New Life

Although the last couple of weeks at work have been hell, I am pretty happy they have happened (and are still). I have always known how important it is for me to have a routine to follow, and how much I love learning, and the problems at work have led me back into working a routine for myself out, bringing me again close to things I value and had at some point let out of my life.

Sundays now involve church. It requires me to wake up latest at 930, so I can have breakfast before heading to church in Spanish. It had been years (around 10) since I went at least once a week regularly, and I am enjoying listening to the priest, to those words familiar to me from my childhood, and to the intepretations.Sundays now also involve- if available- Fromula 1 races. I lve watching them and cannot come up with why I stopped over the last 3 years. It is over now though, and I will be up at 6am tomorrow to watch the race.

I am back to the gym as well. 3 times a week, and always on the same days unless I have German class. Tuedays, Thursdays and Saturdays are gym days. I am still only on cardio, but plan to move to Step and give Zumba a try in the next weeks. I am sure it will be fun.

I felt horrible when I received my results from my German test saying I failed the Essay. However, now I feel lucky I failed. I decided to take some classes, and go now every second week to a private 2 hour lesson. I am re-taking the essay in May and will pass this time. In the meantime, I have homework to do during the week: Grammar, Essays, etc. I spread them over the days, and have started going to my favourite place to study, Starbucks, to do homework.

The uni semester will start soon, and since I know I will struggle with the language, as all the psychological terms I know are in English and not German, I have started reading a book over General Psychology in German, which I read on the train on the way to work. The days I go to the gym I drive, the rest I take the train, and taking the train gives more structure to my life.

I still love reading, jigsaws, writting and travelling, and use my free time in them. I have started to enjoy my life again. True, I am back to working from home (for real work), working on strategies to apply at work, analyzing emails and preparing answers, and also reading books recommended by my boss, and books about coaching and other topics that I think will help me overcome the difficulties at work, but this working from home does not feel like work, feels more like school and I enjoy it.

Answers

There are days in my life in which I look back and only questions come to my mind: Who am I? Why am I here? What is the point of living every day? Why am I the person I am? Could I have been somebody different had my childhood and teenge years been different, or was I doomed to become the grown up I am?

Today, and almost every work day over the past month, have been these type of days. I find myself confronted with an environment I don't feel capable of mastering, and the more I try, and fail, the more I feel overwhelmed and not suitable for the assignments I have been given.

For those who know me it is not new to hear that I don't show myself the way I am, and that I am an overly sensitive person, who can be almost destroyed by anyone. My age has not provided me with the wisdom to block people from hurting and destroying me, which gives me the only option of hidding behind a facade that shows me as a stronger person than I actually am. It is thus no surprise thatI also reapply this strategy from my private life in my work life.

Up to now I feel I have been successful: almost 5 years into the job and still most of the people around me don't know how I am, while I have been able to deliver my job as expected. True, I have not made many friends, but the few I've made I treasure, and I still feel lucky.

In the past weeks, however, the rules of the game have changed. I struggle at work, as I get requests like "be more friendly" without further explanation. I fear I have never learnt to be friendly, and I have no idea how to react to the request. If I ask what is meant, I get an " I don't know, just more friendly", which is just as puzzling. I get that my facade shows a self confident strong woman that does not exist. The engineer in me is real, but the woman who goes to work does not. And the friendly woman my new colleagues are looking for I have never met.

Questions and questions keep coming to my mind, and I spend all my free (non crying) time in trying to get answers. Maybe I would know how to be friendly if I had had the opportunity in school, maybe I was never supposed to enter the industry and my destiny was in getting a PhD and spending my life in a lab looking for some nanoparticle, maybe the people I went to school were right and I should not have insisted in living a normal life, finishing school in a regular school and going to college, or maybe, just maybe, the person who went to university, the relaxed woman who let most people see her the way she was, the woman who had friends and a social life, and was happy and proud of herself was real, and has not yet found her way over the Atlantic.

I do not have questions, and the last weeks at work have brought me back to the edge, and set me for the nth time in my life in front of a crossroads: do I face what's coming to me, and try to master it 'til I drop, or do I get a doctor's note, mentioning an upset stomach 1 day after coming back from South East Asia, which will get me straight to the "Tropical Illnesses Hospital" and keep me locked there until I go home on vacation at the end of the month? I am scared of escaping, Marco's words still hunt me ("Escape is never the safest path"), but at the same time I am scared I can't master ths situation one more time, and give up on myself after all I have fought over the last 15 years...

Book

One of the ten things I want to do in my life is to write a book. I don't have a plan on when to write it, or what about, I only know I want to write one.

Given the fact that there is no clear timeline for one's life, and that winter and darkness often make me wish life wasn't so long, I often wonder why it is that I make no plans to complete the things I want to get done. It might be a good sign, something that says that my desire to shorten my life is only temporary. It might as well be a bad sign, and mean that none of the things I want to achieve move me enough to fight those winter feelings.

Days are now very short, regardless of when I go to work, whether with the train at 6am, or driving at 7am, it is still dark. I get out of work when it's dar already. I only get to see the light when I go for a smoke, which is a sad scenario. The scenario is only worsened by the fact that Murphy is back to ruling my life, and over the past couple of weeks, whatever could go wrong has gone wrong. I would call this a perfect combination for falling into depression, and losing hope. The past couple of weeks have also shown that I have some friends who have the ability to make me feel part of this planet, who make me feel I belong here, and there is a reason for my presence in this place. Hearing what I've been through over the past couple of weeks, which among others includes covering at work for more than one person who decided to stop doing their work, finding out squirrels are hidding their nuts for winter in my car's engine hood, getting caught speeding half a km from my apartment, and having a headache that evolved into migraine, she said I should start writting those events down: Nobody can invent that many lies in a week. R's words made me feel that there is at least one person who cares, and who remembers what plans and dreams I have in life.

I still don't know when I'll write my book, but I do now have a small idea on what I could write about, and it makes me feel a little bit closer to reaching at least one of my dreams.

Commencement

Ever since I was a kid I have been a person who easily breaks into tears. Tears come when I feel sad, happy, angry, disappointed, when I see a movie or read a book that transmits feelings, etc. I have always felt ashamed of this, on the outside I am a strong woman, and in the inside I am just a weak little kid, who often longs for a hug, and who has learnt to feel a hug when written on skype or messenger.

Why am I such a cry-baby? Why can't I keep my feelings to myself, and most of all, why do I long for those friends, in the US, in Colombia, or even here in Germany? Those friends who have made a great and stable life, the way I seem to be unable to make?

While watching Gilmore Girls Season 7 a large number of memories from my senior year came back to my mind, and while DVDs 1-4 were quite ok, upon reaching DVD 5 tears started coming to my mind. That dream I always had for after college that did not become true because I got rejected for my top choice for grad school, and the nightmares, reminding me of the failure I was for not making it, the awkward conversations with the guy I loved about being apart, and whether or not we have made mistakes, and who had made them, the end of college crisis, long hours in the library studying, and those uncomplicated nights with friends, hanging out, or drinking, and with L. watching TV. Where did those college years, the best years of my life go? Who am I? Or better expressed, am I? Since my graduation day I cannot listen to Pomp and Circumstance without crying. I do know Commencement ceremonies have that name because they simbolize a begin, however, as years go by, I get more convinced that mine only simbolized the end of the best part of my life, the end of the life I had dreamt of: A life with friends who cared and supported me, regardless of the situation, friends who would stop studying and go for a drink with me if I was having a difficult time, friends who made me feel worth in this planet, and who gave me the strength to keep moving, and keep living, and not to give up. College was also the last time I thought I could be in a relationship, and be loved and respected (not used as every single guy I've met since then has done), and although it has been now more than 4 years, it hasn't changed.

My graduation day seems to have marked the end for me giving myself a chance as a person, as a woman, who didn't protect herself behind a shell and who showed herself the (extremly) vulnerable way she was.

Commencemet marks the begin of my life as a strong minded engineer, as a woman who has a thick shell and does not show herself the way she is, one that has learnt to rationalize every thought, to avoid showing herself as she is, or that she feels and cares. I consider myself lucky for not being in love, as that would break my shell. I also consider myself lucky for being able to spend hours or days alone, without getting bored, often without saying a word (except when the tv doesn't turn on immediately, or when I am missing a piece of a jigsaw).

Graduation day was an amazing day, and it did mark the begin of my career life, but I womehow think that I'd rather be the woman I was before graduation, that who I am now.

Klassentreffen

Als ich ein Teenager war, habe ich immer gewuenscht, als Erwachsene zurueck nach Kolumbien zu kehren, um meine Klassenkammerade zu zeigen, dass auch ich etwas im Leben schaffen konnte. Acht Jahren sind seit meiner Schulabschluss vergangen, und je mehr ich darueber denke, desto weniger Bock habe ich darauf, je zurueck nach Kolumbien zu kehren. Nicht mal fuer ein Klassentreffen.

Ich kann mich erinnern, ich wollte mit viel Geld zurueckkehren, und auch mit viel Macht. Ich habe aber gelernt, dass es nicht wichtig ist. Die Moeglichkeiten, die mir das Leben angebotet hat, sind anders als die Angebote von anderen, und ich fuehle mich schlecht jedes Mal, wenn eine von meine wenigen Freunden von der Schulzeit mir Saetze wie "Du fuehrst ja ein tolles Leben", "Ich beneide dein Leben", oder "Wuerde viel dafuer ausgeben, dein Leben anstatt meines zu haben"sagt.

Ich frage mich, was sich in den letzten Jahren geaendert hat, dass ich nicht mehr Interesse daran habe, "Rache" von den Leuten zu nehmen, die mein Leben als Kleinkind un Jugendliche zerstoert haben, und egal wie viel ich darueber nachdenke, komme ich einfach ohne Antwort aus.

In den acht Jahren habe ich einige von meinen ehemaligen Klassenkameraden getroffen, und das Gefuehl, im falschen Ort zu sein, ist genau so stark wie damals. Ich mag sie alle einfach nicht. Sie sind gemein, viele sind ungebildet, und haben eine Vorstellung von der Welt und vom Leben, die ziemlich nervig sind. Sie sind oberflaechig, denken nur ans Geld, Figur, und Freundschaftskreise, und haben keine ahnung davon, wie viel Glueck sie im Leben haben, eine liebevolle Familie zu haben, studiert haben zu koennen, und noch wichtiger, ein -meistens- problemloses Leben fuehren zu koennen.

Was ist so anders zwischen uns? Wir sind ja zusammen aufgewachsen, und die umweltliche Faktoren, die unsere Leben bestimmt haben, sind die Gleiche. Egal ob ich eine Aussenseiterin, Streberin und Leseratte war, durften wir alle uns nicht frei durch die Stadt bewegen, wir mussten jeden Tag Schuluniform tragen, und haben um die acht Stunden am Tag im Schulgelaende verbracht.

Irgendwie, scheint es als ob ich zu schnell zu erwachsen geworden bin. Ich mag Neid nicht, und ich mag es nicht, wenn ich meine Freunde, die nicht nur beruflich sondern auch persoenlich, etwas geschaft haben. Ich weiss nicht ob ich je mein persoenliche Leben unter Kontrol kriegen werde, ich weiss aber, dass ich jeden Tag meines unvollstaendiges Leben geniessen kann, in dem ich meine Traeume folge, und nicht aufgebe. Irgendwann wird die Zeit kommen, jemanden zu treffen, und meine eigene Familie zu gruenden, und das wird nichts mit meiner Kindheit oder Jugendzeit zu tun haben. Ich brauche nicht mehr, die Leute meiner Schule zu beweisen, dass ich ein wertvoller Mensch bin, denn ich weiss es selbst, und das ist wichtiger als alles andere auf der Welt.

Ugly people

Some months ago, while having a cup of coffee with two friends and a friend of theirs at Starbucks, a comment was made: "people with backpacks are ugly. It does not matter if they have a beautiful face, as soon as they have a huge and ugly backpack on their shulders, they look ugly, and never elegant". The person who made the comment was not one of my friends, but their friend, and I assume she did not know that I am a "bacpacker".

Her comment hurt me badly, and made me analyze why such a comment can hurt, when it comes from somebody I have no contact to, nor do I have a friendship with. Was it the fact that my friends were there, and one of them looked at me to se my reaction (at least that is how it felt)? Was it the fact that I am proud of my trips, as they are the most important and meaningful part of my life? Or was it simply that I care about every comment somebody makes about me?

I came to the conclusion that it was a combination of the three. On one hand, I know my face reflected my initial thought ("who are you to say who looks ugly? The fact that you are elegant, does not make you any pretty"), and I believe at least one of my friends noticed it (I need to learn not to communicate with my eyes, too dangerous). I felt ashamed of myself for my thoughts, but at the same time I felt she deserved it.

I am proud of my trips as those are the one time a year when I am myself, surrounded by people I don't know, and the only chance I see of making friends who do not work in the same company I do. My trips are my social life, my dream, and my escape route when the thoughts of family come to my mind, and the reality of my age, and the low likelihood I see in ever having a family become apparent. While traveling I am free, I enjoy them and get the feeling that even if I stay a workaholic without family, my life is still worth living.

Lastly, I have never considered myself pretty, but somehow the statement that I am ugly just because I travel with backpack and not with suitcases seems unfair.

It is always interesting to see how a comment can generate so many thoughts and feelings, and reminds of a sentence heard many years ago, from a teacher in middle school: "words don't hurt. What hurts is the interpretation given to those words".

The 10 things I want to do before I die

There are days when I have to ask myself what the reasons for existing are: Out planet is overpopulated, and if we keep going this way, we will destroy it, and with it, we will destroy ourselves. Is it then ok that we all stay here? Or should there be some type of natural selection, without doctors to stop it?

Some time thinking into this, I came up with the 10 things I really want to do in my life. If those 10 are done, I believe my reasons will be achieved, and with it, let life and Darwin decide if I stay longer, or not.

The 10 things I want to do before I die are:

1- Have a beagle and name him Toby

No surprises here. I love beagles, and have been obsessed for years with having one. His name is going to be Toby, and he will be a beautiful, loyal (ie better than any human), and stubborn (just like me). We will travel together, and he will enjoy long walks with me, as well as he will enjoy just sitting around and letting time go by.

2- Pilot an airplane

Car-done, Bike-done, water vehicles- not interested. But airplanes are amazing machines. I would love to sit on one and simply decide where to fly (of course, with Toby sitting in the plane with me :) )

3- Learn to play piano

I have wanted to learn piano since I was 10 or 11. I like music very much, and enjoy classic music as well. I find musical arrangements, in which the background is played by a piano, magic, and want to play them myself.

4- See Emperor Pinguins in their natural habitat

And this before I am 30, as given the over-destruction humans are causing on the planet, they won't wait for me to grow old to go see them.

5- Be a voluntary teacher in a country in development

When I went to Nepal I saw what a need some countries have for teachers, and how much education is appreciated. I consider myself lucky in that I got an education, and at some point I want to give back to kids.

6- Get either a PhD, or at least one degree more

Overachiever forever

7- Become fluent in 3 more languages

Overachiever forever part 2

8- Live in Boston (again)

My hometown, my home, my favourite place in the world. If I only had 1 day to live, I'd spend it in Boston, or at least flying there, so that the end comes at home, and not in a cold foreign country.

9- Travel through Colombia: From Punta Gallinas (12°26'N) to the Trapecio Amazónico(4° 12'S)

Deserts, jungle, mountains, snow, beach, and much more. Colombia is a rich country, and growing up there was a nightmare. However, I am sure Colombia has much to offer, many wonders to admire, and I feel that anyone who tolerated their childhood there should at least have the right to go and explore it. Something good must be in it.

10- Write a book

I enjoy writing, and very frequently I tell myself stories. I don't write them down, why should I, but some day I will get the courage for writing and sharing them, in a book.

Istanbul