I Need Help. (Not That Kind of Help, Jerk.)

IN: Life

In preparation for my upcoming trip to Costa Rica, Panama & Colombia, I spent $258.92 at Zara Chile yesterday.

I walked out with three new pairs of daisy dukes that I will inevitably think look better on me than they actually do, as well as a ripped up white-washed jean skirt, and a top or two.

(Hey–if you’ve ever been to Central America, you know that YOU CAN’T WEAR PANTS. YOU JUST CAN’T. It’s a no-pants zone, folks.)

But despite the heat, mosquitoes, cockroaches, MOSQUITOES, and sore lack of Frank’s hot sauce, many of you know how near and dear Central America is to my heart. I’ve been going there for 10 years now, at least once a year, and always alone. I’ve learned how to make friends with crackheads, how to dodge men with dodgy intentions, how to spit just the right Spanish comeback, and the sacred truth that McDonald’s hamburgers work best for getting out of speeding tickets.

I’ve also learned a few other things.

Like for the same $258.92, I could buy three little girls to use as sex slaves.

And that’s a fucking problem.

It’s one thing to hear about sex trafficking; it’s another thing to witness it.

Which is why I raced to contribute to a ragingly important new book, End Sex Trafficking, which comes out TODAY, in honor of End Sex Trafficking Day.

It’s a giant, lit-up collection of 60 essays on love, knowledge + freedom including one I’ve written myself, and others by Seth Godin, Danielle La Porte, Jonathan Fields and more.

And the coolest part of this campaign?

I don’t make a dime.

All of the authors proceeds goes to the Not For Sale Campaign an organization fighting to abolish slavery every single day.

It’s not just a book, it is a chance to change the world.

Please help me. Help us. Help the 12 year old Maria Jesus’ of the world. 

The book costs $20.

Do a really good fucking deed.