Joy Farrington reports on her revealing conversation with one lady

Joy Attmore

"It's been such a horrible day, so horrible; I just don't understand why she did it!"

I was sat in the back of the Streetwise van, (a Liverpool based project that aims to practically serve street sex workers), on a cold Friday night opposite a woman who was relaying her painful account of the day. That morning she'd been arrested on false charges of domestic violence that her girlfriend had made towards her. She'd spent the whole day in a cell, being interviewed by people who automatically made judgements of her because of her occupation, before her girlfriend finally dropped the charges and she was released. She cried as she said how ashamed she'd felt as the police officers searched her and made her get undressed in front of them.

As I listened my heart broke for her. I knew some of what she was feeling; some of the shame that was wrapping itself around her heart. Earlier this year I had been arrested on charges that I didn't understand and certainly in my eyes weren't true. In that moment I had had to make a conscious effort not to bow down to shame. Now I found myself in a position to use my own experiences to relate better to a woman who may see her life far removed from mine. She didn't have a circle of support like I have and didn't have a belief system as her foundation that taught her that she's worthy of love, respect and honour. Instead she had a lifetime of people telling her that she was worthless; no-one calling her beautiful, but instead treating her body like an object. Her day's account only re-affirmed those beliefs to her precious heart.

I held her hands and carried on listening as she poured out her heart and her story. I completely fell in love with her.

It's often so easy to make judgements of people, or to assume that because we see them doing one act, like having an addiction or making poor choices, that therefore their whole life is a write-off. Something tells me though that that's not meant to be our response.

After a while of listening I asked if I could pray for her, something that I've found to be the most helpful first act in loving someone. She consented and as I held her hands I re-affirmed her beauty and worth before God, asking that he bring comfort and help to her precious heart. With tears running down her cheeks she shared how that was the most beautiful thing anyone had said about her in years.

After leaving the van to work, she later returned to sit for a bit as she was afraid of some of the men who were walking around the area. I saw the fear in her eyes then and the tiredness that she carried from living a life that doesn't allow you to relax but keeps you alert for your own safety.

"There is no way that anyone can enjoy this life," were the words that she later uttered to me.

This lady's story broke my heart and also brought fresh value to my own journey as I realised that some of my own trials are not to be walked through in vain. Good really can come from those experiences that we find the hardest if we allow love to be the voice that we share them through.

Sometimes loving people is the simplest thing and all it requires of us is to hold their hands and tell them that they're beautiful when no-one else will.