To remain untitled.

I’ve never actually written about my dad, and there’s good reason for this.

For the longest time I’ve tried to block out everything about my dad because it all hurt so much. The good, the bad, and the horrible.

My dad was the type of person that would do anything to make you smile and feel better. He would go out of his way just to accommodate you. It was his biggest weakness but also his greatest strength. But that doesn’t mean he had a lot of friends. A lot of people relied on my dad and talked openly with him about their sins and demons, but my dad never spoke of his own. His best friend died when he was 40 and his other friend died when he was 45.

I looked up to my dad even though I shouldn’t have. He was a cool dad, but a terrible father. He didn’t know how to discipline or punish us, mostly because he had no structure himself.
When I was held back in junior high, I was awarded a Blackberry.
The second time I was held back I was awarded a cruise. 

My father cheated on my mother, left his kids and moved in with the mistress. He lied to my mother all the time, and even worse, he lied to us, his kids.

With all of that said, he was still my best friend. When my mother moved to the States to go back to university, I moved in with my dad. At first all we did was fight, but as time went on and I went to therapy, we grew closer. He was my number one person. And I couldn’t have asked for a cooler dad.

My dad told my school my aunt was dying so I could skip and go get rotti with him.
My dad brought me to school 2 hours late because it was my birthday and he felt I deserved a Burger King breakfast.
He then ordered pizza for my detention class so I wouldn’t have to do the detention assignment.
He took me to get my first tattoo and he left me there as well.
And if that wasn’t enough, my dad took me to get condoms and lube when I got my first boyfriend.

My dad was the coolest. 

When I had my foot surgery was the first time I’ve seen him so scared. It didn’t help that I was paranoid and crying of pain either. He sat there holding me and when I finally calmed down, they brought me juice and Jell-o, which he stole both.

When my dad got sick he didn’t want me to know, but I found out and I had no idea what was going on. At first it wasn’t too bad, he had surgery and then we spent a lot of time hanging out at home, in his office.

We had a morning routine, where when I woke up I would sit in his office while he worked for about 15 minutes, then as I get ready for school he would make my breakfast and then we would walk together to the busstop while I had my breakfast and tea.

We also had an afternoon routine. He would wait for me to come from school, I would sit in his office, we would talk about my day and when I was done he would leave for work.

I loved it. I miss it. I miss him.

At some point my stepmother asked me to move out because I was a “hindrance”  to my fathers recovery. My grandmother didn’t even try to defend me, she basically helped me pack all my stuff up and helped get me out as fast as possible for her own convenience.

I remember at some point my father started chemo and I started skipping school to go with him. We would just sit in the room together and talk about anything and everything. Because I had already moved back in with my mom I had to lie to her about my whereabouts during the day, and when my father dropped me off at home after chemo, she just thought my father was bringing me home from school.

I think after about 6 months it was bad enough that he couldn’t leave home anymore and I took a bus to his house just to hang out with him. He slept a lot around those days so I would just watch him and make sure he’s okay.
When they put him in a special bed, I began writing letters for him, for when he was awake. And sometimes I would read him his comics even though his eyes were closed.

My father once cried after being inside for 3 days, so I decided I would take him for a walk in the front yard. I put his shirt on, grabbed his slippers and lifted him out of bed. He put his full weight on me and while hugging him we shuffled to the front door and down the steps outside. He was so happy. But we only got to spend about 2 minutes outside before he got a chill and I had to bring him back inside and cover him in blankets.

He would also have a lot of tea, as he couldn’t keep a meal down. Moringa was his favourite. And I remember giving him tea and he started to throw up, and I just cupped my hands together and let him throw up in my hands. I knew that was a big thing for me because I am extremely squeamish, but I would do anything for him, I didn’t care if  it was nasty or  if I got into trouble for it, as long as he was  safe and happy.

My dads side of the family put a lot of the blame of his sickness on me. They said things like “you gave him so much heart ache.” and “you were such a difficult child, he couldn’t focus on his health.”

My grandmother once said to me “because of you, he’s dying.” And that’s when I realised blood may be thicker than water, but I didn’t want to be their blood. That was also the moment I decided these people aren’t worth my time, my breath, my energy. So I backed off. I took my distance and in less than 3 weeks I cut them off completely. And I have never been happier.
I don’t understand how someone could blame the death of someone on someone they know. It doesn’t even matter how angry you are, you just can’t do that. Especially not to a child.

I know a lot of people say to move on, or that I should just forget about it, but blood is thicker than water and blood stains.

I tried to protect those people by not writing about it, but they don’t deserve anything from me, and  I don’t owe them anything.

I just need to be free of this.



College.. is it really for me?

So I moved my entire existence to the Netherlands and I’ve been here for about 2 months and it’s been great.. except for one thing.. COLLEGE.

College is by far my biggest concern ever. Especially since I’m really not the type of girl to even go to college. It’s not that I’m stupid.. It’s just that I don’t want so study something that I’m not 100% sure I want to do. And that is exactly what I am doing.

I am currently studying translating and interpretation, which trust me, is really as boring as it sounds. I translate and interpret between Dutch, English and Spanish, and if I continue with this study, I’ll be able to drop either English or Spanish. Now here’s the funny bit, I hate it.

I hate every second of my study and I’ve only been at it for 3 weeks. I’ve already taken exams to be exempted from my spanish classes since I already speak spanish and they’re currently working on basic spanish.

I’ve tried to find ways to make it better, like interacting with my classmates, but there are a few problems.

To start off, majority of them are really young (17 to 19 years old), and they’re just not as mature as I had to be at the age of 17 to 19. So we have very little in common.
Second of all, every time we do talk, all they keep mentioning is how good I am at spanish. I already know that. Like I’m not trying to be mean, or sound like I’m full of it or even have a big ego, but I already know how to introduce myself in Spanish and I can count to 10. So please, dismiss me from this class.

Now of course I do need a way to cope with my terrible study choices, and I’ve chosen to do so in the form of partying.

I go out more often than staff members have to appear for a shift at the pub. And I’m not kidding, I’m not giving an example, it’s a fact. I go to the same pub so often that I know the staff there, I know their schedules and I know how many hours they work. Now, am I an alcoholic? well.. I’ve thought about it. And I think it’s safe to say I’m not. I don’t have a constant need to drink, and if i don’t drink one day, I won’t be pissed off or lose my shit about it.

However I do think I have another problem. As I’ve mentioned before (and if you’re new here, hi, hello, prepare for some news) I am an extremely shy person. Alcohol helps with that. As soon as I’m 4 drinks deep I become an extremely social person. Everyone is my best friend. And I’ll tell you my life story in 2 minutes.

However it’s been two weeks and I have managed to make some friends at school. And as I write this I’m sitting in their kitchen, living the college girls life; Gossip and coffee.

I think my biggest hurdle was the age gaps (as you just read) but we have some common grounds; BOYS.
The well known “Boy” talk has been a great icebreaker, and with my Tinder track record, I can keep up. I have been on a few dates, and these girls like details, which I am more than happy to provide, especially since my sister is absolutely DONE with it.

But is any of this relatable to them? I constantly second guess everything I say and ask, whoever they have realised I’m just the type of girl to ask whatever comes to mind without thinking twice.

You know what? I’ll just take a good couple of months to gather my thoughts and I’ll bring you an update when it feels right.

Love, Kamla.


This post is pre-written and scheduled to publish on the day of my departure. But it’s written the night before, after what would be known as my last day on this island.

I woke up, pretty excited today, I had a family brunch scheduled, and I haven’t been to one in 3 years, let alone host my own.
I woke up to find 6 texts in my phone from my family group chat and one of my friends.
I listened to the first out of four voicenotes where my sister gave a weekly update and went about my first business of the day; coffee.
I then sat down to listen to the three remaining voicenotes, all from my mom, talking about my sister, my family, our weekend and finally, me.
She mentioned how she’s preparing to adjust to me leaving and how she’ll miss my sense of humor, and how she can think back to when I had the worse sense of humor, and would try so hard to be funny, but never was. My siblings never answered.
We prepped for the brunch, made some eggs, bacon, croissants and prepared whatever else was needed.
My family came, we ate, talked and hanged out.
the rest of the day was pretty irrelevant,

But now, I just came out of the shower, and I had to sit and write. I cried while taking a shower. I spent my last night, in my room, watching a movie. I should have been with my mom.

I also realized, this is it. the pact is over. We will never be in this situation ever again.

I thought about how I miss my dad, and i wish he was here to see this. But he’s not. It’s been 5 years of me telling myself I’m okay. And now that important stuff is happening I’m not.

So that’s it. I’m going to go sleep in my moms bed, because I already miss her.

With love and overwhelming tears, Kamla.


The term “friends” on this island is a loose term.
Very loose.
You talk to someone once and they think you’re friends.
People on this island feel insulted by the term “acquaintance”. But that’s exactly what you are.
Even worse, people are surprised that when you drift apart and you both grow to be completely different people that you’re not even “acquaintances” but instead you’re now “strangers”. And that should be totally okay, but it’s not.

I’ve cut a lot of people off in the last year. Strictly to make myself happy. And it’s not like we had a difference in opinion in food or beverage, but instead I cut them off because they didn’t believe in education, self respect or independence. Things that I find build a strong character and a great person, things they didn’t value.

With two out of the three, we separated quietly and went our different ways and just sort of ignored what happened. I mean, I wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed, I just didn’t feel they deserved an explanation. They just weren’t worth my time and energy anymore.

The third and final one was a little more different. I didn’t feel it was worth my time and energy to give her an explanation, but when she asked I thought I would give her the most direct answer out there. Unfortunately that led to more questions and accusations. “You didn’t care how I was doing” well, to be frank with you, in the last 6 months, no, I really did not care. You are not my problem. You are not my responsibility. You are not my friend.
Before those six months I would ask you and you would give me a superficial answer or even better, you wouldn’t even reply. So after that, why would I even bother? You’re only sad because now you don’t get the attention and worry that you used to because everyone is tired of your games. So that’s it. I am tired of chasing you just so that you can “feel important“.

Aside from cutting people off, certain strangers became an acquaintance once more, and then leveled up to friend. Introducing to you once more, Rae.
Me and Rae went back about 6 years, when I was with my ex-boyfriend. Rae was his best friend, and that’s how a stranger became an acquaintance, and then a friend. But then me and my ex-boyfriend broke up, and I changed schools, and I hadn’t seen Rae in 2 years. And then I did, when she transferred to the school I went to. But we still didn’t talk, because we were strangers at that point. Finally, on the eve of graduation, I walk into my make up appointment and there she is, sitting and waiting to be picked up. And my first thought was “Shit!” mostly because I thought she thought I was a bitch because, SURPRISE, I have a MEGA resting bitch face. But instead she says “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken at school.. I just didn’t know what to say.” And then I thought “SHIT!” because I just judged the least judgy person I know. And I replied back with “It’s okay, things were awkward, and we’re different now.” And we laughed, and it was fine. We didn’t talk at graduation, but later in the week, while I uploaded some snaps to my story, she replied to one of them, and we got to talking and I asked for her number and we texted back and forth, and I remembered why we were friends in the beginning. Rae is by far the most accepting person I know, and she tries to be as honest as possible whilst still being gentle.
Rae taught me that it’s okay to live your life, and drift apart, but she also taught be how to come back to someone.
After realizing all this, which took about 2 hours, I decided I would inform her about my unhealthy obsession with the fire department, and asked if she wanted to go with me. She was pretty surprised as she replied back with “What, this week already??” BUT! she went with me anyways, and we had a great time talking and laughing.

So after all this, I realized, I’m okay with leaving people behind that made me unhappy, but I also need to be okay with accepting people that have a potential to make me happy.

So from your friend, acquaintance or stranger, I hope I can teach you something new today.

With love and acceptance, Kamla

Dear seatmate

I think in this final week on the island it has finally kicked in that I am actually leaving. And I’m not sad about leaving but I’m anxious about the flight and who I’ll have to sit with for 10 hours.

I don’t do too well with big changes and new people.
So here’s a letter to my seatmate.

Dear seatmate,

My name is Kamla and I’m probably the most anxious person you’ll ever meet.
During this flight I’ll be taking all different types of medication and drops to help with my anxiety, so please don’t look at me in any weird way.
I’m going to offer you some gum at the beginning of the flight, that’s me trying to be nice, so accept my gum even if you have your own.
If I feel comfortable with you, I might invite you to play a game of Uno with me. And yes, I keep a deck in my backpack.
If I don’t feel comfortable with you I would probably just keep my headphones in for the whole flight. Even when my Ipod dies.
You may see me writing on my blog during this flight, but please pretend you didn’t notice.
I’m also going to be doing face masks on the flight. They’re my face masks and no, I will not give you one.

All love and trembles,
Your weirdo seatmate.

I hope whoever travels with us reads this, and I hope whoever sits next to me understands.

I know it’s not likely that this very specific post will be read by that very specific person, but a girl can dream. Right?
Anyways for now all I can do is more breathing exercises and lots of tea and coffee to keep my soul happy.

With love and anxiety, Kamla.

“Not a bucket list” bucket list.

aSo as my days on the island come to an end, I’ve started up a bucket list, except for the fact that I am not actually dying. But it’s basically a little list of things I’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance to do.

Keep in mind, my list is very short because my siblings were just here 7 months ago and we had similar bucket lists, and a lot of it was completed.

So lets get to it.

The bucket list:

  1. Watch the sunrise
  2. Climb Hooiberg
  3. Go to Baby beach
  4. See a fire truck from up close
  5. Visit the police academy
  6. Go beach hopping
  7. Go bowling
  8. Eat at places I’ve never been before

Okay so first thing I did was go Beach hopping with my friend Natasha, we kicked it off with the Beach at Mangel halto. Then we moved on to Catalina cove, where we sat and fed some birds for a good hour, and then we went to Tres Trapi. This is where shit hit the fan. Right as we’re getting ready to leave, a car pulled up and 3 prostitutes stepped out with an older gentleman. The prostitutes started taking pictures of each other and after about 2 minutes, one of them was topless in the picture. meanwhile the old guy was struggling to put on sunscreen as continued to be ignored by the ladies he paid for. After about 15 minutes, a second car arrives with 2 other prostitutes and 1 young guy. The women greeted each other and you could clearly see they knew each other. That’s probably because majority of prostitutes on the island live in the same neighborhood. After a good 10 minutes, a father and son showed up, and we knew we had to watch how the father would try to explain this to his son. Unfortunately our show was cut short because the father and son decided to leave. And as they left, so did we.

Next up on the bucket list was watching the sunrise. However I decided to combine a few of the projects into one big project. I woke up at 4:45 AM on a Wednesday morning, Missieanna and Viviana came to get me at 6:00 AM and we went to Hooiberg. We got out the car and without stretching or warming up and started bolting up the stairs. The sun was supposed to rise at 6:23 AM and we had a couple of minutes to get to the top. We had 550 steps to conquer, but by 50 we were all out of breath. I forgot my inhaler that day and I was having an extremely tough time going up the steps. The good news was that we were Post tropical storm Don, so it was actually pretty cloudy that morning so by the time we did finally make it up there, the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. We then sat and talked for a good 30 minutes and then went back to the car. After that we decided to go to Baby beach. We stopped by a supermarket, picked up some drinks and snacks, and we were off! We had a good time at baby beach, except for around 10, the remains of the storm kicked in, and we got a heavy downpour, lasting for about 45 minutes. We were freezing and at some point I had to pee so I decided to in the water, which was surprisingly super warm, even though I didn’t even pee yet. After a good couple of hours at baby beach, we were dead tired and went home.

Third project was the Fire Department. I had no idea if they would let me take a tour or if I was even allowed to see the truck, but we had to try. On a Friday morning, at around 10:00 AM, Rae came to get me and we were on our way. We came in and met Mr. Croes. He was really surprised but also ready to help! He took us to see the big truck first, as the other trucks were out. The first truck was the one with the bucket up top, and he told us what it’s used for and who works on the truck. We then got to see the inside of the truck and we even got to climb onto the truck. Then we got to see the Office on wheels which is decked out with phones and white boards on the inside. He explained that when there’s a big fire they’ll bring the office on wheels and they’ll sit and make a plan in there. When we were almost ready to go inside, the final truck arrived. The truck with the hoses and tanks and we were so ready. Mr. Croes said goodbye and we met up with Mr. Giel. He started to explain about the cabin and who sits where and who does what. Afterwards we got to look at the difference between the trucks and then finally we get to the good stuff. Mr. Giel brings out a pair of boots, a coat and a hat. I get to get all dressed up and I climb onto the truck and its picture time! I was so excited! Over the moon! For so long I’ve asked my mom about the fire department and I was finally getting all of the answers. After all of my childsplay, we got to go inside to the 911 Center. They showed us how the computers work and how they find houses and how to track all of the trucks. We spent a total of 2 hours there and after that, it was finally time to eat. We went to Craft Coffee & Bar, had some waffles and fruits and had a good laugh. Rae really helped make my dream come true.

On saturday me and my mom decided to eat out for lunch, so we went to Antesala. A cafe that I have never been to but I was always intrigued. We walked into a beach themed cafe with a very relaxed feel. We sat down, looked at the menu and ordered. After finishing our salmon wraps we decided we were STILL hungry. Mostly because we had an extremely early breakfast. So my mom ordered a Chinese Chicken soup, and I ordered the BLT Avocado burger. Ya girl was hungry. It was a little bit of a wait, but totally worth it! We talked a lot, specifically about me leaving and what could help make my transition easier. At some point I looked at my mom and I wanted to cry, because I don’t want to leave her behind. But it’s time. After eating we went over a list of errands we had to accomplish for the day and we were on our way.

As for the remaining projects, like bowling, I’ll do my best to make it happen. However the police academy is closed during summer break so I guess I’ll do that if I ever come back to this island.

But for now? For now I’m satisfied.

With love and ambition, Kamla.

The big move!

I’m currently preparing to move away from this tiny island, over to a small city in the southern part of the Netherlands.

Am I excited? Yes.

Am I nervous? Heck yes.

For the most part, my prep included getting rid of a lot of things, throwing things out, donating things, and attempting (but failing) to sell a few things. I chose to do this over a long period of time since I am emotionally attached to everything and need to first detach before getting rid of it. So i’ve been cleaning and prepping since February. I’ve done well so far, however my biggest challenge was to not buy more make up. My last make up purchase was in April and then I went cold turkey. That’s all fine now though, I’ll get new stuff when I go to the Netherlands.

I think the biggest thing that makes me nervous is that I have to leave my mom. now don’t get me wrong. We argue and disagree like any normal mother and daughter. But its also just been us for so long. Since my dad died it was us. Two of my siblings were already abroad and my other half sibling doesn’t live with us, but instead with his own mother. So it was Kamla & Gardenia. With the good, the bad and everything in between, we took it on together. As my family fell apart, it only became more clear to us that we really need to rely on each other. My mom is a tough lady, and she can be a little cold, but its all with good intentions.

So now I’m leaving my mom. And I’m sad about it, but I’m also really excited.

I’m gonna move in with my sister. My big sister! We found a nice big apartment in the city center, and we have all these plans for the different rooms and the different spaces. We’re all about green/nature vibes, which is not at all my own personal style, but with my sister, I look up to her so much that I want to do whatever it is that’s possible to keep her happy.

And before you start judging and saying shit back to me, I have my own room where I can do whatever the fuck I want and design it however the fuck I want. So our common spaces are going to be based on ideas my sister wants and I’ll be picking and coordinating colors and furniture. My sister likes plants and I like low maintenance plants that I can’t kill. We’ve compromised that I’ll do my best but she knows it’s all new to me. We have also agreed on an indoor herb garden for the kitchen, which I have no idea how to do or what that entails, but she seems confident.

I’m so happy to be with my sister and to laugh with her and relax with her and just to soak her in.

I’ve missed my sister more than anyone could ever understand. And she said she would cry when she sees me, but I know I will. I’ll be so happy that crying would be the only thing I could figure out what to do.  Aside from hugging her, of course.

My sister is who I am most comfortable with, Who I am happiest with. My sister is my home.

So I’m about two weeks away from being home, and I can’t wait.

With love and excitement, Kamla.