13!
Thirteen years ago today I moved to Ireland. A teenage dream turned reality. Little did I know that 2,5 years later, my life would be transformed in a way I had never imagined. Still, there are no regrets, and where anger could have lived, none is left for two chronic illnesses that could easily have been my downfall. Not one to dwell on issues past, I never allowed myself to live in Oscar Wilde’s famous gutter for a long period. When he said, “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars,” I realise I still am that stargazer, that dreamer, someone who loves Irish history and sociology, nature and literature, photography and psychology. I also still believe in historical and moral justice, a dreamer…
Proud
Mum, I’m a very proud daughter. The way you overcame many obstacles in your life before, during and after your pregnancy with me, made you into a woman who stands up for herself, who is very funny, intelligent and simply, a good soul. We often tell one another how proud we are of each other, and I cannot think of a better person to be my mum. You are my confidante, my best friend and my rock. Sometimes I wished I could give you the joy of being a grandmother. Sometimes I wished you could see me in a wedding dress. You would be quite OK with me wearing a feathery knee-length wedding dress matched with my tall, black Dr Martens boots. I know you would defend my alternative choice…
10 Lessons I’ve Learned in 2014
"Don’t change because others tell you to, just be that limited edition that you know you truly are. Don’t be afraid to break the mould."
Identity crisis
WordPress Daily Prompt: Say your name Write about your first name: Are you named after someone or something? Are there any stories or associations attached to it? If you had the choice, would you rename yourself? Photographers, show us YOU.” My name is a story of yes versus no, of not liking it, to being very recognizable because of it. It’s a story filled with confusion. When I was born, my mum wanted me to be called ‘Maya’. However, when my biological father returned from the registry office, he walked in waving my birth certificate at her, mentioning the name ‘Willeke.’ Ouch.
Ireland, still here
"Ireland is still the protagonist in my life that runs away with its stories, and drags me along in its clear chants and rebel songs. I hear tears falling on the sound of uilleann pipes; I feel the waves when I read Seamus Heaney’s ‘Lovers on Aran’. I’ve walked with James Joyce and listened to William Butler Yeats. It feels as if my heart came home. In my mind, I was already part of Ireland."
How to wrap friendship
Friends reply less when words fall between the cracks of self-censorship. When they decide to stay away, it’s up to us to never think any less of the friends who stay away. I consider it a justified reaction. I’m also on the other side of the scale where I chose to stay away from certain people because of their words.
Under-caffeinated writer. Please help.
"Ah ladies and lads, you know I can be a bit kooky at times; hell, I can even get a little annoyed as well when things don’t go my way. I therefore won’t do it on this page. At all."
