Looking Back

Last night someone asked about my time in Scotland, remembering fondly about my blog posts I wrote while living there. They asked if I had been trafficked before or after those blogs I wrote or the photos that were taken... and I put myself through agony trying to find the right way to answer.
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THIS was my answer.
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As difficult as this will be to understand, one did not exist without the other. I was being trafficked at that time. The walk to get Caster sugar was worth writing about because it was the best thing that had happened to me in weeks - the chance to get out and see something. When his daughter was around things were kind and gentle. When she wasn't there it was pure hell, what I had to do and put up with. I did go to pubs, frequently. I'm not a drinker. I don't like to drink. I never have. I didn't go because I wanted to go, but because I'd be punished if I didn't do as I was told. I did make cornbread, but not for friends. It was for his family, so they would think I was living a normal, happy life. One did not exist with the other.
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I saw your question last night and (please understand I'm not saying you are to blame and I would never do or say such a thing) it took me some time to digest it. I actually had horrible nightmares last night because I forced myself to think about it maybe a bit too much in order to give you a good, honest, decent reply.
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What you see when you flip through someone's family photo album are the good times. People don't take photos of the bad times. That's exactly the way it is with life on Social Media. I was being heavily controlled. I couldn't have any social media accounts at all unless he had the password. I had a phone, but it was checked for contact outside of him. I got into severe trouble for contacting his sister once. I couldn't write or post anything that looked unfavorably on my life there or there would be consequences. He controlled every aspect of my day, my week, my month - my existence. My life was Hell. Nobody got to see any of that, though.
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It's amazing what you can see in a photo.
More amazing than that, is what you can not.