An anti-trafficking expert explains what the jury missed—and how you can help others learn what to look for

Part 1 of “The Diddy Verdict Wasn’t the End” series 

“From the moment I knew Diddy was being accused of sex trafficking, I thought: he won’t go to jail for it.” 

Mikayla Simeral’s prediction wasn’t cynicism—it was expertise. As Director of Training Advancement at Shared Hope International, she brings a unique perspective shaped by years of direct field experience working hands-on with survivors of domestic minor sex trafficking. Her background in social work, combined with her MA in Ethnomusicology, gives her a culturally competent lens for understanding how trafficking manifests across different communities—and how to train thousands of law enforcement officers, educators, and social workers to recognize what trafficking actually looks like in America. 

Unfortunately, she was right about Diddy. And the verdict reveals exactly why traffickers keep walking free. 

The Hollywood Myth  

During the trial, Simeral watched people on social media struggling with the charges, observing they “didn’t understand the sex trafficking charges” because trafficking, to them, meant “transporting people across borders.” 

“I actually chimed in and said, ‘No, someone does not need to be moved across a border for it to be considered trafficking,'” Simeral recalls. “There was an exchange of goods for sex acts. Whether they could say it was consensual or not consensual—that’s where it got messy.” 

This Hollywood-influenced understanding of trafficking—reinforced by films like “Taken” and “Sound of Freedom”—has created a dangerous blind spot. Under federal law, sex trafficking requires only that someone recruit, entice, harbor, transport, provide, obtain, or maintain a person for commercial sex through force, fraud, or coercion. No borders need to be crossed. No kidnapping need occur. 

“People think trafficking is like, ‘Oh, well, Diddy didn’t bring a bunch of girls across the border on a freighter,'” Simeral explains. “They didn’t understand the intricacies of how simple it can be in our country.” 

Power and Control 

The Diddy case represented a textbook example of how celebrity status transforms into a trafficking tool. “He’s potentially one of the most powerful hip-hop moguls in our culture,” Simeral notes. “Within the music industry, so many people wanted to be associated with him because they knew that could potentially launch their career.” 

This created what trafficking experts call the “power and control wheel.” People came forward describing an impossible choice: comply with Diddy’s demands or lose everything. 

“People would say, ‘Of course I would do anything he told me to do. If I crossed him, I’m out. There goes my career. There goes my potential in life,'” she explains. “[In the world of commercial music] When people are so starved for success and fame, a lot of people will do anything.” 

The Trauma Bond That Confuses Juries 

Perhaps no aspect of trafficking is more misunderstood than why victims defend their abusers. Simeral watched this play out in the Diddy case and has seen it countless times in her work with survivors. 

“A lot of jurors missed the intricacies of trauma bonding,” she explains. “Survivors, when they’re trauma bonded, will act “normal” with their offender because they don’t want to get in more trouble. They want to keep the trafficker as calm as possible so they don’t catch any heat.” 

This creates a devastating paradox: victims who appear compliant, even protective of their traffickers, are often those who have been most thoroughly controlled. During an interview about the intricacies of trauma-bonding, a survivor once told Simeral: “They can beat the mess out of you, but let them do one nice thing for you, and you melt.” 

Traffickers exploit this systematically, painting pictures of future success while isolating victims from other support systems. “They’re told, ‘We just have to push through, do these dates, make this money, then we’ll start a business, then we’ll start our dream life together,'” Simeral explains. For many victims, the trafficking relationship becomes their entire social world by the design of the trafficker.  

The Myth of Choice 

American culture’s emphasis on individual responsibility creates another barrier. Juries want to believe that adults engaging in commercial sex have made informed choices. 

“Americans want to say, ‘That’s your choice. You want to go have sex with people and party, that’s your choice,'” Simeral observes. But this fundamentally misunderstands trafficking. 

Drawing on her field experience, Simeral offers a powerful analogy: “There’s no waiver to get into trafficking. It’s not like they become an escort and there’s a competitive benefits package with a 401K, where they’re signing an employment agreement saying, ‘I consent to being beaten. I consent to having my nose broken, having sex with 20 people a day, and only keeping 10% of my wages.’ No one ever signs a waiver that says that.” 

Most adult survivors Simeral worked with entered the commercial sex industry as minors, often aging out of foster care with no other options. “They would say, ‘I want to go be an escort, Miss Mikayla, I want to go work at the club, because that’s all I know how to do. That’s all I know I’m good at.”  

What the Jury Missed That Every American Needs to Know 

Drawing from her training experience and direct work with trafficking survivors, Simeral emphasizes what juries consistently miss: the ability to see through surface-level compliance to the coercion beneath. 

“I knew all the girls I was working with were trafficked,” she concludes. “Even if a 15-year-old was defending her 35-year-old boyfriend, I knew better. I knew to ask the right questions.” 

When Simeral worked with young survivors, she didn’t accept explanations at face value. Instead, she asked probing questions: “Tell me more about your boyfriend. Where did you meet him? When was the first time you guys were intimate together? Did you want to be intimate with him?” These questions, informed by understanding trauma bonding and grooming patterns, revealed the truth that surface conversations concealed. 

This is the training gap that the Diddy jury exposed—the difference between what trained professionals recognize and what ordinary citizens understand about trafficking dynamics. 

The Solution: Education That Changes Outcomes 

“Every single person in America needs to be educated on what trafficking looks like in our country,” Simeral insists. “People see it as a distant problem, a foreign thing. Not so much here.” 

The reality is different. Digital technology has transformed how traffickers recruit victims. “Kids can meet an older person, they’re being recruited and groomed through a game, through apps. They think they’re in this safe, fun relationship, then they’re meeting up for dates, then they’re being sold to other people.” 

Without proper education, even well-intentioned jurors struggle to distinguish between consensual relationships and exploitative ones. 

The training programs that Simeral develops—like Shared Hope’s 90-minute “Exploited ” online course—draw from her micro-level experience working directly with survivors in Florida and her macro-level understanding of how to create culturally competent education. “If one day you find yourself on a jury with an abuser or offender, you would be able to recognize the signs and see through things that are presented as consensual,” she explains. 

From Verdict to Action 

“I felt powerless in the outcomes,” Simeral admits. “It’s very sad that now we’ve come to a point where the general public kind of feels like they can’t make a difference in holding offenders accountable.” 

But powerlessness isn’t the answer. The question isn’t whether trafficking is happening in communities across America—it’s whether those communities will be equipped to recognize it when they see it. 

“I would challenge people to push into it more and say, ‘What could this look like in my town, my state, my country?’ Do that to better protect young people in this next generation.” 

The Diddy verdict wasn’t the end—it was a wake-up call. The same education that could have changed this outcome is available to every American today. The recognition that trained professionals have—that trafficking hides in plain sight, that victims often protect their abusers, and that justice requires more than surface-level judgments—can be learned. 

Take Action: Be Part of the Solution 

🎓 Take the FREE Exploited Training
Shared Hope International’s 90-minute training teaches you to recognize trafficking in your community and understand what juries are missing. Perfect for parents, educators, community leaders, and anyone who wants to make a difference. https://store.sharedhope.org/product/exploited/ 

📚 Bring Resources to Your Community
Schools, libraries, and community centers need trafficking education materials. Contact Shared Hope International to learn how to introduce these life-saving resources to your local institutions. https://sharedhope.org/resources/ 

🎙️ Learn from the Experts
Watch Shared Hope’s Invading the Darkness podcast to hear directly from survivors and professionals, like Mikayla, who have trained thousands of individuals to recognize the signs of trafficking. These insights provide the context that transforms statistics into understanding.
https://invadingthedarkness.buzzsprout.com/1784950/episodes 

📊 Know Your State’s Progress
Get your state’s 2025 report card to see how your community measures up and where advocacy is needed most.
https://go.sharedhope.org/reportcards-facebook