Birdie’s story is a living reminder of that truth. Birdie grew up in Jackson, Tennessee, the youngest of nine children in a very large and very poor family. Her childhood home was a one-bedroom shack where siblings shared beds and mattresses just to get by. Addiction and abuse were constant realities, and stability was rare.
“My mom was the breadwinner,” Birdie said. “Even though she struggled with addiction, she still worked and paid the bills.”
But survival came at a cost. Birdie grew up watching addiction and exploitation modeled inside her own home. She witnessed her mother exchange sex for money to meet basic needs, and her father allowed it to continue. Those experiences blurred the lines between care, survival, and harm, shaping Birdie’s understanding of relationships long before she had words for it.
“At the time, that’s what I thought love was,” Birdie said. “I didn’t know anything different.”
As a teenager and young adult, those early wounds made Birdie especially vulnerable to exploitation. Following the only example she had ever known, she began exchanging sex for money herself. What started as small amounts, “a couple dollars here and there just to get by,” eventually pulled her deeper into commercial sexual exploitation and addiction. Like many victims of human trafficking, Birdie didn’t believe she had a choice in her situation—it was the only option she could see.
Birdie’s experience reflects a reality often misunderstood about human trafficking. It rarely looks like abduction by a stranger. More often, it grows out of poverty, trauma, homelessness, addiction, and broken relationships. Exploitation disguises itself as survival.
“It’s not as black-and-white as people think,” Kaitrin Valencia, Executive Director of A Way Out Ministries, said. “No one grows up dreaming of this life. Women are making decisions based on impossible circumstances—feeding their kids, having a place to sleep, staying alive.”
For Birdie, the consequences of that life included incarceration and losing custody of her three sons. Yet even in jail—a place marked by loss and regret—God was at work.
“The people there in the county jail I was in didn’t give up on me,” Birdie said. “They saw the good in me when I couldn’t see it myself.”
Through the criminal justice system, Birdie began rehabilitation and was ultimately connected to A Way Out Ministries, a Christ-centered organization that exists to help women exit exploitation and rebuild their lives. What followed was not a quick fix, but a slow, painful, and intentional process.
“The healing process feels like grieving,” Birdie said. “You have to walk through that before you can heal. I had to walk through different stages—grieving the life I lived, the choices I made, and the things that were taken from me. Every day is still a battle.”
At A Way Out, that kind of healing is expected—and supported. The ministry provides long-term Gospel-centered care through safe housing, trauma-informed counseling, mentorship, and discipleship. Women are not rushed toward independence; they are steadily walked toward wholeness, surrounded by consistency, accountability, and grace.
“We believe true freedom comes through Jesus,” Kaitrin said. “We don’t water down the Gospel. Everything points back to the truth of God’s Word.”
For Birdie, the support she received through A Way Out included a mentor who remained by her side long after the program ended.
“She’s still on speed dial,” Birdie said. “She never judged me—she accepted me and my kids.”
One of the most significant turning points in Birdie’s journey came when she regained custody of her sons while still in the program. With accountability and structure in place, A Way Out took a step of faith to help her reunite her family.
Today, Birdie is raising three teenage boys, grounded in prayer and honesty, and learning what it means to trust God daily.
“I want my boys to know that God won’t leave them,” Birdie said. “When they see me praying, they respect that. And when I’m done, they come sit with me and remind me it’s going to be OK.”
Birdie now works, manages her finances, and is learning how to budget and plan for the future. She is working with a financial coach and dreaming of owning a home—something she once believed was impossible. Healing is still ongoing, but hope is no longer out of reach.
“It’s OK to start over,” Birdie said. “As long as we keep God at the head of our lives, there’s always hope.”
Honoring the sanctity of human life means recognizing that life is valuable at every stage—and that restoration is possible no matter how broken a person’s story may seem.
For over 30 years, A Way Out Ministries has lived out that conviction through advocacy, outreach, and Christ-centered restoration. Its work reminds us that the sanctity of human life is not just something we believe—it’s something we live.
“We don’t have to carry the burden of ending trafficking,” Kaitrin said. “We just show up with what God has placed in our hands and trust Him to do the rest.”
As we recognize Human Trafficking Awareness Month and prepare for Sanctity of Human Life Day, Bellevue invites you to pray for those who are still trapped in exploitation and for ministries on the front line. We also encourage you to remain open to where God may be calling you to respond.
Every life is seen by God. Every life has value. And every story is still being written.
To learn more about how Bellevue is partnering with A Way Out Ministries and other missions partners to bring hope and restoration to Memphis, email bbcmissions@bellevue.org.