One year. Wow. It’s already been a whole year since I moved back to Hamburg, the city I love and where I feel at home. One year and so many things happened, so many changes, so many challenges, so many memories – great ones and not so great ones. It’s been a thrilling year, so I feel like writing a recap is obligatory to share my last year with you.
Oh, where to start? It’s time for a life update. I’m utterly sad that I don’t really find enough time for blogging anymore. Blogging as it was before is definitely over, but I guess that’s part of completely changing your life. And that’s fine. I’ve decided to blog about things that matter to me, topics that I find important and obviously all those changes in my life. Yes, I miss posting my outfits, but I’m happy to say that I still upload my looks on Instagram, even though I don’t really like that shallow platform. But nowadays, you have to go with the flow and there’s probably no better place to post what I wear than on Instagram, because it’s easy and fast and I can also show you my everyday looks without feeling bad cause I wanted my blog to be a place for high fashion and edgy looks, not only the stuff you can easily wear for running errands. I mostly show you my work looks now, which – thanks to my little job in the fashion store – luckily aren’t that boring (but it looks like I’m only wearing jeans anymore, haha! It’s just perfect for the job, comfy and easily combinable…) and from time to time, we shoot some outfits with store items that I like. My colleague is so nice to help by taking the pictures and she’s pretty good at it! I guess, I should hire her as my new photographer! :)
Well, but as today’s blog title says, I’m gonna write about failing – and fighting. And this is not easy to write. Right now, my life consists of fighting. Fighting to stay here in Hamburg, because it seems like I’m right back at the beginning, where I started last year when I came back – just with no money left. I’m seriously struggling and my situation is bad. Really bad. I’m not feeling great, I lost my second job, which was fun, due to the worst luck ever and it actually should’ve never been a reason to fire me because it’s just a natural risk of the work itself, but here I am, almost jobless again. All I have left right now is my mini job at the fashion store which luckily provides some money, but definitely not enough, not even enough to pay my rent – but that’s something I’m hopefully about to change cause what’s happening with our shared flat is also pretty bad and something I’m not taking anymore. I’m pissed off and I don’t wanna live in a shithole where the landlord just doesn’t care about anything but receiving way too much money. But that’s another story. My mental condition is that bad that even my physical condition is bad – I’ve lost a lot of weight, I’m not really hungry anymore, I keep becoming sick and I’m very tired. Tired of everything.
And I’m scared. I’m literally scared. I don’t wanna leave Hamburg, it’s the place I love, it’s home. Whenever I remind myself that I’m here, I feel like I’m exactly where I should be, where I belong to. And I don’t wanna change this. I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna say that I’ve failed completely. Right now, I “just” failed at being able to pay for living. That’s bad enough. I don’t wanna give up yet. Not everything I’ve already achieved in almost a year being back. Not living at my favorite place. I’m fighting. Probably not enough, cause I’m scared as hell, but I’m doing what I can. I’m trying my best. And I will continue to do so. But to be honest, May seems to be the last month I’m able to fight. I will have to find a job that pays for my life here. Otherwise, I have no other choice than giving up, even though this isn’t an option I want to accept yet. So here goes nothing: everything. It just has to work out this time.
Photo: Jacqueline Filmore
Well, I already mentioned it shorty in my December recap – and it’s clearly a story that needs more explanation. It’s not a pretty one and it definitely puts me and my character in a bad light, but I had no other choice, except for the one of giving up and even though I had to be the bad guy, the real asshole in this story, and it wasn’t the nice thing to do, it was the right thing to do.
Photo: Julia Marie Werner
It’s been a bit more than two weeks now, since I finally got divorced after about one year and a half. This was the last step of finishing a chapter of my life. I’ve been thinking a lot about what to write in this blog post. I feel like the divorce is putting a new label on me, even though I’m finally free. Even though I’ve been literally waiting every day for this moment, when my marriage is finally officially over. It felt like a huge weight lift from my heart when I came out of the court after those fifteen minutes, during which I had to see my ex for the last time and officially state that this marriage is over and that I definitely don’t pretend to make it work again. But being a divorced woman kind of labels me, even though it does not define me. This is something I will have to accept and surely will, as soon as possible. I’m glad that it’s over and I want to wear this label as proud as I can, because it all changed me in the most positive way.
The only thing is: I wanted to finally say something and had no chance to do so. You must know that our break-up happened without any personal contact. My ex decided to end our relationship taking the easiest way out: leaving me at my parents, driving back home alone without telling me so, hiding somewhere when I came after him, and then simply writing me a message on WhatsApp that it’s over. It was humiliating. I mean, the person I’ve spent 8 years with, decided to treat me so disrespectfully to end a marriage the most inappropriate way – via text message. And not even with an explanation. Back then, I decided to just take it like this and not say anything. But with the time going by, I wrote a letter to him which I actually wanted to give him on the day of our divorce. A letter which, at first, I was hoping he’d read because I had so much to say about the way he broke up with me. A letter which I almost forgot of after some time because it just became irrelevant – there was no need to say anything anymore. Just one last sentence.
But I didn’t say it. There was no chance to say it. So I’m writing it down.
I’m thankful for the past 18 months. Thankful for the chance to rewrite my life, to change myself, to be who I am now and who I’m going to be in the future. I’m not thankful for how I was „disposed“ but thankful for the decision to do it like this because it made everything easier for me. I’m thankful for the chance to understand that a person like this was never worth it to make my happiness and my life dependent of him, and to understand that I’m the only one to make my life the life I want to live. I don’t need someone else to make me happy.
So here it goes: