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An old, crappy TV, showing off the dreamiest scenes between men and women, always capturing an unrealistic image of femininity, self-worth and relationships.

As a female human being, I can say that I have experienced this phenomenon in my very young years of life already, probably multiple times.

As a girl, I was always in touch with “girly” things, such as fairy tales, which are always constructed on the ideal that the ultimate goal in a woman’s life is tied to male validation and marriage. Always the same old plot. Lost princess, gets rescued by strong man, they marry, she is finally validated and sees her worth and out of the blue she has reached her one and only ever life goal and everything’s alright.

No matter how much society changed in the 21 years I have been alive, I still experience judgemental looks when I make critical comments on the concept of marriage.

The older I got, the more I got in touch with the phenomenon of the other sex’ validation and relationships.

When I was a teenager, it seemed like your greatest achievement in life to have a significant other, just for the sake of saying it. It made you seem loveable. You had a piece of evidence that you are not the worst person on the planet.

Long story short: when you did not have a boyfriend, you felt like a looser.

All the childhood bedside stories, covered in glitter, being watched trough a pink girly bubble have truly left their impact on my further life.

Growing older and getting more in touch with the mysterious world of dating, I felt lost. I had many wrong associations about it but was mainly lost about how it worked.

It did not take very long until I stopped caring about who I actually dated, I was fine with it as long as they gave me the addictive feeling of validation.

Male validation became my crack, my drug. Once I felt validated, this rush of dancing dopamine hormones were having a dance party in my veins. I felt good, and I wanted to have this feeling last forever. It is as addictive as any other kind of drug.

After quiete a while of practising this toxic behaviour on a very regular basis, I found myself again in my therapists’ office being emotionally weak as hell.

I told her about my lack of self-worth, self-confidence and how much I crave male validation and attention to fill up this giant hole in my soul.

A couple sessions, breakdowns and panic attacks later, I finally let myself be convinced by my therapist and a couple friends to stop my craving for validation.

Nobody ever in this world will be able to kiss your shit away. Nobody ever will be ever to give you the self-respect that you don’t even dare to give to yourself.

So, after all this time of messing around with my own mind, I had to deal with being alone. Solitude. I was terrified of doing anything alone, and then I forced myself to force a lot of time by myself. Out of pure desperation, I probably read every article on the internet with detailed instructions on how to fall back in love with your own company.

After a while of spending time by myself, and mostly taking care of myself, I actually started linking to have time only for myself. I finally started to give myself the respect that I deserve (well done, it only took me 21 years of life to do that lol). All what I am saying here is just the retelling of my personal experience and feelings, please do not let it come across as a hate against the other gender.


Now, being very comfortable on my own, I finally feel like I have broken my chains from constructed society conventions about relationships, validation and marriage. For some people it might still be the call in life, for my personal case, I don’t know. I am way too young and juvenile to have it all figured out already. Let’s just see what the future holds.

What I want to say is, that no matter what your current position in life is, no matter on how much you are struggling, your worth is not based on the validation that someone else out there could possibly give you. You have to give yourself the validation, self-respect and worth first, before anyone else can properly do it. It is not fashionable to disrespect your personality or to constantly talk you down.

Your worth is never based on some hero who will save you out of your chaotic situation. You are worth so much more that you will ever think.

Nina xx


Moving Countries

Growing up between vineyards and croissants, on top of an invisible border, switching constantly between two languages, the concept of national borders, being proud of a piece of paper or isolation was and will never be something I will be comfortable with.

Ever since I stepped on a plane on the 8th September 2018, I have officially left the county where I grew up. Ever since then, the questions “why have you left the country”, “do you want to move back” haunt me. Also comments like “I couldn’t do that” are high in the game.

I completely get these questions and comments, at this young age it is not the most common thing to quit a country and it does raise curiosity once I mention it to someone else.

A lot of people especially last year told me to use my blog to talk about my experiences abroad. That does sound like a lovely idea, which would most probably be tied to a lot of clicks and a raising reader audience- but I decided not to do so.

Now, a year later, I feel a lot more ready to talk about it. Moving from place to place does change you a lot, inside and outside. The main and probably only reason, why I refused to talk about it online, is still that I don’t want to be put in the specific nationality box where I am originally from. I also did not want to be “the one who moved and talks about it online”. I just did not see it as a key part of my identity.

In the big picture, the action of making the decision to move abroad is only the smallest part of the puzzle. The key parts are adaption and finding your own identity.

Ever since I was fourteen years old, I kept talking about the fact that I wanted to leave the country. I grew up in a very small village, and I kept dreaming myself away in the wide world, where everything seemed more glamorous and better. I felt very judged in my environment, which was mainly not creative, and I could not be myself in the way I liked to. The relation between me and my hometown is as simple as a tragic love story of forced love: we just did not love each other back, we never will, but that is more than fine. I will always appreciate and love the home my parents gave me, but the city and the general environment was just not for me. Being born into an environment is based on pure coincidence, and there is never a guarantee that it will be the place for you.

Looking back, the decision to leave was never made at only one “specific” point. In my case, it was just a very necessary step to take in order to achieve what I wanted. Intentionally, I moved away for university, but after a while living abroad, I felt a heavy disconnection with the place where I am actually from, the place where I grew up. I see that as p part of the main thing that happens to you once you move away- you change.

When I look back, a year ago, I was such a different person. Jesus Christ, I was such a fragile baby. I am very glad of how I have changed over the past 12 months; I feel more like myself than ever before. Change is a good, and most importantly powerful thing. It pushes you, it challenges you, but it never throws you a step back.

I initially never intended on talking about this topic online, as I don’t see my nationality, my habit of moving countries every once in a while, or the place I grew up as an essential part of my personality. To myself I want to be judged by the things I have achieved or the things I went through but please don’t have the courtesy base your judgement on a piece of paper I have done nothing for, apart from being born into.

Looking back, leaving the country where my passport was issued, was the best decision I could have ever made. Moving countries is a fun thing to do, you learn a lot about yourself and about life itself I’d say. You will taste so much food you’ve never tasted before. You will see things you’ve never seen before. You will meet people you would have probably never met under other circumstances.


Yes. It might be true. Maybe you have to travel far in order to know who you are. Or maybe I am just a juvenile dreaming of a borderless world and the vision that traveling could save our curious souls from the evil.

We will never know.

Thank you for taking the time to read this piece.

Nina xx



My love, the road

Beside all the busy roads packed with mainstream advertisements in the big city, I found this lovely avenue at the other end, hidden like the town’s best hidden secrets.

Those hidden secrets, at some places you’d expect them to be the least, so perfectly hidden and full of character.

It is one of those streets that smell like the artistic combination of self-rolled cigarettes and artisanal coffee.

It is full of artists, residing in old, beautiful and colourful houses, painted in every possible colour from pastel to bold.

It seems like one of these old, dusty unopened books, full of magic and good stories.

Have you ever walked down such a road and wandered what could have happened on there? Who would call it its home? Who would have spent their whole life there? And who wanted nothing but desperately leave it?

All these questions, so many possible answers about a magical street which has probably formed the essence of someone’s life. They might have had the happiest days of their lives there, when they were a pure bundle of joy sparking out the magic of simply being drunk on endorphins and pure love. They also might have had the saddest days of their lives there, when they were breaking down in tears like a dramatic waterfall, with a lack of any means of energy.

Some of them might have shared their lives with another person here.

Others might have been loners forever, loosing themselves in poetry, music and art.

Whenever I walk down this road, I see all the bars which treasure memories covered in empty glasses of out drunken pints, I see vintage shops with pieces I fell in love with but most of all I see a soul.

The soul of something real. Beside all the billboards, the trouble, the hectic life. The place, where the soul chose to live.

When I walked down the road the other day, whilst the sunshine tickled my skin, I saw a beautiful house covered in blue pained, framed by greenery all around.

It looked like every child’s dream house, as if it came straight out the Pippi Long stocking novel.

A glimpse of an eye later, a man was stepping out of that dream of a place to live in. My humble daydreaming self could not resist the coincidence and told him how beautiful his house looked like.

The old man in the denim dungarees, looking like a loving father and grandfather, started talking to me. He told me how he bought the house, how he started a family in there and how his kids spend their childhoods in it. I imagined how beautiful it must have been growing up there, in a street full of art. Next to his house is his beautiful store, full of vintage clothes and other antiques. He has travelled around the world to fill it full of treasures.

Treasures full of soul and value like life itself.

Whenever I will feel the sun ticking on my skin again, I will always remember myself, walking down feeling the magic, the atmosphere and the art of one of the most beautiful and long winding roads in this world, wearing my best dress.



Nina x


Let’s just imagine.

Let’s just imagine something. Let’s shut the terrible news for a while. Let’s daydream of a better place, together. 

When I was a child, god knows what age, I can’t remember it, I first heard the chords of imagine. A song. A simple combination of melody and poetry.

My father put it on a record player and sung the lyrics on top of his lungs.

Since then, the song never left me, it is tattooed on my soul, and with no doubt, it will be there forever.

Songs, Music, poetry, art, fashion, all the creative magic of this world saves my complicated mind from going insane, and it is a very personal and emotional thing.

When you look at the news, the view is devastating. You doubt that tomorrow will even exist. When you look at social media, in most cases, you won’t get distracted by the world around you, you will get caught up deeply in it.

Creative pieces of work, whether it is written, melodic or visual, show our desires to escape into another world.

A world without mass shootings, war, competition, sadness, depression and all the other dark sides.

Creativity allows us to create our own world full of peace. Everyone has a different definition of it, that’s why it is so diverse. For John and Yoko, a way to change the world was to do a bed sit in all day, for other creative activists was it to go and protest in the streets.

When I first heard the lyrics of imagine and understood them, I felt a deep connection with the song. It was a song that expressed me, without having me to talk. It summed up everything I was, everything I dreamed of and everything I could imagine to be.

I have always been classified as a “daydreamer”, a “loner”. People used to say it so often to me that I started to believe that I am the only person in the world who is like that. Growing up in a small town, that happens very quick. I felt alienated most of my life. 

Music, art and fashion was my escape.

Looking back, the very simple lines of “imagine” sum up my personality and my beliefs as a person. For years, that song was (and still is) everything I held onto, it was the spark of hope that I am not alone in this world.

The song inspired me to live my life like I do now, living anywhere, everywhere, it does not matter, we are all one. I have a strong desire for peace, and I believe that all of us would be better off without borders and prejudice based on nationalities.

Living in country number three now, this belief is stuck very deeply into my soul. Once you have lived in various places like I did, you realise how unimportant nationalities are and that they are mostly just a reason to put someone in a certain box. 

Every one of us knows certain clichés about several countries, and once we know someone else’s nationality, we immediately assume that they are an example of what we assume to know even though we know next to nothing.

Of course, not everyone is like that, but some people out there on the planet are.

Borders, passports, clichés divide us in times when we should support one another and change the world for the better.

Just imagine how peaceful, how big, and how beautiful a world without borders would be.

Looking back through all the years I have been listening to various artists, no song ever apart from “imagine” had that much of an impact on me. I have been adoring music my whole life and I love how it expresses human emotions when visuals fail. I love how we connect it to certain events in our life, how it allows us to travel back in time. 

Some songs catapult me directly back into my childhood home, back on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate in my hand, watching my father cooking and singing beautiful songs.

The creative arts are mirrors of our human souls, they are reckless, they show every dark, hidden feeling. It is an inspiration to imagine new things, to change.


Just imagine what you want yourself and the world to be,

it’s easy if you try.

Nina xx


About the warm breeze that smells like Matcha Latte and Change.

Journaling is a wonderful thing. It is like the written form of a picture of a moment. Something that we capture and share or keep it to ourselves. 

I have been up to a few things lately, so let’s just sit down, shut the world for a while and have a read (grab a coffee if you fancy as well).

To recap it all, in all traditional chronological manner, we have to leap back in time to May 2019. My lovely Instagram feed and stories might suggest that the happiness is bursting out of my chest and I am having unlimited fun, all the time. Indeed, I had a lot of good times this summer, saw several gigs and festivals, but we have to get out of the dark to see the light in the end. 

Even though some things might look as dreamy and beautiful as anything in life could possibly be, it might not be the complete thruth. Sometimes, life is like a matcha latte: astoninshly beautiful from the outside, the first sip tastes horrible, but instead of putting something that feels toxic away, we intake it until we get used to it.

For my part, I have developed excellent skills over the years of intaking toxins, instead of keeping it away from me, as I simply did not have enough self-respect, I thought I was not worth it.

One day, when the days started to get warmer, the pints started to double, and everyone was having their dinners al fresco, I felt that heaviness in my chest again. I felt tired, unconditionally. The knot was back. I woke up shaking. Welcome back, anxiety. My forever unrequired friend.

Not much later, I find my chaotic self again, hiding from my mind’s darkness, in a therapists office, pouring my heart out. 

That felt like the right way of coping with it. Man, therapists have the potential to get rich out of this mind, I kept thinking.

Welcome back to rock bottom, here we go again. 

Even though I feel miserable inside, every phase of mine refuses to admit it. My therapist is trying very hard to explain me that I have to take care of myself in order to leave hell again, but my mind acts like a stubborn toddler at its best and simply refuses to believe that self-care is the key to feeling good again. I wake up shaking, feel empty inside, take everything to fill that void, nothing works so I starve or overeat myself. My life is determined by unhealthy extremes, and there seems to be no way out. Heaven knows I am miserable now is on constant repeat, and as I get used to my suffering lifestyle, my mind is very set on not believing any doctor’s voice in the world that the activity of “self-care” is a necessity.

At that point, feeling stressed and burnt out my own unrealistic and toxic standards, it simply won’t go into my head that switching off will bring me further than overworking will ever do.

I officially declare myself as non-healable but knew at the same time that my mind as well as my body will stop functioning one day if I continue like that. I can’t understand myself. Looking back, I could have if I tried. But I did not even try. 

One day, magically, due to a friend’s recommendation, I find Dolly Alderton’s book in a lonely WHSmith at a train station. The last one of its kind. I bought the book, and that is the point ladies and gentlemen, when I found my way back to one of my passions: reading and writing.

Like magic, once I started reading, I actually felt like I practise “self-care”- a term a refused to add to my vocabulary only a few weeks before.

As cheesy as it might sound, I started feeling better, and for some reason had the courage to delete everything toxic out of my life.

During the next summer months, fulfilled of warm wind seeking change, I slowly fell back in love with reading and writing. My self-diagnosed writer’s block started to make a permanent disappearance and I felt like I could use this platform again, without having the doubts of life before pressing the big, blue publishing button.

I realized that my creativity works very simple, what I perceive will be the inspiration to an outcome. If I don’t read, there won’t be any good written outcome.

Also, I realized how much I suffered from my own stress and intoxicating manners. I am fully aware of the fact that I am a born warrior, I simply need to learn how to handle it, not how to avoid it.

I decided to publish the truth, as I feel sick of all those perfectly written and visualised stories about summer. Of course, nobody of us wants to show how weak we can be, but if nobody even starts, nothing will ever change. I want to let anyone out there in this big wide world know, that you are not going alone through this.

If you hit rock bottom, don’t be afraid to speak up or seek help. Please do it before the rock rolls over you completely.

Even if your inside world is shaking like a never-ending earthquake, you lost sight of the light ages ago and you have to clue how to ever get out of this, please remind yourself that you are not alone. We are all going through this together and that makes it less daunting.

What kept me going, was not super healthy influencer approved smoothies or a weekly trip to the gym, it was the fact that a change is coming. The change has happened now, and for the first time in a million years, I feel balanced. By balanced I mean I haven’t had a massive down in two weeks, and I feel capable of handling stress without burning out.

The change was to move across the world. Changing countries. Again. Seems like a hobby of mine. With the difference that it is only temporarily this time.

For doing a term abroad, I moved to Toronto, Canada. I moved here roughly about a month ago. It is very lovely and the start of an amazing new chapter after I closed summer with going to a music festival in Budapest.

What I can say now, is that Canada is extremely different from my beloved Europe, but it is extremely interesting and challenging to live at the other side of the world. 

Country number three, here we go again.

As I don’t feel capable or wise enough to write anything valuable about living in this strange new environment, I will postpone it to my next journal entry. 

All I can say is that I am extremely overwhelmed by this new world outside of me, and I am constantly adapting. 

At the end, I never thought that having a bath, reading a good book and listening to Aretha Franklin could make me the possibly happiest person in the world, but it really does.

Do things that scare you. There is a world outside there waiting to be explored by you.


Have the courage to say yes. But most importantly, take care of yourself, it is so important. 

Nina x