MS: Feeling seen doesn’t always mean feeling heard
On the day I was diagnosed, I almost immediately fell into denial. “Who? Me? MS? Sure, I thought it would be worse! Nah... Let’s have dinner!” The friend with me at the hospital understood I needed a calm space, best found over Italian food with friends who already knew my journey would need more than just a gentle landing. Denial is easy to slip into when everything around you falls apart and time and space haven't caught up yet."
To my brother, gone 19 years too many
I still miss your quiet support when you guided me when I needed strength. You were more than a brother; you were my first hero, a steady presence in my life, an unspoken promise that you’d always have my back.
You would have been 50 today
It would have been a god-damn extraordinary 50 years if your heart and mind had been allowed to live.
Fourteen MS years and counting
Thank you for listening to whispers of fear and despair when life seemed all but lost in translation.
Christmas… rescheduled!
Sometimes life just throws tantrums and curveballs because of your illness – missing out on Christmas with my nieces and uncle at the very last minute is just one of those moments. But then you realise that your family’s love, acceptance and support will keep you going long after the Christmas holidays, no matter what. Instead of Father Christmas giving you presents, they want him to take away your sorrow. They know that Christmas can’t be bought in a store, but instead is given in invisible mountains of love. They feel your anguish and wished they could take your physical pain from you. They root for you, uplift you and guide you. You feel empowered by them being there, even when divided by country borders. You know they believe you,…
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…
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.
