Paradise isn't a place, it's a feeling.
No glam today. No filters. No Photoshop. Well, maybe a little but merely to change image sizes and do some other technical stuff but the rest, as you will undoubtedly see, is pretty much untouched. I thought that you might enjoy seeing that I wake up looking questionable. That I have uneven skin tone and ashy legs. That I can have horrible morning breath (not included in this post) and that I occasionally scratch my own Lilliputian ass.
I’m not patting myself on the back here for being so transparent and showing the world that I am really real. I’m always real. I’m doing this because I want you to know that I’m just like you. If I, when growing up, would’ve had someone telling me the God honest truth about the basal things in life, I probably would’ve suffered less from self-consciousness.
Well, maybe not entirely, because one can never really tell, but I think my honesty might help you instead, and make you realize that it’s actually ok to not be flawless. Behind all the glamorous experiences, travelling the world, meeting amazing people and living a life of considerable luxury, there is also an ordinary me. And even though we all like to paint pretty pictures, I do too, it’s ok to sometimes not, and let it all hang out.
There is so much beauty in plain things you see and I have a lot more to say on the subject but today is about showing. Showing where I’m from. Sharing with you a part of me and my family and letting you take a look at my parent’s home in Suriname, South America. My birthplace. My heritage. The place where one third of my history is rooted.
My parents moved back to Suriname a few years ago and started building a new home for our family. It was and still is a very laborious project but I’m particularly proud of them, because they put so much love and dedication into it. I thought I knew my parents but I don’t, and I’ve seen sides of my mother and father I never knew were there. I’m so grateful for every moment spent with them and truly loved stepping into mud spattered boots and switching to unglamorous mode.
Here in Holland I wake up at least 2 times every night, but when I’m in Suriname, smelling the lavishness of tropical rain forest , eating fresh vegetables and fruits from my mother’s garden, working outside and breathing in the unpolluted air, I sleep like a contended chubby baby. Only to wake up at 5 a.m. to the bass roars of howler monkeys. There isn’t a sound in the world that I’d like to wake up to more than the sound of this. I wanted you to know a part of me that is just as real as the rest but a little less hurried and a bit more untamed.
Sending you a bucket full of cute baby monkeys , all the way from here to wherever you are.