It's never hard for me to explain why I have chosen the work, or rather the mission that I have. Some things in life aren't so much of a choice but rather a requirement. The Bible says, "To whom much is given, much is required," and I know that I have been given so much that I would be remiss not to give back.

My journey started in England in a neighborhood where choices for youth were limited: the boys got locked up and the girls got pregnant. You weren't expected to finish high school, much less go to college. For a young woman, success was staying with your 'baby's daddy' and dressing your kids in name brand clothes. I always knew I wanted more but the circumstances seemed to dictate otherwise so at 13, I left school to support my alcoholic mother. Although I started off working hard in factories and restaurants, it wasn't long before I found that there were easier ways to make money. My criminal endeavors earned me a lot of fast cash along with a police record. I began to drink heavily, smoke weed, sniff speed and coke. I was raped and was hospitalized for suicide attempts three times, crying for help. I moved in and out of relationships with older men who seemed momentarily to provide the security and affection I was longing for. Social workers, the school board, the police, lawyers and child psychiatrists were all involved in my case but I continued to slip through the cracks of a system that would eventually give up on me.

By 17, I had moved to Germany in search of a fresh start but quickly found myself penniless and desperate. I turned my first trick in a strip-club in Munich, while tears ran down my face, telling myself that I would simply do this until I could make enough money to go home. Yet two weeks quickly turned into two months. The money, the fast life and the attention were addictive and I began to be unable to envision any other life for myself. I numbed myself daily with drugs and lies and told myself that this was who I was. I worked as a prostitute for two hard years, eventually getting out after my crack-addicted pimp tried to murder me. I found a church where they offered not only spiritual counsel, but also a job, a home and unconditional love and support and I began a slow journey back to health.

It's now been eight years since I started my life over, five years since I came to the U.S. and four years since I finally obtained my GED and went to college on a full scholarship, recently graduating with a BA in Psychology.

Whilst working in the prison with adult women for The Little Sister Project in 1997, I developed a youth component working with the 16-21 year old girls. Working with the adolescents felt like finally coming home after a long journey away. There was such a strong sense of identification and such a profound love for these girls that I knew I had found my calling. In these young women I saw so much untapped potential that was being hidden under layers of abuse and pain. In these young women I saw myself. Looking at the things that could have made a difference for me, (early intervention, preventive education, consistent adult support), and the things that did make a difference, (practical services, education, new opportunities, mentoring), Girls Educational and Mentoring Services, GEMS was born.

There remains a deep scar across the palm of my right hand, seventeen stitches, a vivid reminder of the last fight with my pimp. It's reminder that I almost didn't make it, a reminder of how many emotional scars abuse can leave and a reminder of why I do what I do. It's what makes me stay steadfastly committed to a girl that everyone else has given up on. It's what makes me get up in a room full of strangers and share my story. It's what allows me to see beauty, worth and potential in each and every girl we serve. It's what makes me so sure that in five years time it will be the girls themselves running GEMS and doing an incredible job of it.

When I finish a presentation and open the floor up for questions, someone invariably asks if I regret what I have been through or what I would change. I never hesitate to say that I wouldn't change a thing. Obviously there's experiences I would rather not have had and pain I wish I hadn't felt but every experience, every tear, every hardship has equipped me for the work I do now. There is such a deep satisfaction in knowing that I am fulfilling my purpose, that my life is counting for something, that it puts all the past hurts into perspective. My pain has become my passion and I find true joy in my work, in my life and in seeing 'my girls' fulfill their purpose too.

*Pictured above is Rachel and local children in the Philippines where she attended the   International Young Peoples Participation Project