I wish I was in Amsterdam today, because it`s Anne Frank`s birthday. She would`ve been 88 years old.

You left a diary, which made you world-famous. You expressed your thoughts, feelings and dreams to your friend “Kitty”. Despite the circumstances, you dreamed about a future. You wanted to travel to Paris and London and study history. You loved history. You wanted to be a journalist and/or a writer. Let`s face it – you knew you could die, but you also knew you could survive and live on. Unfortunately you died, but Miep saved your diary and gave it to your lovely dad, whom chose to publish it, despite the criticism he received. So many years later, people still find your diary inspirational and motivational. I found out about you in sixth grade and you`ve been there ever since then.

Thank you for everything you`ve done for me and everyone else. You died too young, but you left your voice, you left a melody that`s still played all over the world. To me, you symbolize love, hope, courage and dreams. Thanks for never giving up and for refusing to die. Happy Birthday, Anne.

Your birthday has always been special to me, but this year it`s a little more special. I can`t wait to see your hiding place and be a little nearer you. 




I don`t know if you, who`re reading this, know this. But I want to write. I want to become an author. And for several months, yeah, perhaps we`re even talking years, I`ve been having this really great idea. I imagine astonishing scenes in my head, they appear right in front of me as if they`re real and I try to understand what it`d be like if I were a part of it all. I have so many thoughts and feelings that are waiting inside me. Do you know what the truth is? I want to start writing my first book right now or maybe next year.

In my culture and environment, being an author is nonsense to many people. I`ve been told by people, especially by aunties that women shouldn`t work, but if they absolutely have to they should do something great. You don`t earn anything by writing novels and poems. Writing is useless, no one has ever come far by writing. Yeah, because Shakespeare, Charles Dickens and Anne Frank are people that never have existed, right? I`ve been told to stop dreaming. It`s better if I stay at home and learn how to cook. My place is in the kitchen. It`s by the way a shame for girls to be “out there”. Her face shouldn`t be on covers. No no, that`ll ruin her reputation, not to mention her family`s honour. tumblr_nz2atbFq601r8xs2bo1_500

I`ve been wanting to be a writer for years. As a little girl, I used to draw a lot. Then I found out that God had given me a gift. No, two gifts. Pen and paper. I started writing and I`ve been writing ever since then. This blog is perhaps only a tiny part of it all. I write a lot that I don`t share with anyone. I keep a lot to myself.

Nobody can stop me from following my dreams. I might be a little quiet today, but I won`t remain quiet forever. So dear “aunties” and “uncles” who`re trying to stop me from pursuing my dreams, who`re trying to tell me they`re unreachable and useless – you`ll never be able to stop me. Try as much as you want to, but you`ll never be able to rule over me. You`ll never be able to mute me. Too bad I don`t care as much as you want me to. I`ll walk by and wink at you. Don`t worry, I won`t starve my husband and my eventual kids to death, but II`ll always be writing and one day you`ll find a book I`ve written in the shops. I`ll write books about whatever I want to, yeah, maybe about what people like you do.

Don`t tell me I never warned you.