The L word (part I)

Published: November 11, 2023 / Updated: November 11, 2023 Vilma The London story

I can’t concentrate, my breathing is too shallow and I smile like a fool. I think I’m in love.

I’d say it’s about damn time.

Let’s start with a fact that my daughter has a vivid imagination. Very vivid. And for a long time her only response to my any statement or question was: ‘When I lived in England… ‘. It was cute at first but then it started to annoy me a little bit. She had never lived in England. I had. She knows nothing about it.

So after her many responses of ‘when I lived in England…’ I decided to do something about it.

We we going to go to England.

And not just any part of it, but the best part – London.

When I started to put a plan in place I decided to keep the trip a secret from my daughter. Her birthday was coming up so this was going to be a part of my gift for her.

I was surprised to find out that so many people I had talked to about it have not been to London. It was hard to believe – London is just 2 hours and a bit away on the plane. There is a huge expat community over there. So many of my friends had lived there (some still do) for years. And I myself had been to London so many times! Wait… What?

And then it came to me. I have not visited London many times. I have done it only once. I’m talking about a proper visit, where I got to walk, see, eat and take pictures. That was 11 years ago.

All the other times I was simply at one of London airports, catching a connecting flight back home. Ha! And personally, when somebody says they’ve ‘been’ to a city or country, but had only seen the inside of the airport, that is the true ‘not been there’ to me.

So I felt that visiting London after many years would be good for me as well. Of course, though, it was all because of my girl – she had to see what England (and London) was all about.

My friend Karla saw straight through me:

‘This is like Homer Simpson getting a bowling ball for Marge’s birthday just because he wants it himself’, – she said in her voice message.

That is after she found out I was going to take Mia to London and we were going to FINALLY meet London boy. Not only that, we were going to stay with him. Yup, you read it right, this was happening.

For the sake of me I can’t really remember how the plan fell into place. I am not sure whether he offered to stay with him or I asked. All I knew is that we were going to London and something big was going to happen.

Here’s a gentle reminder: I’ve know the guy for almost three years and I’d done it all (mostly begged) but he never came to see me.

And now, with everything set in place, bags almost packed, all I could think about was his question:

‘So will you kiss me when you’re here?’

Out of the blue

Published: September 16, 2023 / Updated: September 16, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

I was not prepared for her question.

Our summer had passed without major ups and downs. I’d say that we had finally settled in, a bit over a year after coming back to Europe. My daughter has friends, lots of them. I made friends, too. We are happy with the way our life is. Of course, going gets tough at times, but it’s only to be expected, and we get through it.

By the time the fall came, another summer romance ended. The men that I meet are simply not what I’m looking for. And what I’m looking for remains a mystery. ‘Good luck with that’, – I can almost hear you say. And I agree – good luck to me, not knowing what I want.

I had closed all dating apps. I feel free and I feel good.

The school year has started again and the fall routine has set in. We had been blessed with peaceful moments.

Until the day when a friend came for a visit. I’d met him in Mexico around 2 years ago. Our date was pretty ordinary, and it didn’t leave extremely good or bad memories. We had kept in touch all this time checking in on each other every once in a while.

‘I’ll be in your city in September’, – he announced one day.

He travels all the time – it’s what he does. And this time he was in my neck of the woods. Of course, it’s always a pleasure to see a familiar face.

I had warned my girl that I would come to pick her up after work with a friend. I didn’t say much more, as that’s what he is, a friend. And so our walk to the kindergarten on that day was full of talk and smiles, of catching up, the conversation flowed easily.

When I saw her, playing outside, I expected her to run towards me shouting ‘My mama is here!’ just like she always does. She runs, she almost flies, with the biggest smile on her face. This time she just stood where she was and she watched. My friend was walking by my side.

When I came up to my daughter, I saw tears swell in her eyes. I saw sadness and curiosity, and I heard hope in her shaky voice: ‘Is this my daddy?’ – she asked, still staring at him.

Oh, Lord… I did not expect that. She knew well her daddy had been gone for a long time now, she knew that. How could he be alive? How could she ask that?

Without looking back at my friend, I realized the sun was just behind us while we walked, and we must have looked like (un)familiar faces to her. But still… How could her daddy possibly walk next to me?..

But to her, it seemed entirely possible. It broke my heart.

‘No, my love, this is not your daddy. It’s a friend I had mentioned to you before’, – I told her, pulling her into embrace. At that moment she seemed so unsure of herself, of her surroundings. I held her close to my chest till I was sure she was OK. And then I held her for a bit longer.

If only… If only one day a miracle like that could happen.

(not only) mother

Published: May 5, 2023 / Updated: May 5, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

One day, when my daughter reads this, she will get to know her dad. My words will paint her many a picture. My blog will tell her many a story. She will get to know him well.

She will also get to know me, her mother.

What kind of mother am I?

  • The one that stops traffic to get her daughter’s balloon.

… I told her to hold it tight. She did until a second later she didn’t. Once we turned round the corner, she lost her grip and the strong wind took it away. Shouting ‘Don’t run into the street, stay here!’ I started running after the balloon. Looking back, it was tremendously funny. At that moment, it wasn’t. She was crying, and I was chasing the god damn balloon. The cars stopped (thankfully the traffic was not that heavy), the drivers smiled and nodded in understanding, and I managed to get hold of it. I felt like a hero. She stopped crying. I carried the balloon the rest of the way home…

  • The one that asks a stranger for a tulip for her child.

… She’s been telling me for a while she only liked red and blue flowers (the courtesy of the Spider man). There were many beautiful flowers on the way to her kindergarten. Tulips were plenty as well. And my girl had to have a red one. Sure, I could have bought her one. But where is the fun in that? So we tried to find a tulip that belonged to no one, so we could just pick it up and take it home. Alas, all of them were fenced up – beautiful, but unattainable. Explaining that we always needed to ask, and take ‘no’ with the same grace, I asked an older lady pottering in her garden if she’d agree to give one rose to my daughter. ‘Only one?’, – the lady wanted to be sure. When I nodded, she asked: ‘Which one?’, this time addressing my daughter. My girl picked the biggest, most beautiful flower…

  • The one that needs kisses and cuddles more that her daughter does.

… I fear the day she no longer wants to hold my hand…

  • The one that smiles to herself when her daughter talks about her dad.

… ‘Mommy, I really want daddy’, – she says before falling asleep. ‘I know’, – I do know. ‘So he can put twins in your belly’, – she continues and I smile in the dark.

  • The one that worries.

… ‘How can I protect her from all the bad in the world?’ – I ask. ‘Unfortunately, you can’t’, – he says. ‘But teach her values and be as real as you can.’

  • The one that hopes ‘I love you’ never ends.

… ‘To infinity and back’ – is what I say. ‘To the moon… To all the houses… Always…’ – is what she says. ‘Mommy, I know everything ends. But our love will never end’…

  • The one that never learned to be patient.

… ‘You need to make patience your friend’ sounded good when I read it to her, a little girl barely 2 years old. But what looks good on paper doesn’t necessarily work, for me, in real life…

  • The one that lies sometimes.

… Before she was born I swore to myself I’d tell the truth and nothing but the truth. That was until her first tantrum. After that I believe little lies don’t hurt anybody and make life more peaceful for both of us…

  • The one that believes in her beauty.

… No matter which way you look at her, inside and out, not doubt and 100%, she really, she truly is the most beautiful girl in the whole world.

  • The one that feels grateful.

… The most blessed person on Earth, because I got her…

That’s me alright.

In a room full of strangers

Published: April 16, 2023 / Updated: April 16, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

When asked for an update, my friend Karla said: ‘I have a nanny. She comes once or twice a week. And I go to these meetings, where…’. I stopped listening as soon as I heard ‘and I go’. Me? I also go. I go places with my daughter or I don’t go at all. I don’t have a nanny.

Am I happy? Of course! Is it difficult to find new friends, make connections? Yup, it certainly is.

And that was all I needed. That update from Karla. Nope, it’s not what you think. I still don’t have a nanny (working on it, promise you), but I did get to go out (one of those rare occasions).

It doesn’t matter where I went (it was way too hot there, I was literally sweating and my face was burning. Talk about trying to make a good first impression). It doesn’t matter who was there (people from all walks of life, plus a cockroach, which I noticed half dead under the table). And it really is not relevant what we drank (I had a glass of wine in a pub. But it could have been worse). What matters is that I was alone and did not have a beautiful little girl to hide behind.

I don’t know how many of you are at ease walking into a room full of strangers and striking up a conversation, keeping up that conversation, not to bore others and not to be bored yourself. I certainly am not. And on my way there, I did want to turn around and go back home, telling myself and didn’t need any of it and the safety of my own home was much more inviting. But you don’t know me well enough if you think I give up so easily. I love meeting new people and hearing their stories. I also don’t mind sharing my own stories. The problem is how to get from the point where you enter the pub to the point where you are telling stories.

I entered the room holding tight to my glass of wine, smile plastered on my face. ‘Fake it till you make it’, – I repeated in my mind.

The six or so people who were already there all looked up. ‘Keep smiling,’ – I told myself.

As fast as I could, I lowered myself into a chair next to the closest person.

The glass safe at hand, I looked left and right, listened, and kept smiling. Once there, surrounded by others, it didn’t take long for me to join in. I listened, I talked, I even laughed. I could also feel more than one pair of eyes boring into me. It’s like the people couldn’t get enough of me, I’m not kiddin’. Conversation flowed. It went from that person to another one, and then to the third one and so on. I was finally comfortable in my own skin.

It felt good. I had a great time, and I tried really hard to forget about the cockroach. Soon enough I announced to my new friends I was about to leave. Timing was everything: being one of the first ones there made it easier for me to join in conversations; leaving early enough, when I was in the highest of spirits, allowed me to end the night just right .

With a genuine smile on my face I left. It was a good night.

Except it was not quite over yet.

‘I’m glad I met you’, – my phone flashed a message. I did take the numbers of those I talked to the most.

‘Thanks for a good company’, – a flash from a different number.

As I got ready for bed, I whispered: ‘Thank you, Karla’.

Short story

Published: March 4, 2023 / Updated: March 4, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

A couple of weeks ago.

‘You should invite me over,’– I write to him. You know that when it comes to getting what I want, I’m not the shy type.

‘Come over,’ – he agrees. Oh my god. This is finally happening.

‘Can I really come?’ – I have to make sure. I can’t afford getting excited over nothing.

‘I’ll see you in April.’– Yes! You sure will.

A few days later.

‘You will come to meet me at the airport, right? You remember the story I told you? Besides, you need to put in some effort, too.’ – I am not making the same mistake. The last time I flew over to meet a guy it turned out to be a disaster. I swore to myself to never ever fly anywhere to meet a guy again. I’ve done that one too many times. But for this guy, gosh, for him I’d do a lot. However, I learn from my mistakes. Thus the message above.

‘I’ll visit you. It will be easier for me’. – OK, cool. It will be much easier for me, too.

The next day.

‘I may just buy a ticket tonight’. – What a tease he is.

‘You are such a tease,’ –  he knows words mean nothing. He likes to play games.

‘I have no choice. You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.’ – He’s right. This feels good.

The next morning.

‘I had a dream about you. You only need to show me a picture of a ticket and I dream of you.’ – It was a beautiful dream. I tell him all about it.

‘Nice dream.’ – Hm. A bit dry, I’d say. It wasn’t ‘nice’. It was beautiful.

Later same day.

‘So are you coming over on those days that you mentioned?’ – I need to know. Let’s get this settled.

‘No, sorry.’ – Reasons follow that I don’t care to acknowledge or remember.

Pause.

‘You are not sorry. And I finally take ‘no’ for an answer.’ – I’m tired of this game. I want to delete his number. Why keep it? I want him gone from my life. But I do nothing.

If I could read the world

Published: February 10, 2023 / Updated: February 10, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

What were you thinking about when you were 15?

I was definitely not thinking about the problems in our society, the major issues affecting everybody in our world. Unlike Anne M. Frank, barely 15, who was writing in her diary, sometime at the beginning of the 20th century, about the sad reality of women being inferior to men. And it was not enough for her that it was unfair. She needed to know the reasons behind it and what she could do to change that.

‘When I was 15 I was probably thinking most about my then boyfriend’ – I told Kristina, after I shared Anne M. Frank’s thoughts.

‘You were lucky to have a boyfriend’.

‘Why? Who needs boyfriends?’ – and we both burst out laughing.

Beware, today I talk about books, not boyfriends.

‘My own words’ is lying on my coffee table.

This would never have been the book of my choice. But, luckily, sometimes others make choices for us.

I have always been into books, from the very young age. My dad used to read a lot, my mom still does. So whatever books were brought home from the library, they would land in my hands as well. Dad used to read lots of detective stories, including Agatha Christie, and adventure books.

However, my 3 favorite books from childhood were without a doubt the ones below:

I had read each one of them a million gazillion of times, no kidding.

Fast forward 30 or so years, I guess it‘s not surprising, that when asked to make a short presentation about myself at my new place of work less than a year ago, I talked about books, especially the last one. And how the phrase ‚Every day is like a lifetime‘ stuck with me.

‘My own words’ is a very different kind of book. I did skip some parts and I’m struggling to get past page 143, but the book hooked me with the 2 savvy advises given at the very beginning:

‘In every good marriage it helps sometimes to be a little deaf’ – doesn’t it just so!

and

‘If you really want something, no matter how hard it seems to achieve, you will stop worrying and you will get it’.

And although the latter one makes me want to contradict straight away and say that ‘really, not everything is that easy, not always we can just go for it’, deep down I know it’s true. If we really really want something, we find a way to get it done. We make it work. I’ve done it myself. And if I start with ‘but I don’t have time’ or ‘it’s so difficult’ it just means that I don’t want it enough.

The book goes on to tell the stories of women who fought for gender equality and did many other great things. Who, years before, paved the way to what we find an ordinary way of life today.

And what have I done? What have I achieved that would make a difference? But do I have to? Do I need to be yet another superwoman?

Let’s just say that thinking about it all is a very good start. Isn’t that the whole point? Whether we like the book or not, in my eyes, if it makes us think and question our life and our choices, it’s a damn good book.

Growing up

Published: January 27, 2023 / Updated: January 27, 2023 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

‘You are not like other parents’, – a mother of my daughter’s friend tells me.

‘But really, – I continue. ‘After not seeing her the whole day while I work, I can’t wait to pick her up from the kindergarten’.

That is so true. It gets crazy sometimes, but every day I can’t wait to see her smiley face and get a hug from her.

She is my world.

Her world, at the age of 4, if far less complicated than mine. As it should be.

‘Mama, can a wolf and a fox be friends?’ – she wonders before closing her eyes.

‘Yes, my love’.

‘But a wolf and a bunny can’t be friends?’

‘Probably not, my love’.

However, even at that innocent age there is drama.

When I ask her if she’s good friends with some of the children, she tells me:

‘But mama, one day they want to play with me, the other day they don’t. One day we hug, the other day we don’t talk. So who knows’.

Bless her, she feels rightly confused.

As do I.

In the past six months I had men come into my life who had wanted to stay. What a long awaited, surprising, beautiful thing! And what did I do? I let them go.

Why? Is that not what I wanted?

And so here we are. Back to where we started.

But now I think. Is it really the same beginning? Is being on your own the sign of strength or the sign of weakness? To let go of someone who leads you nowhere, is that not the sign of courage? To recognize what’s good, what works and what doesn’t, even if at the end of the day it leaves just you, is that not what makes you strong?

When my daughter’s teacher told me that my girl could stand up for herself and would not let anybody push her around, I said, without thinking: ‘She must have gotten it from her dad’.

I was wrong. She got that from me. I am strong. I stand up for myself. And when push comes to shove, I know my worth.

I admit that it was not always so. There have times when I stayed quiet, when I should have shouted out loud. There have been times when I let others hurt me and did not fight back.

I grew up and I learned my lessons.

We’re good, babe

Published: December 31, 2022 / Updated: December 31, 2022 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

I am not about the new year resolutions.

But this year I have decided to make one. It is not the usual ‘I’ll start something this coming year’ resolution. It is ‘I’ll stop something this coming year’ resolution.

In 2023 I will stop asking London boy to come and see me. Because I still do. And he still doesn’t. Although sometimes… I feel hopeful.

I beg, I try to bribe, I almost threaten and give ultimatums. Boys and girls, nothing works. That man is unmovable.

And so, I’ve decided enough was enough. I will continue talking to him because I enjoy it, but I’ll stop dreaming of him. Mmmmm, maybe not that. I’ll just stop asking him to come and visit me (while secretly still wishing and hoping). Let the new year begin.

And no matter how much I despise seeing gray streaks in my hair, obviously meaning that I’m getting older, I love the wisdom that comes with it. Some things you only realize when you hit 40.

If I’m being completely honest here, I have often played a victim. For example:

  • Growing up, I only knew 2 kinds of ice cream favors: vanilla and chocolate.
  • We never had too much money. Just enough, sometimes not enough, never too much.

I could go on and on. But this one hurt the most:

  • My partner and my baby daddy got killed, leaving me and our baby alone.

That was the biggest hit. The pain remained for a very long time. The questions laid unanswered for even longer. I was a victim. I was left alone, without a warning, without a goodbye.

But the thing is – shit happens. To everybody. All the time. Life is about that: it’s about not being pretty, it’s about not being fair, it’s about always testing you and throwing you off balance. So the way to happiness is taking that as a norm. ‘Life is not fair’ – that’s the norm. Losing a loved one is a norm.

And once I started realizing that, I started feeling blessed with moments when nothing happened. No one died, no one suffered.

I started seeing the moments of joy as extraordinary rewards.

Then and only then life started to make sense.

Of course, I’m only human, and I tend to forget deep truths and my newly found understanding often vanishes in the chaos of everyday life. Practice lags behind theory. But those realizations remain deep inside, and the seeds of wisdom keep growing.

These are my scattered thoughts as the year ends. Coincidentally, they resonated to 10 Deep Psychology And Philosophy Quotes (African history, Arts & Humanities website):

1. The world will ask who you are, and if you don’t know, the world will tell you.

2. If a man knows more than others, he becomes lonely.

3. Everything that irritates us about others can lead to an understanding of ourselves.

4. Life really does begin at forty. Up until then, you are just doing research.

5. You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.

6. Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.

7. Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.

8. Be grateful for your difficulties and challenges, for they hold blessings.

In fact… Man needs difficulties; they are necessary for healthy personal growth, individualization and self-actualization.

9. Everyone you meet knows something you don’t know but need to know. Learn from them.

10. I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.

Where the boys at?

Published: December 16, 2022 / Updated: December 16, 2022 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

‘A man has two women. One he lies to, the other one he tells the truth. Which one does he love?’

‘Of course he loves the one he lies to’, I think to myself. He lies to her because he wants to protect he. So it means he loves her. Right?

Wrong. As soon as the previous thoughts come to my mind, they leave an instant later. The man loves nobody but himself.

And once again I ask myself. Where are those men that need only one woman? Where are those caring and committed men, who believe in monogamy, in love and respect?

Well, it seems they are just around the corner.

You do remember a ‘he’ that appeared in my life back in the summer, right? He was the type of a man who believed in monogamy and wanted a commitment. He told me that from the start. I turned him down. Partially because there was no chemistry between us. And without the sparks, uff, the going gets tough.

But he was offering me what I wanted – love and commitment. So why say ‘no’?

I’m sorry, but being told ‘I love you’ after a handful of dates does not sit well with me. Nor do talks about getting married when I hardly know him.

I do remember my sister telling me, some years ago, that the older you get, the faster you reach ‘in a relationship’ status. But what happened to getting to know each other well before saying ‘I do’? Who wants to get married and realize a few weeks later that you made a mistake? Been there, done that.

Back in high school I was attending ethics lessons. I remember our teacher telling us one day that one of the best ways to get to know a person is to go on a trip together. You’ll see who gets to eat the last cookie – those were her exact words.

So no, meeting up a couple of weekends and spending time in the safety of our own homes does not equal a challenge. That does not mean you really know the person.

As you know, that guy disappeared.

A new one appeared.

But the story is quite similar. He told me ‘I love you’ so early in our relationship that he put me off. How can this be? Why do men keep saying that after a couple of dates?

And so the relationship goes on. But it’s a weird one, at least in my opinion.

And if I think it’s weird, it ain’t right.

So let me rephrase myself – where are all those men that are ready to commit, that are happy being monogamous, but wish to get to know the person they are with before saying ‘I love you’?