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February 2nd, 2026
Written by: Amna Ahmad
Human trafficking is often imagined as a sudden crime, a dramatic moment. This does happen. At the same time, for many survivors, there is no clear beginning. There is no single moment when life sharply divides into before and after.
Instead, exploitation often grows quietly from overlapping situations that feel familiar: an abusive relationship, a period of financial instability, a need for connection, safety or belonging.
By the time trafficking is identified, the harm has often been unfolding for months or even years.
This is why trafficking can’t be understood in isolation. It exists within a broader ecosystem of harm, one shaped by violence, inequality and unmet needs. When we treat trafficking as a standalone crime instead of the outcome of overlapping risks, we miss early warning signs and opportunities to intervene sooner.
For many survivors, exploitation begins long before the word “trafficking” is ever used. It may start with a partner who becomes increasingly controlling or during a vulnerable time of need when someone offers support that turns into manipulation. What initially looks like care, protection, or opportunity can become a system of coercion that is difficult to name and even hard to exit.
Research consistently shows that these pre-existing risks create openings that traffickers exploit. Understanding how trafficking develops, not just when it’s discovered, allows us to respond earlier and more effectively.
For some survivors, the person harming them is someone they already know. Domestic and intimate partner violence share striking similarities with human trafficking: isolation, emotional manipulation, financial dependence, and control over daily life.
In these situations, exploitation can feel like a continuation of abuse rather than something different. Survivors may not recognize what’s happening as trafficking because the tactics are familiar: an escalation of power dynamics they have already learned to survive.
This overlap makes identification difficult. When exploitation is woven into existing relationships, survivors are less likely to seek help, and systems may mislabel and overlook the signs entirely, thereby “perpetuating a cycle of abuse that is difficult to escape.”
While both domestic violence and trafficking involve control and manipulation, the experiences differ. Domestic violence typically comes from someone the survivor knows, like a partner or family member, causing deep betrayal, fear, and loss of safety.
Trafficking—whether by a family member or intimate partner—adds layers of exploitation. Survivors may face repeated sexual and physical assaults, coerced labour, manipulation, and exposure to multiple perpetrators, creating constant fear, unpredictability, and complex trauma. The betrayal by trusted individuals intensifies the harm, combining the effects of abuse, exploitation, and severe psychological trauma that experts increasingly recognize as akin to torture.
And while both groups struggle with shame, fear, and self-blame, survivors of trafficking often face additional stigma and harmful assumptions, pushing them further into silence.
Online spaces are now one of the most common entry points to exploitation, particularly for young people. What often begins as attention, validation, or emotional support can gradually shift into grooming, manipulation, and abuse.
According to Statistics Canada, police-reported incidents of online child sexual exploitation increased by 59% between 2022 and 2023. These interactions frequently normalize harm long before exploitation is visible, blurring boundaries and creating a sense of obligation or fear that traffickers later exploit.
Online exploitation doesn’t always remain online. In many cases, it leads to ongoing coercion, in-person exploitation, or repeated abuse that becomes increasingly difficult to exit.
Economic instability is another powerful driver of exploitation. When people lack stable housing, income, or community support, their choices narrow. Offers framed as help such as a place to stay, a job, financial support, can mask exploitative intent.
Labour trafficking research shows how some employers use illegal tactics such as controlling identity documents, housing or legal status, as coercion tools to ensure compliance. As a result, leaving can feel impossible, and reporting the situation can carry serious risks.
In these contexts, exploitation is often mischaracterized as consent or choice. Survival strategies are judged rather than understood, further isolating survivors when they need support most.
Systemic vulnerabilities amplify these risks. Youth experiencing homelessness, for example, are at significantly higher risk of trafficking due to their visibility, isolation and lack of protection.
Emergency shelters, while designed to provide safety, can be seen as “hunting grounds” for traffickers who lure youth with promises that seem like the only way out. For those without consistent support, offers that feel " too good to be true” may feel like the only option.
When we focus solely on trafficking incidents, we ignore the long path that leads to exploitation. Early warning signs are often mislabeled: coercion as “bad choices” and survival-based exchanges as “prostitution.” These misinterpretations increase the likelihood that survivors will face stigma, discrimination, or even criminalization when they seek help.
For racialized communities and survivors with disabilities, these barriers are even higher. Studies have found they are more heavily scrutinized, less likely to be believed, and have less access to aftercare resources, preventing many from reaching out at all.
Real prevention happens long before exploitation is visible. It involves strengthening protective factors like stable house, supportive relationships, access to income, and a sense of belonging.
Studies show that approaches rooted in cultural humility and anti-oppressive practices (AOP) help bridge gaps between systems and lived experience. They create space for open and honest conversations about how different social and political systems shape risk, allowing support to reach people before they are labelled “high risk.”
Human trafficking isn’t an anomaly. It’s a symptom of broader social inequalities, and addressing those intersecting harms is how exploitation is reduced.
Awareness matters and real prevention requires more than recognition. It requires changing the conditions that allow trafficking to take root in the first place.
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