My name is Red Hood. Okay, you probably remember me as Little Red Riding Hood, but that name is no longer fitting because I am now 42 years old.

I have recently completed years of therapy to help me cope with the traumatic childhood incident involving the so-called Big Bad Wolf—whose trickery nearly cost me my life. Those years of therapy, along with my husband’s understanding, have given me the strength I needed to speak publicly about how my life has turned out.

I’m sure you know my dreadful case. There are countless books printed about the nightmare event of my childhood. Sadly, I have made no money from any of these publications and have instead been 100 percent exploited. I find it deeply repulsive that illustrated children’s storybooks exist about this event. How horrifying is that? A lawyer is currently working on my behalf to rightfully secure some of the proceeds from the books and movies that monetized my trauma while leaving me to struggle financially.

Money is rather sparse these days, which is why I’ve agreed to write this article. At last, I will receive some financial compensation. I am also under contract for an upcoming docudrama, in which my husband will be featured as well.

I remain an object of curiosity. People always want to know what became of me. So let me offer you a glimpse into my current life.

I am now a middle-aged woman, and I still live in the woods. My legal name was officially changed from Little Red Riding Hood to Red Hood on my twentieth birthday. In her will, my grandmother left me her small cottage. Before moving in, I hired a security company to install high-tech security systems and cameras. I take no chances.

You may recognize the familiar illustrations of me at age ten, with blonde curls and a red hooded cloak. I grew into a fairly attractive woman. My hair has dulled over the years, so I use professional products to dye it a youthful golden blonde. I’m of average height. My wardrobe includes many colors, though I admit I still have a weakness for the color that shares my name: red.

I no longer wear a cape—it’s a terribly impractical garment. My favorite piece of clothing is a red hoodie with a front zipper and deep pockets. Appearance has always mattered to me. I pay attention to what suits me best, and I’ve discovered that my legs look especially nice in heels. I hate to admit it, but I’ve indulged in the purchase of many pairs of striking red high heels. You might say I’ve perfected the art of walking in them. My husband claims this is pure vanity, but he smiles and winks whenever I show him a new pair.

I had several relationships, but marriage never crossed my mind until I met someone who truly understood childhood trauma. My husband is the brother of my close friend Gretel. His name is Hansel. Hansel and I are both proud of ourselves for overcoming deeply painful experiences. Like my story, Hansel and Gretel’s lives have also been turned into storybooks.

Hansel appreciates my decorating style. He wanted nothing to do with a home that resembled a stereotypical gingerbread house. Recently, we had a photographer take a portrait of us in our cozy cottage. Hansel looks handsome in his lederhosen, and I look lovely in a form-fitting red dress paired with my red heels.

But appearances only matter so much. What truly defines us is the advocacy work Hansel and I support. As victims of crime and as children whose lives were exploited for profit, we are deeply involved in legal efforts to protect other children. Hansel holds a law degree, and his firm specializes in—and actively tries—these cases. You may have seen his firm’s advertisements on television: the ones celebrating victories on behalf of Jack (also known as Jack of Beanstalk fame) and Pinocchio, who is, in fact, a real boy.

Sadly, we did not prevail in the highly publicized trial on behalf of Peter Pan. Hansel hopes to appeal the decision. These cases have severely depleted our limited financial resources—but the work is vital.

That is why we ask for your help.

First, please stop telling children about our misfortunes as though they are harmless bedtime entertainment. We are real people with real pain.

Second, we urge you to donate to the Red Hood Foundation. Your contribution is tax-deductible and will help us continue to litigate and win cases that protect children. For every $500 donation, you will receive a red hoodie from us. For a $100 donation, you will receive a red coffee mug featuring our photograph.

Show that you care about children. Donate generously.

After all, we are fighting for every child’s chance to live happily ever after. We long for a world free of monsters—whether they are wolves in disguise, giants who smell the blood of Englishmen, or witches who lure children with candy so they can eat them.

Help us stop these atrocities.

Thank you for your support.

Disclaimer: Only 10% of donated funds will be used to purchase fashion items such as my red hoodies.