First thing in the morning, Aree (a pseudonym) arrives at the jumping shrimp stand in a Thai market. She combs through the shrimp ponds, checking for dead shrimp. She prepares the small bar of salad ingredients, chopping vegetables and making sure everything is fresh.
At just 18, Aree is the only employee the owner of the food stand trusts to set up all on her own.
When customers start arriving, Aree serves them “jumping shrimp” salad, a salad made with live miniature shrimp, fragrant herbs, sharp lime juice, and the sear of chili. Each salad is $1.85 in U.S. dollars.
At the end of the day, Aree puts the food cart back in order. She cleans the shrimp tanks every few days, constantly ensuring they remain oxygenated and that she’s weeding out any that die.
“I have self-discipline in how to set up and close the shop and keep it neat and clean,” Aree says simply of her incredible attention to detail. “It’s something that I’ll continue to develop. Once I have my own shop, I’ll need to have the utmost self-discipline.”
She’s referring to the coffee shop that she dreams of opening with her father one day — a dream that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago, when she was living parentless, friendless, trafficked for sex as a young teenage girl.
A broken family, a vulnerable child
Aree grew up being passed between family members, mainly shuffled between an aunt and her father, with her mother coming in and out of her life. This involved being moved geographically as well: her early years were spent between three cities, sometimes 14 hours apart.
Early in her teens, Aree was living with her father when a single day changed their lives forever.
“My father had an accident and went to jail for a hit-and-run,” Aree remembers. “My mother abandoned me with my brother, who wasn’t my real brother. They left me there for about a year before my aunt found me. She took care of me until my father got out of prison two years later.”
Even after her father was released, the accident left him with a debilitating hip injury that required constant medical care. Aree loves her father, and she couldn’t bear to see him suffering. She wanted to find a way to provide for him.
All of this left her especially vulnerable to exploitation. At just 15 years old, Aree was lured by the promise of a good job with a steady income. Given her challenges, the opportunity felt impossible to pass up. Unfortunately, that “job” ended up being sexual exploitation, serving older customers for the profit of others.
Being trafficked for sex only deepened the trauma that Aree had already endured in her short life.
Fortunately, when she was 17, her life changed again: she was admitted to Freedom Home.
A life rebuilt by dreams of the future
“I used to think I’d never have a good life or a future, but Freedom Home has given me a new lease on life, a brighter future,” Aree says. “I’ve experienced love and warmth. I’ve been able to learn things I love and enjoy many activities. I’ve experienced things I never could before.”
She has embraced that novelty eagerly, diving headfirst into all Freedom Home has to offer. Through the creative entrepreneurship classes offered by The Exodus Road’s social workers and partners, Aree has made perfumes, scented candles, and desserts — her favorite.
“I make desserts like cookies and brownies the most,” she says. “I studied baking, and there are two types of desserts: Japanese and American. I divide them into those two categories. Japanese desserts are soft cakes, cakes with toppings, and egg cakes. American things are croissants, cookies, cakes, and brownies. My favorites are orange cake and custard cake, which I love because they’re easy and delicious.”
For Aree, this is more than just a fun hobby. She sees it as essential to her dream of opening a future coffee shop, a place that would provide stability for her and her father.
“I want to open a coffee shop because it’s my thing,” she says eagerly. “I want to open it close to home and family. I can share the family burden if I have my own income. I want to open it near tourist attractions so that tourists can come and try the coffee and the cakes I make myself.”
Aree’s concerns prove the reality that for survivors, even after they exit exploitation, often the vulnerabilities that drove them into it remain. That’s part of why Freedom Home’s goal is to equip every resident with skills to find stable employment that will prevent future exploitation.
Through her intentionality at the shrimp stand and delight in making desserts at Freedom Home, Aree is already proving that she has those skills.
“My father, whose leg isn’t very good due to his accident, has trouble walking. He can’t do heavy work or lift heavy objects. He can work sometimes, and sometimes not,” this compassionate teenager shares. “I want to work and send money to him for his medicine, because he has to take his medicine all the time when his leg hurts. I want to save up some money and have him get a leg and hip reconstruction so he doesn’t have to suffer anymore.”
She also holds a deep commitment not to return to the places that exploited her rather than valued her skills and abilities. Aree is justifiably hesitant to talk about the trauma of her past, the details of what she endured. But she pushes past her discomfort when it comes to offering encouragement to others who may be similarly vulnerable.
“I don’t want to do anything bad. Find a good job. Don’t get involved in anything that’s bad for you. Don’t get involved,” Aree offers urgently. “I want to be someone who can take care of my small family and take care of my father. I also want to have money to build a house and do things for him so he can live comfortably without having to suffer like this.”
Aree has spent well over a year at Freedom Home, finding her passions, making friends, and building a vision for a future that looks dramatically different from her past. She’s dreaming up a new story that represents change for more than just herself: it will change the patterns of instability in her family as a whole.
“I’m excited to have a bright future, having never had such an opportunity before. I feel so good and excited every time I see something positive about my future. I’m excited that the staff at Freedom Home has given me something good, and I’m excited to have friends by my side,” Aree says.
