Category: writer’s life

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Let me tell you

a little bit more about me. About me as a parent.

As a reader (old or new) you probably know by now that I am a mom of three teenagers. My son is 18, my daughters are 14 and 13. My youngest daughter is a lot like me and sometimes, it bothers me. She is so empathetic that she’d rather neglect herself than stand up for herself and I want to teach her that her own wants and needs on life are valid. She is very open with me and (for now) shares every little thing with me and when she doesn’t share, I can always guess her mood. I am not the kind of mom who insists on talking, I give her the space she needs, and I am there when she needs something else. Like yesterday. She seemed a bit down and tired when she came home from school and so, we cuddled on the couch with our lunch, sharing a blanket and watching reruns on TV all afternoon long. (From little house on the prairie to Baywatch to diagnosis murder and forged in fire). We spent hours not talking much but being in each other’s presence. She he had her head in my lap and I massaged her scalp… It was very meditative. Very nice. Those moments will become less and less in the next months, I am aware if that, that’s why I enjoy and savour them as long as they last.

I wouldn’t say that I am a perfect parent, far from it. But from the things that I see, our way of being a family is not the worst. My kids are intelligent, empathetic, polite, headstrong, they know how to listen… They can also be lazy, sloppy, withdrawn… But they are always respectful and they each have a great sense of humour. We laugh a lot. Out connection and the way we are outside, affectionate and humourous, often makes people look at us weirdly. I’d like to know what they think… But then again, I don’t care. I love my kids with every fiber of my being.

Yeah, my kids are a big part of me. I would not be who I am without them. And sometimes, I wish I had had the mom they have now. Not to praise myself too much, but for someone who did not have any parental figures and suffered emotional abuse and blackmail as a child, I am doing pretty ok. I am proud of them. Of us.

You know, I could write more about them, add anecdotes and stories or share memories, but I won’t. I want to protect their privacy. Why write about them at all? Because I am a proud mom and for every lamenting post I share, there are these prideful moments happening offline.

And while I wrote this, I kept thinking that I wanted/needed to add the following: my kids are a big part of me (I mentioned it above), but that doesn’t mean that kids are for everyone. Being child free is a choice I can absolutely understand too and I respect it wholeheartedly. And another thought I had while writing this post was: hopefully this will not hurt anyone who does not have kids but wants them. I am sorry if it hurt you.

I don’t think I writing all too often about my kids, and I certainly don’t want to shove my lifestyle down anyone’s throat. You see, from the beginning, from falling pregnant for the first time at 21, nothing was ever easy. Material things were always a struggle and a challenge, but emotions and affections : they were always real and true. I never regretted being a mom. And I never feared being a mom either. I am growing with them. Everyday. And that is a nice feeling.

My current job allows to be home a lot. I am quite present as a parent, something which was not always possible with the jobs I had. I savour every moment of it. Even more so when. The result is a cozy afternoon like the one I spent yesterday with Amalia.

Parenting is sometimes hard. Evermore so when life is not too kind or when your mind is a liar, like mine. But parenting is also very rewarding. Try being your authentic self around your children, they will benefit from it and the bond you will share will be that much tighter. Trust yourself. Either with or without children, trust in yourself and be proud of all the obstacles you put behind you. You’ve got this. One day at a time.

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words and thoughts

I happened to browse older posts today and noticed that many people who used to engage and interact have vanished. Some went slowly, not showing up as often anymore until one day, they forgot about this place (or just had enough of this writer), other announced their departure weeks before they deleted or deactivated their blogs. I only know of two who passed away.

It is weird but also normal that we fade out of other lives. Lives change, circumstances change and what once felt important is not important anymore.

I used to write novel-length stories, I know there must be some left in me, but the truth is, I haven’t taken the time to focus on developing a fictional story since I started work in 2016. Between 2012 and 2016 I wrote so much and I had fun doing it too. I had no expectations and just did it for fun and for me. I was more careless in that I didn’t care too much about grammar or plotholes or typing mistakes. (if you read a post I wrote without a typo, mark your calendars, because it is an absolute rarity). I just wrote. I kind of lost that and I think one reason is because I am overthinking too much. You see, back then I didn’t need to be anywhere and my life only revolved about motherhood. I didn’t need to keep an eye on the clock or anything like that; yes, I was freer and my world was a lot smaller back then too. I got up and wrote, then my kids woke up and I spent my undivided time with them and when they took their naps, I went back to writing or engaging with other writers. It’s all that I did. My social life was non-existent. And as I said, my world was very small. I never want to go back to that time. I like where I am now. I like the things I learned along the way and the memories I made. I simply miss how easy it was to be creative and to simply sit down to write.

There were times when I wrote several poems daily, that too has lessened considerably. Did my muse leave my mind? Is my mind not troubled enough anymore? Did I stop dreaming? Did I forget how to put myself in someone else’s shoes? I have no answers to those questions. I didn’t spend enough time with those thoughts to overthink them. They are silent questions, not tormenting ones.

And yet… I try to write something daily, even if it is stupid stuff about me or very short scenes like “Lost in you” was. I challenge myself to find something to say. I want to share words and thoughts. It’s what I do, right? These short scenes are often inspired by music or movies; a sentence I read or heard. I never know what will come out of my fingers when I decide that it is time for a post. I am as surprised as you. The only thing that is always true is that there is music. There is always music in my ears when I write. Sometimes with words, sometimes only melodies, but always music. Inspired by music.

I still write this blog for myself mostly, but it seems as if I am not sharing as much anymore. Is all said about me? Am I boring myself and you?

As I am getting older, I notice that I am fading out of lives too. I don’t engage as much because I keep thinking that most things don’t need my commentary – but comments is a way to be seen, being seen is a way of drawing attention, drawing attention brings followers, and followers bring pressure to give them something interesting to see. And here, my old friend self-doubt shows up: is there even anything interesting about me, and why should I allow myself to take up more space than I already do, and why should I allow anyone to “waste” their time by reading my words? (this word is too strong, but the right one escapes me at the moment)

I am loyal, but I am not constant. I still read blogs I read years ago, but less often. Instead of visiting daily, I visit weekly and catch up on everything I missed. (while I wrote weekly, I noticed that it might also be bi-monthly) and I am sorry that I am not as supportive as I used to be anymore. I could surly find some shallow excuses for this, but the truth is, I don’t spend as much time online as I used to and simply forget to check what others do. I sound so full of myself and self-absorbed. I hate this and I am very sorry.

I miss the old carefree days. I was naive back then and had no idea about anything much. I even thought that I knew a lot about music. I definitely don’t. I know what I like and what pulls at my heart-strings, but I don’t know anything else and I don’t pretend to know good music. Not anymore.

There are people who think that I am still the same. They try to manipulate and get what they want with sweet words and heart emojis. And some times; I allow it. Other times, I don’t. I see their lies. Anyway… they are not worth the words or the thoughts.

Words and thoughts. They remind me of a person I met on a site called Wattpad. I used to share all my writing there, but deleted my accounts (I had one for my poetry and one for my novel-length stories) a while ago. I met many people there, but only stayed in touch with one of them over the years. I think it must be around 10 years now, but I am not sure. I just know that they are in my thoughts daily and every time their name pops up in my inbox, it makes me smile. Who knows what the future brings, but I am very happy they are still around. ❤ I remember that I received messages warning me about them and that they were playing games and all that. I still have to laugh about it because I never met anyone who is more real and true to themselves as they are. And I like. It’s grounding.

As for the rest, maybe there is a time for everything. And maybe some times come back again and again, while others just fizzle out.

This blog has been a part of me since 2012. I had the chance to read many beautiful comments and reactions to my posts, and am I grateful to the people who come by daily to see what went on in my head in that particular moment. Because let’s be honest: everything I write is impulsive and thoughts I have now may be forgotten in an hour. What you read on your screen is a reflection of who and how I was during that precise moment.

Right now, I have a headache and a sore throat, I am tired, but I am also at peace and content. I am in love with my husband, who had a birthday yesterday, and I feel loved by my awesome kids and my friends. My job is a lot of fun, but I am grateful that it is weekend and that I can relax some. I am in a good mental state. And that’s all I can ask for.

Thank you for your presence in my life. Maybe you think that I don’t see you, but I do. I see you.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=96V7olylxyM%3Fsi%3DQXuz9LODeJPMYoBe
in this life there is no quick fix or easy answers

Remember that your unique perspective and experiences are valuable, so continue sharing them authentically.

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Just a selfie

I was kissed by the sun

It’s not often that I post selfies anymore… But hi, it’s me. A little more than two weeks before my job starts. I have many many questions and no answers. But that’s how life goes, right? With music in my ears and a (mediocre) book in my lap, I keep enjoying the last of the summer sun. (and scratching my mosquito bites… Argh)

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It’s autobiographical… Part 1

Right about it. Write about it. Write about it. Write about it. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to anyone but you. Just write it all out. Because you are a writer. And you know the words. You know the words. Even if you cannot say them. They are all there. They say you are deep and intelligent and mysterious. But you know you are not. You know it very well. And whenever you deny what they are saying, they reply that you are undervaluing yourself. Whatever you do, you cannot win. That’s one reason why you keep things to yourself. Not to be mysterious or enigmatic; you just cannot share certain things. The words are there, but they have no voice. There is no fight anymore, no reason to be loud and to raise what is left of your voice. There is no reason to defend yourself. Not if no one knows. Or if they only know vague fragments of a past long gone. Long gone on the calendar. But very present in your mind. Every day. Day after day after night after night. And they tell you that you don’t know pain and that you don’t know hurt. They tell you that you don’t know soul crushing sorrow. But you do. You keep living with it. Every day. Day after day after night after night. And it never leaves your side. Even when it gets quieter, it never goes away. But what exactly is it? What makes breathing and being and existing so hard sometimes? The past does. The future too. Anxiety. Expectations. Experiences. You have suffered for a short time, and yet, it fucked up everything that came after that. It gave everything an acid taste. Normalcy. That’s a foreign word for you. You know many languages, are fluent in all of them, but normalcy – no, that’s a word you don’t know. Write it. Write it. Right it. He told you to tell it all out. He demanded you dig up the memories that keep scratching at the edge of your sanity. Insanity. He asked you to open your wounds and let them bleed on a sheet, saying that it would free you from the suffering. Can you do that? Can you reach into your soul and give these grey and forgotten memories colour? All you want is peace and closure. Why is it so hard? And why does it get harder every year? You are used to the silence, and you are used to being your only supporter. Nothing can change that. Not even the cold facts of childhood trauma. It’s not right. It’s not right. It is simply not right. You were the parent, aged 4. You had to take care of a sick mom, were emotionally blackmailed into becoming a submissive kid like that. Silent. Because in a house filled with adults an unwanted child had to be silent and invisible. An unwanted child – that you were. The words keep coming back again and again. You are the reason your mother is sick and was unable to take medication. You are a waste of skin and not worth the air you breathe. You should not have been born at all. It would have been better for everyone. You are too stupid to kill yourself. Yeah, those are just some things you regularly and repeatedly heard as a child and young adult. And now that you are grown-up, a middle-aged woman, they still haunt you from time to time. Because even now, after many many years, you keep wondering if those words were right. Back then, you did not react to the insults. You couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to use your voice or your words. It turned you into an adult who let’s other people step over you, and you are unable to reply to them. All it does is bringing back memories and it makes you shut down. You build walls to protect yourself. But inside those walls is a lonely place. And there lives that voice that keeps repeating those ugly evil words. Only very few people get the chance to remove a brick or two and see the fragile you. The one that is able to trust. The inability to trust is often mistaken for being cold or unemotional ,disinterested even. You are anything but. There are explosions of emotions rattling your walls regularly. Internal screaming matches with yourself. And a pain that is almost unbearable. During those moments, old coping mechanism lure you back in. Self-harm. Cutting, hurting yourself, watching yourself bleed. Self-sabotage. Not taking your meds. Drinking and smoking too much, eating junk food that makes you sick. If you had been shown some affection as a kid, you would have learnt to love yourself. But you the adults in your life showed nothing but disdain. You were not right. Not loveable. And there was no reason to show love or pride. Instead you took care of the person you would have needed most: your mom. You were told to take care of her daily hygiene and if you dared to speak up, saying that doing this or that was too hard, you were told you didn’t love her enough or that you weren’t trying hard enough. You were a small kid. It all started when you were 4. Helping her to the toilet. Getting her undressed. Waiting until she was finished. Helping her wipe and getting dressed again. Cleaning after her. Bringing whatever was not in reach. Meds included. And you didn’t understand. You didn’t understand why she was crying so much when you were doing your best to make her life easier. A bit later, to the daily hygiene of washing her, feeding her was added. Getting her in and out of bed. Preparing her meds daily. Meeting friends was out of question. Now you know that there were a couple of reasons for that. One: if you only saw kids in school you couldn’t find out that you were being treated differently. Abused would be the right word. But even now, it is not easy to admit it. Neglected. That’s another word. Because while you were helping your mother with her hygiene, no one ever told you that you needed to take care of your own body and your own needs too. You had to learn it on your own. In a house full of adults, no one taught you how to brush your teeth. Or to swim. Or to ride a bike. And a second reason why you were not allowed to have friends was so that you were at all times available to cater to everyone’s needs. When you were 8, you received an old battered radio. It became your first escape to that music world. Books were added later on, but you had to buy them for yourself. You did have a game boy though and you spent hours playing Tetris or Super Mario. Your only games. It didn’t matter, they helped in hiding from the world. You know well that these few unemotional words don’t explain the pain that still resides in your soul. It is just so very hard to find the right words to tell your story. If it was fiction, you would embellish here or there, but this is your real life. A life where when you had pneumonia (age 7), you were told to stop coughing because it was annoying. You had to lie down for two weeks and you had a fever for a long while. You remember that the doctor told the adults that they should have brought you in earlier, but you can’t remember their reaction. Just stop coughing already. It’s one reason why you hate people touching your ears, as stupid as it sounds. You ears hurt when you were ill, you had drops put in and it was not in an affectionate manner. However, an uncle got you books as a present, it was the start of your love for words and books.

❤️💜🖤💚💙💛🩶🤍🧡🩵

And then the mood changed for the better and the writing mood was gone… 1355 words… Unrevised… I should read and edit, but I don’t want to go through the emotions I felt when I wrote this piece, which is indeed autobiographical.

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if I sat down to write…

I set some time aside to write. I sat down, got ready, and as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard I noticed that there weren’t any words. The words and thoughts were gone, and I had no idea where they hid.

I sighed and cleared my throat uncomfortably, but there were still no words in my fingers and even less in my mind.

They had left me. They had left me like people left once in a while.

How do best friends turn into strangers? And can a small fight be the end of a relationship? I began to wonder and there were too many thoughts all of a sudden. They were overflowing my mind and overwhelming me with such force that I forgot how to blink and how to breathe. This resulted in a coughing fit and tears streaming down my face. I was a sight to behold. I tried to remember what I was thinking, but as much as I tried, the thought was gone again.

Maybe there was something wrong with me after all. A lack of knowledge how to love and an inexperience to live – or die. Maybe I didn’t have a clue about friendships and relationships. Maybe I was too cold to feel anything. Or maybe I was too selfish and too egoistical. And maybe that was why there weren’t any words left to write.

Back when I was less tired and more forgiving, I had been more empathetic towards everyone. This also meant that I found reasons and excuses for people to hurt or use me and I allowed it. I had friends who liked that and took advantage of that.

I wasn’t a mysterious girl, I didn’t have secrets – even if people didn’t believe me. I was too lazy to have secrets and too chatty to keep them. I could be quiet and silent and I knew how to keep other’s secrets to myself. They weren’t anyone’s business anyway. It was a reason why I would never badmouth anyone after a break-up. They had their reasons, even if I didn’t understand them at that moment in time.

Wait! How did I get here and how do I get out?

The story and the poem I had thought were stored in my fingers weren’t there. I sat there empty-handed. Overwhelmed. Underwhelmed. Whelmed. So much was said and too much stayed unsaid.

I wrote it all, painfully aware that the many letters and sentences and words and paragraphs I left for everyone to read would never touch anyone’s eyes. Anyone? That’s not true. But not the ones who need to read what is aimed at them.

I cleared my throat again. Nothing of substance, nothing that mattered pooled on the keyboard. Maybe it was the lack of music in my ears. Maybe it was the hole in my heart that was like a black hole, sucking everything in. Maybe I was a villain without knowing and noticing it.

Does speaking one’s mind make that person a villain? Does calling out a friend make them a bad friend or person?

Whatever this is and wherever it came from, it seems to be my fate. My sentences come out too cryptic to mean anything at all, I thought to myself; this is why they think I have dark secrets.

The truth is: I am just tired to be who you want me to be, dear Stranger. I am myself and if that means calling out your manipulative ways, well, then tough luck. I love and care about you, but I am not a personal ATM and I am not there to support every dumb or stupid thing you do.

There, I wondered. Was there another letter to a Stranger in my subconscious? I pushed that thought away as soon as it had appeared. I had grown out of that phase a long while ago.

If only I knew how be kinder when I needed to be. And if only I had words when I felt like I was born to be silent.

If only and what if…

But I don’t believe in regrets and never did. And I still believe that everything happens for a reason. That people are in our lives when we need them and not when we want them. And that everything we experience is a lesson for the future – good or bad, there is no time and no place for regrets and guilt or shame.

I closed the lid of my laptop, unaware of the words I had just spilled onto my screen. After pushing the publish-button, I simply closed the lid and stopped thinking at all. No re-writing. No editing or proof-reading. I gave up. On myself and everything surrounding me. My mind became blank. As if it was empty. Everything good in me was flowing out through that dark hole in my soul and in my heart.

Fullstop.

💜🩷❤️🖤🩶🤍🧡💛💚🩵💙

It took these 818 words 23 minutes to be written

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Author’s dictionary

As of last Friday, my profile was added to the luxembourgish author’s dictionary. I am very proud about that, I have to say.

The link is only in German or French so far, but I’ll leave it here anyway:

Author’s dictionary

“Her poems are inspired by music and various song lyrics. They explore the soul’s landscape and the lyrical self. They deal with the search for ideal love, a personal journey and a valuable life.”

💜🩵💚💛🧡🩷🤍🩶🖤🤎❤️💜

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Another

Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

Nothing, always something… More than that. Nothing at all.

Yup, this is what went through my head this instant.

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Prompt

Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

There were a couple of those encounters in my life.

There was the time two strangers hugged me. One November night in Brussels. After a concert of the absolute awesome band Her Name is Calla. They played a brilliant set. Took pics with fans and gave autographs. They were stars that night. And even though they had invited me for the gig, I was almost certain that I was forgotten after the show… I told the story of Adam and Tom often. It is one of the most important encounters of my adult life. To these strangers, I was a music lover, I was a woman, I was Cathy. I was not reduced to being the mom of, the partner of… I was just me. And they liked that person. They had drunk and laughed and sung with that person. An entire night long. And at the end of that night, they hugged me. Here comes the sentence I always write or mention: they hugged me so tightly that some broken pieces of my soul found a way back together. Cheesy? Maybe. But it is the truth for sure.

There was the time I spent a weekend with two strangers. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. In a good way. A very good way. I am not sure I would drive to the Netherlands like this again. But I did that weekend. I celebrated a birthday with them. And we had some very awesome days. Things happened that didn’t happen since. Which makes it all the more special. If I had just been less weird that weekend we would probably still be in touch. But, no need for regrets, I made those once in a lifetime memories. I will never forget.

And there was that time when I told a homeless addict the time and he treated me as if I had just given him a million bucks. I remember that moment very well. I was late for a job interview and this man approached me. I was almost certain he would ask for money, but he asked for the time. I told him and his face lit up. He then told me that he had asked several people and they had all ignored him. He also told me that they had all looked through him as if he didn’t exist. His expression became sad. He thanked me for having helped him out and for having held eye contact with him. Apparently, he was not used to that anymore. This certainly stuck with me.

It’s all me me me, but those or just 3 encounters that stayed with me and changed something inside of me. How about you? ❤️

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The future of the past

When I was a teenager, I must have been twelve years old, my grandma told me “you are not worth the air you are breathing”. It’s 28 years later, and those words still get stuck in my mind again and again. Some days, they make me sad. Other days, they make me angry. She told me that she regretted the day that I was born and that I didn’t deserve the space I took up. That woman was the closest to a mother I had because my own mother was not able to be a parent. How can someone say words like that to a kid?

Because of words like that, I feel unlovable most days. Rationally, I know that she was wrong, and yet, what if she wasn’t?

Love was never free when I grew up. Love and affection were not shown in any way. Instead, guilt trips, being ignored – those things happened every day. To this day, I believe that if I care for someone, they will care about me. My childhood and teenage years were about taking care of someone else and thus being worthy of their affection. It never worked out. Never.

You know, taking care of someone is innate. It’s why I have the job I do. It’s also part of why I am a natural mother. It is also why I take good good care of my friends. If they need anything, I am there to provide. Love, food, finances… It doesn’t matter. If I love you, (romantically, platonically) I will do everything I can to simplify your life. I will not ask for much in return, just a moment of your time once in a while, and a bit of affection maybe too. That’s all.

I’d do anything for my kids, my husband, and my friends. Anything.

When will I be able to let go of the past? When does it stop to be part of my future?

The answer is: probably never. Because the past is what makes us.

The past is our future.

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Apropos WORD THIEF

Next week, two things will happen:

1. A video for WORD THIEF – the song (in collaboration with Daniel Cavanagh) will be posted

2. Another poem from WORD THIEF (fly lady butterfly) will be put into a song (again with Dan Cavanagh) and shared here (maybe – if time allows it, another video will be posted too)

If you are wondering – WORD THIEF is written in all caps because – it looks better LOL

Cheers…

One of these days I will learn how to promote or advertise my books without feeling bad about it ❤️💜

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End of the year questions

1. What are the three most important things you learned this year?

  • Out of a big loss can grow an even bigger connection
  • Listen to your gut. If it tells you something is over there is no use holding on to it
  • Love with all your heart

2. Who has made the biggest impact on you this year? 

My soulfriend for keeping me grounded and me myself for standing up for my own needs and wants

3. Who or what inspires you most?

Kind and courageous people who are unapologetically themselves

4. What’s one goal you accomplished this year?

Contentment, something close to serenity or happiness.

5. What can you do today that you didn’t think was possible a year ago?

Speaking my mind openly and showing my integrity and intelligence to everyone (yeah, it sounds conceited)

6. What achievement in 2022 are you most proud of?

  • Job changes (in May and in August)
  • Maintaining friendships through thick and thin and good and bad
  • Everything I did for myself

7. What is one habit you would like to change?

Taking work too seriously and saying yes to commitments when I actually mean no

8. How do you maintain balance in your life?

I don’t? There is no balance in my life at all.

9. What were your career highlights this year?

I changed jobs a couple of times this year and I am happy to say that I am quite content to be back working with kids. The former two jobs were very interesting and very important, but not for me. So, a highlight was admitting to let go of everyone else’s expectations and following my own path

10. What excites you about the future?

Life. Love. Deep connections; deeper than love or friendships. Also, turning 40 – I am looking forward to that.

11. What was the most challenging part of this year for me?

Letting go of things that weren’t meant for me

12. Knowing what you know now, what advice would you give to yourself at the start of 2022?

Don’t force it. Everything will fall into place. Take the opportunities offered to you, it will be worth it.

13. What are my most important goals for next year?

  • No goals, just going with the flow again

14. What is something that was hard early in the year that’s easier now?

Asking for help and admitting that I can’t get things done without any help.

15. What did you learn about yourself this year that surprised you?

I am more messed up than I thought I am, but I am also a lot more loveable. I am an interesting, intriguing woman, apparently, and the fact that I don’t bend over backwards to make anyone like me seems to appeal to many people too. (Or so I am told.)

(source of the questions: Grammarly.com

I did this in 2020 (I think) for the first time and forgot about it in later times, but here I am recycling old posts. Most replies changed, some didn’t

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Happy Blog Anniversary

This little blog is a decade old today. Most blogs that old are much more successful and frequented. Mine is not, and that is quite alright. For me, it’s a success that I stuck with it through all these years, through thick and thin and good and bad. Above it all, I am grateful for every pair of eyes that ever laid eyes on the words I wrote and deleted on this blog. We’ve been through a lot together. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Ever so often, I get the urge to delete my online presence, but this blog – even if I neglect it sometimes, I probably won’t give it up any time soon.

Ten years ago, when I started the blog, I was 29. I was a mom of three and some kind of bored housewife. I had just started to write and I had this idea about the blog to share music I like and words I wrote. Sharing my own thoughts and struggles came a lot later. I am not sure if any of you remember but on December 21st 2012, the world was supposed to end, I think, subconsciously I wanted a piece of me to survive the end of the world. Ten years on and the world we knew then ended indeed. So much has changed. We have changed. We evolve and move on.

On the anniversary of the blog, I like to take a look at the stats. They are nothing special, no high numbers at all. And yet, I am quite proud.

As you can see, 2021 and 2020 were more successful than 2022. And that is very fine by me. In fact, I haven’t written as much nor shared as much this year. Somehow, the muse was more silent this year, which goes hand in hand with me being more content with my life. At least during the second part of the year.

In 2022, the blog was visited by 87 different countries. You can see the top 5 on the pic above. Compared to previous years, there was a slight shift, but all in all, there are still the same countries visiting. Still missing someone from Iceland checking in though, hehe

The most successful posts can be seen on the pic above.

Obviously, the Home Page is the most clicked. The top 5 are as follows:

Goodbye, Anathema. This is a post about the band Anathema. They split up in 2020, that’s when this post was written. Last year, the same post was the most read too. I like it, because there is a lot of music in the post and bits and pieces about myself too.

Be kind! In May 2022 a former member of the band mentioned in the previous post shared his struggles with mental health in a Facebook post. The reactions on social media were mixed and that somehow got me writing this post. I kept wondering why a man who admitted to having hit rock bottom was kicked and ridiculed for speaking his truth and asking for help.

Golden Shovel No2. A fellow writer and blogger, Monty, shared a competition to write Golden Shovel poems. Check out the link and you will see what I am talking about. Also, thank you Monty for this beautiful opportunity.

Bloganuary #2. In January, a blog offered daily prompts/questions to get bloggers and writers to engage more with other blogs. I answered a couple of those questions, but they felt blunt and uninteresting and so I stopped participating in the challenge in the end.

Bloganuary #11 This was another prompt/question from January…

As you can see, the blog is not all that important and there is no life-altering stuff on it. But there is a lot about me. It actually is me. Open, secretive, authentic, weird, quirky, imperfect, charming, funny, looking for a bit of love and attention once in a while, too.

A decade of blogging deserves a better post to celebrate, but for today, this is all I’ve got. I am very tired from not sleeping well, but I am quite alright these days. I am not looking forward to the Holidays, I never am. But I am not alone in this. Cherish you friends who spend sleepless nights on the other side of the screen with you. Take care of those who are alone during the holidays and check in with them regularly. I know I will do just that.

I love this blog and I love all of you who read and leave occasional comments.

On to the next few years of writing, evolving and living. Cheers my friends ❤️💜❤️💜❤️

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Questions

Interesting get to know you questions (source: teambuilding.com)

I love questions and lists. Some are trivial, some are difficult to answer, but they all reveal bits of who we are. The following questions are all quite philosophical, I tried to reply in very short, open, and true manner. Enjoy – you can leave your thoughts in the comments, I’d love to read your answers to these questions.

  • If you could speak to one deceased person for thirty seconds, who would it be and what would you say? I would speak to my grandma, ask her if she was okay and tell her that inspite of her hate towards me, I made it; and also: I am grateful for the role she played in my life. Last but not least, I would say thank you and tell her that I love her
  • If you could travel to the past and change one event, would you? Which one? Why? This is an easy question for me because of my personal philosophy. I try living without regrets which means that I don’t want to change anything; no past event needs to be changed. Every moment in my life mattered and meant something, it all shaped the person I am today. If I changed one thing, everything else would change too, and I would not want that
  • What is the best advice you have ever received? Be kind, everyone fights a battle. Love yourself, because you are the only one out there who knows how to do it.
  • What is the worst advice you have ever received? It doesn’t matter what they think
  • For what in your life do you feel most grateful? I am grateful for my kids, my husband, my best friend, my job and every little success and failure I got to experience
  • If you could change anything about the way your parents raised you, what would it be? Everything, starting from them never showing love, affection to offering support – everything. The only thing I would not change is the way they introduced me to music and that it is a magical place
  • Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it? Actually, no. When I published my novel I fulfilled my own dreams
  • If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why? I am not sure. I would continue working and spending time with my kids and husband. Maybe I would travel more to meet and hug the people I met online. Also, I would probably pressure myself into writing and publishing one last poetry collection
  • What area of your life would you most like to improve? My health. It improved a lot in 2022; I also lost some weight, but yeah, that’s something I should take more care of
  • If you could switch lives with any one person for one day, who would you choose? I would love to be a man for a day and also have intimate relations with a woman – that’s very specific, I know but yeah, I would like to be a man of pleasure for a day
  • What is your definition of success? There is not one definite definition of success. But for me personally, it means feeling content and being happy with the current situation
  • How has your perspective on the world changed over time? It didn’t change all that much. I think, I got softer and more accepting of little mishaps.
  • Do you believe that people can change? Yes!! And I believe in second and third chances
  • Do you believe you will accomplish your dreams? I already did. I am not even 40 years old and there is no dream left for me. Apart from one that is still very new and fresh and not ready to be shared yet.
  • What was the scariest moment in your life so far? The birth of my first kid and last Christmas when I had a call from the hospital telling me that my mother would not survive the next 24 hours. I was asked to make decisions about her final hours and that was very scary. My mom, the fighter that she is, pulled through that time, but the doctor said it was nothing short of a miracle
  • What is your biggest regret to date? No regrets, but I should have asked for help earlier
  • Whose death hit you hardest? Without a doubt my grandma’s death
  • Do you believe in free will? I do, but I also think that there is a path that is destined to be walked. We have the free will and choice to do things on this path, but the path itself is paved and there is no choice other than to follow it
  • Do you believe in destiny? Yes. Every person we meet teaches us a lesson or becomes a memory. Everything happens for a reason
  • If you could relive one moment in your life, which would it be? A day in November 2017. If I was then who I am now, that day would have turned out differently. At the same time, if it had, nothing would be the same right now
  • What is your most cherished belief? Everything happens for a reason
  • Where do you think we go when we die? Our Souls live on, I am certain of that. As long as we are remembered, we are not dead.
  • What do you think is the meaning of life? It’s a very philosophical question, but for me, the meaning of life is to be there for others, leave a little imprint on the soul of everyone you meet and share bits and pieces of your personal wisdom with everyone you meet. Also 42! (For those who know)

I hope you enjoyed these few questions and answers… Tomorrow (December 21st) is the shortest day of the year – enjoy every minute of it. xx

Little edit: holy all, there were quite a few too many mistakes and errors I did not see last night. It’s embarrassing, really. Everything should be sorted out now. I apologise. Have a nice day xx

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Stream of (un)consciousness

This December, this blog will turn 10 years old. (On 21st, to be precise). For a couple of days now I have been thinking about deleting the entire content on that day and start fresh. You know, a new beginning. At the same time, I am aware that the blog and me changed a lot since 2012 and it would be a bit sad to push that natural “evolution” away. I like writing these personal posts, at the same time, I wonder if those truths shouldn’t stay offline. Then again, I am not sharing any secrets, I am not writing personal stuff about people I don’t know. Poetry, creative writings like the Dear Stranger letters or many untitled pieces are complete (or 97%) fiction. The music I share is not to review it, it is just to share songs that touch me or took me by surprise that day. These days, it feels as if the blog lost its purpose. And let’s be honest, since I took that job in September, I am in a good place mentally and the inspiration or muse I had before almost vanished.

I used to be a talented writer, that’s for sure and I believe in my talent. I am not blocked for words, that’s for sure too. I am still talented, but I also think that I wrote the same words for years and they lost their depth and their meaning. For the writer and the reader.

Clearly, I am overthinking this. Some things never change.

What else am I overthinking? The year 2022… Here is an sample of a post that I began to write but will not finish…

  • 2022 was a bit of a weird year, filled with self-reflection and also (it sounds weird) self-improvement
  • In hindsight, I feel as if I have been wandering aimlessly for many years. My mental health was bad and worse for years and I was in a fog for a long while. I see clearer now and it feels good
  • I worked three different jobs in 2022. I don’t really like to admit it because if feels like a failure of sorts, but I needed it to arrive at the place where I am now.
  • When the year started, I was working at a foster home for pregnant teens and teen moms. In May, I began a job assisting parents during visits with their kids. This work was court ordered and although I loved both jobs, they felt wrong. I felt wrong there and I missed the work with kids. In September (after a late-night chat with a former boss) I got back to the place of work I had left in June 2021. I work in a different position now and I don’t work at the nursery anymore. Now, I work with schoolchildren. And it is a lot of fun. For a long while, I said that I would not want a job with children of that age – but erstens kommt es anders und zweitens als man denkt.
  • It sounds weird and as if I was undecided what to do with my life but truthfully, I embrace the experiences I made and the people I met. All of them. I am very grateful and many moments of the last year definitely shaped my future.
  • I haven’t written much, and it feels okay. Sometimes I try, but the words don’t really feel relevant or as if they need to be shared. And with that, I mean writing fiction. In 2022, the blog was all about me and my personal development. And here too, I wonder if I share too much and why am I doing it in the first place?! By the way, on December 21st, the blog will be 10 years old. A decade of words and music… We’ll see if I can come up with a post that is worthy of a decade of words.
  • In 2021 I had shoulder surgery… My arm never fully recovered and I still have moments when I am in excruciating pain. I try to ignore it, but as so often, when you want to ignore something, it slowly turns into a monster. That’s an important life lesson, isn’t it?
  • The last third of 2022 I noticed how I became more and more serene. I am not sad, and I have a good life. I have a small handful of Friends and of those there are the very few that I confide in without holding back.
  • I also learnt how important personal boundaries are and how important it is to voice them. This applies not only to the career, but also to matters of the private life. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Not everyone can appreciate this honesty, but it feels good to show that kind of integrity at all times.
  • Another lesson from 2022 (from 2021 actually): even when you know people for seven years or more, a friendship can still and always change. 

I will be 40 next February. That number does not scare me anymore. I was made aware of how much I achieved in my life time, how many obstacles were in my way and pushed away. I am often surrounded by people who are younger than I am. It’s only now that I am beginning to appreciate the fact that I can teach them things – simply because I am experienced in this thing called life.

Life is beautiful for now. I cannot sleep well and being under the weather for such a long time sucks, but the wonder and beauty of life prevails and I am lucky that I have incredible people in my life who are just a swipe of the screen, a phone call or and arm’s length away. My kids are awesome teenagers, funny, intelligent, beautiful. A fact to add to the list: in 2022 i fell in love with my husband again. I did not mention him often because I thought it would keep up some kind of mystery about myself – but I love that man. There is no better feeling that looking in his Green eyes and knowing exactly what he thinks. Or sitting at a table with him, talking for hours (after 22 years as a couple). Or watching TV with him, either sitting on the opposite ends of the couch, or me resting my head on his big round belly, his hand on my thigh…

Nice.

I’ll turn my phone off now. I don’t often turn it off at night, I want to be there (available) for a friend who has crippling nightmares and nightly panic attacks. Sometimes, he needs support and comfort at night… And most often, I am there to provide.

But not tonight…

G’night

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Promote it at/on

The only thing left when the candle goes out one last time is a glimmer pretending to keep everything from turning dark.

La seule chose qui reste lorsque la bougie s’éteint une dernière fois est une lueur prétendant d’empêcher tout de s’assombrir.

💜❤️✨❤️💜

I shared the above almost nothing pic on IG yesterday, and the bots promptly reacted. I delete those comments as soon as they pop up, but really, they are the only comments I receive on IG.

While I have a sliver of your attention: could I interest you in one of my poetry books? They are no masterpieces by any means but decent and beautiful nonetheless. https://www.amazon.de/Catherine-Tricarico/e/B08SL24XYR/ref=aufs_dp_mata_mbl

I wish I could still write like that… But I am happy and proud that I was once able to do this and that I fulfilled my dream of being published. Also, the last of my releases can be found at the luxembourgish national library.

💜❤️✨❤️💜