I had just started to hit puberty when my grandmother called me over.

“If you see a spot or two of blood on your underwear one day, don’t be afraid. Come and tell me right way and I’ll tell you what to do. This happens to girls, it’s a good thing that means you’ve started to become a young woman. It happens to us all,” she said.

When I mention my profession as a case worker with women in prostitution, all I get are clear question marks on people’s faces. Exclamation marks follow when I mention my regular visits to Hbeish police station in Beirut and my continuous conversations with women detained for prostitution.

Spoken and unspoken questions follow their wondering and surprise.