Life has its ways of surprising you. I just had a really nice conversation with someone over the phone. Who knows. I just might get to know him better. I might not be ready for dating at all and if it is the right person, maybe I am. We’ll see.

My study feels a little intimidating but at the same time I’m taking the right steps. I’m asking for feedback and I did my best to find an internship that suits me. I am also maintaining contact with my family and friends. I’m trying out new recipes and so are friends of mine. I’m trying to take care of my plants. I took a friend out and we went plant shopping. It was a great day.

I have finished the book that Mark Manson wrote. I find it quite thought provoking. I am happy to have gathered a group of friends around me that thinks for themselves and is willing to have a conversation about their thoughts too. It makes the dinner parties much more interesting. Plus, there is also a good amount of laughter.

I am not sleeping as much as I would like, but you never know. It just might come. Taking life step by step. It’s dark outside. I’m playing instrumental music and the candles are lit. My niece told me having candles lit isn’t good for you. She must be right. Apparently, I am not taking her advice… Maybe I need more little lamps with yellow lighting? Hmm. I’ll think about it.

I like that others take care of each other. It’s what keeps us together isn’t it? I don’t really believe we’re here to live our lives all by ourselves. In togetherness comes the interesting bit.

Take care and talk to you later alligator! Hope you are doing well wherever you are ❤

I’ve just been on a trip to Budapest. I went there to meet up with my neighbour who is traveling around Europe. I wanted something to do this holiday and more importantly: I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t know that would entail chasing my neighbour all the way to Budapest and taking three shots while I decided not to drink anymore and most of the time just feeling exhausted. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful view over the river Donube. I also enjoyed an absolutely huge bar with writings all over each wall and colourful lamps everywhere. It made my own city feel very small and not that creative or interesting while we do have a few interesting spots. Things my neighbour didn’t even know about. But overall, I do question my trip. My moms are not happy about me flying at all. They very much care about the environment. They are right and I still end up going on these trips. I did buy a book which seems to help me a lot. It’s: ‘The subtle are of not giving a f*ck’. It’s not what it title says though. To me it’s about what to care about and questioning your values. I’ve had that book for almost four days and I’ve nearly finished it. I’m very invested in it. Nearly devoured it hahahaha.

It made me think about my life. And I was already thinking about my life. I’ve decided to write a blogpost every week for a year. I’m curious what will happen. This to me will be my ‘book’. The ‘so-called’ book I’ve always wanted to write. I’ve decided that I shouldn’t care and maybe don’t care if it is shitty or not but that I do care about writing it.

So here I am, back at home in the Netherlands in my little city on my own sofa. It’s October and it’s cold and dark. I’ve put all the candles on and I’ve put my robe over my clothes. I’ll probably put a blanket over me soon too. When I look around I enjoy the lighting. It’s very yellow. It’s small fires everywhere and two cute lamps. One is of the world and the other is an egg-shaped lamp made out of mosaic and it has a variety of blue colours but the lighting is yellow. It was a journey to find that lighting. I marvelled at the lighting in Budapest and so did my neighbour Eli. There were old lanterns and the lighting was yellow and the parliament building was lit up beautifully. There also was a monument for the second world war. You walked down this path. It was a bit narrow and at the end was a flame. It was quite dark and unnerving. If you looked at the walls you would see names written on them. There were bricks that would stick out and once you reached the flame and looked back at the path, the bricks were lit up. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a piece of art to me. I interpreted as giving the people a light shone on to them and a experience for everyone who sees it and something to talk about.

I don’t know why I ended up telling two people I’ve never met before that I lost my parents. Apparently, it is on my mind. They’d say I’m sorry. But I wasn’t even looking for that response. I just wanted to tell them something about my life or how I view the world or how I feel empathy for others and that I wish others would too. When I see a monument and we got talking about the war and then about refugees, it reminded me of something my therapist told me which was: ‘What you’ve been through is comparable to what refugees go through’. Somehow it felt like a validation of how hard my youth was for me. From the age of six I never knew who I belonged to. It could be my mom, a foster home, a family member, an orphanage, a friend or maybe to me: no one. I can feel it in my stomach while writing this. I remember learning a whole new language without my mother. Moving country and having no clue what was going on or why. My mom was mentally sick and my dad wasn’t in my life. All I knew for sure is that my mom loved me. She would write me cards and give me expensive gifts and once she felt better, she took care of me again. She would bring me to school and she would play games with me, cook, listen endlessly and dance with me, play basketball with me, write poetry with me and draw with me. Then suddenly there she was on the floor. I tried putting water in her mouth. I tried blowing air in her mouth. I was twelve. I had never seen a dead person before. That’s when my life became uncertain once more of who I belonged to. I was at the police station at 12 and didn’t know where I was going to sleep. I stayed at family and for three years at a friend of my mom and finally I got a new family. My two moms. You’d think happy end. But I guess where I’d never had to question whether my mom loved me or belonged to me, it feels different with foster moms. Luckily, I do know that they love me. I guess I also belong to them and they to me but sometimes I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder how much alike I am as them or whether their actions mean that they love me or care about me. It makes my teary eyed right now just writing this. And it’s weird because I know they care and sometimes they just have their own priorities. I wish I would care more about them too. That would include knowing when they are on holiday or knowing a birthday from the top of my head or knowing what exactly is going on in their work/personal life but I guess sometimes they don’t know everything about my life either and maybe that’s okay. Maybe that isn’t a way of measuring whether somebody cares about you or not. I do believe that it is a relationship that we work on and we share very precious moments together. Moments where I really needed them and moments like a good meal together. Good talks and hugs. I am grateful for having my two moms. They have done their best to guide me into adulthood.

I’m nearly turning 30. Maybe not so young adult anymore then. It feels like pressure. As if you’re supposed to know everything and that you have your life all figured out. I suppose we are all figuring life out along the way. That’s why questioning things is so good, which I’ve learnt from the book that Mark Manson wrote and maybe also a little bit from mindfulness. That helps me to be less judgemental and to care about my energy and what that means for others and practice thinking about gratitude and writing it down.

For today I’m grateful for:

I am grateful that I wrote this blog. It gave me such an insight in what caring actually means.

I am grateful that I reflected on my trip and that I do see what was important for me on this trip and that was learning about history and about myself.

I am grateful for reading the book ‘The subtle art of not giving a f*ck’ and reflecting on it and it giving me inspiration.

Maybe writing three things down that you are grateful for every day might help you realise what you are grateful for and you might get to experience more of it. At least that’s what the Headspace app taught me. I revisit some topics often such as appreciation.

There is one more thing that I am just wondering about. What does belonging mean? When do you belong to someone? Maybe you just do even though you are different. And everyone just gets to be themselves.

I am very happy that I am celebrating my thirtieth birthday and that I am also inviting all of my family. I feel a lot of anxiety around family. There is a real fear of whether I belong with them or not. But I guess they are stuck with me and so am I with them. Whether we like it or not and whether we are biological family or not and whether we feel close to each other or not and I will try and be a good family member. Make the best out of it by showing up to family events and throwing a family event now and then because family is important. It’s not something that just always is magically there.

I also really feel a sense of belonging wth friends. There is one friend I can call in any situation or it doesn’t matter how I am feeling. He accepts me for who I am and he has a very calming presence. I’ve met a lot of people along the way. I’m happy that I did. I really wish some things would’ve worked out and other things were just the way they went. I’ve learnt lessons along the way. I guess family is just a thing that I belong to and I choose to belong to as do I belong to my friends. We all choose each other in the end. Very special.