sexual abuse”
Recognizing the power dynamics and coercion inherent in these crimes
Listening to survivor voices and letting them guide the narrative
This shift in language is not just semantic. It’s transformational. It’s what makes the difference between a child being blamed or believed. Between being retraumatized or truly seen.
At Mezzo Allies, we are committed to changing not just systems, but the words that shape them. And as a survivor leader, I will keep speaking up — because language can either liberate or harm. I know which side I’m on.