09/26/2026
The other night, my partner and I embarked on a mission to help an individual escape a dangerous situation. With support from local law enforcement and Michigan State Police, we executed our plan, got them out, and began the journey toward safety. Human trafficking intensive case management truly is an incredible journey AND MESSY. What people often see is only the surface: the pickup, the transport, the moment someone steps into freedom. What remains unseen are the countless hours behind the scenes—phone calls, safety planning, trusted partnerships, coordination with law enforcement, transportation logistics, backup plans, resource searches, and conversations across agencies, sometimes spanning counties or states, all coming together to ensure one safe transition.
Helping someone leave is rarely as simple as pulling up in a car and driving away. And even with meticulous planning, trauma can still reshape everything. During transport, we reached a point where a rest was needed. In that quiet space, the trauma resurfaced, flooding in with fear, attachment, confusion, and survival instincts—it became too much, and they bolted. This is one of the most challenging aspects of this work.
People often wonder, "Why would someone go back?" The truth is, trauma bonds are strong. The individual inflicting pain often becomes the one their nervous system learns to rely on. It can feel like drowning while believing that the only oxygen available is the very thing that causes harm. Leaving is seldom a single clean moment. It may take several attempts. Sometimes, a person makes it to the door only to turn back. Sometimes they get miles away and still return. Safety can feel more daunting than the familiar danger. Each attempt isn't wasted; it shows the story is still unfolding.
I am deeply thankful for the trusted partners who step up, volunteer their time, and go beyond their usual roles to problem-solve, coordinate, and endure—even when the outcome is not what we all hoped for. I cherish the relationships built across Michigan and the United States that allow us to reach out when someone needs help. No one person or organization can do this work alone. We must also have the courage to acknowledge the truth: our systems need improvement. We require more trauma-informed responses, stronger continuity of care, better transition planning, and individuals who understand that getting someone physically out of danger is just one step toward real freedom.
This young individual has people who love them, people who will stand beside them, and we will not give up. When they are ready to try again, the door will always be open. I understand the moment when the chains finally loosen, revealing that the life once endured is not the only option. Freedom is not always about a single dramatic escape; sometimes, it begins with the first attempt, then the second, and the third. Until one day, the return does not happen.
The public may only glimpse the immediate moment. We witness the multitude of efforts behind it. We maintain the strength of the network. We leave the door open. We continue to show up. Because at times, the most vital gift we can offer someone is the reassurance that, when they choose freedom again, they won't have to face it alone.
