I remember:

... the April Fool's Day that I put a 10L bucket full of water on the front door. How I left that door a little bit open when I heard the car come over the bridge. It felt right on the tip of my father's head but no water was on him. How he said 'godverdomme' and forgave me directly after.

... playing the bullied girl in a musical.
My classmates loved that song the most.
I cried and they made me play an angel.

... the Mondays spend at my grandpa’s eating eggs and leaving for school with a chocolate milk mustache saying ‘This appertains with me’ to later wipe it away.

... the books, the library as Eden.
Words, sentences, and chapters; father, son, and the holy spirit.

... the first day I started working in agriculture, standing with my legs crossed.
A colleague said ‘oh you are one of those.'
It has been seven years, I never left.

... my eighteenth birthday.
On my way to bring a letter to ‘Onze Lieve Vrouwe Geboortekerk’.
Stating I would not be part of this church nor any other church.
Them calling my mother, that if I decided otherwise, I would have to bow to the bishop asking -begging- for forgiveness.

... the day an orange leaf fell into my arms and realizing I was sick.
A shock that lasted two years.

_WHO WAS I?_

The self, fluid and based on the perception of others. Instead, I will state facts that are part of the self.

I was born and to this day raised in Rijpwetering, the Netherlands. A village that has around sixteen hundred people. The name I was given was and stayed Fleur Lisa Wortman.

NAVIGATION