The Motherless Daughters Club: And now I’ll always carry her with me

Ever since Mama passed away I’ve been looking for some way to keep her with me, besides just carrying her memories in my heart. Sometimes the memories aren’t enough to keep me going and I feel as if I need something more physical, something I can hold, wear or carry with me. The past 4 years I’ve just been looking around for mourning jewellery, but I couldn’t find anything that made me want to even consider using her hair or ashes for. My taste is a bit specific and I couldn’t quite figure it out.

You can do the craziest things with remains nowadays, from planting them into a tree, to turning ashes into diamonds!! Not only did I find it hard to find something I found beautiful according to my own taste, but also something that would suit her. I feel as if a lot of jewellery nowadays has lost the charm it once had. I can’t even remember the last time I spent money on jewellery to be honest! Anyways, I toyed with the idea of getting her ashes turned into a diamond for a while, but being a student, I simply don’t have the budget for it unfortunately.

But as time goes on, I felt as if I needed something like it, maybe I’ve just reached that stage of grieving where you just want something to cling onto. I can’t even remember how many times I’ve held and sniffed a shirt of hers, just because it still smells of her. I decided to go on the internet for some inspiration and quickly found the cheaper option of mourning jewellery. That option being lockets.

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It is probably the biggest and heaviest pendant I have ever had but it is just so beautiful

I’ve been crazy about lockets since I was little. I remember by sister and I giving Mama a silver locket with our pictures in it for Mother’s Day. I had one myself as well, with a picture of my childhood best friend in it. The idea of a pendant in which you can carry something I find amazing. But it would have to be something fitting.

I went on Etsy, as I often do, since Etsy is THE place to find interesting pieces, from garments to jewellery. I scoured through pages and pages of antique Victorian jewellery, so many lovely pieces, but I just couldn’t find it. Until one evening, while video chatting with my love and looking through Etsy once again, I stumbled upon this big, pinchbeck locket with floral patterns engraved into it. Despite its size, it had such an intricate feel to it. I don’t know what it was, but I was instantly drawn to it. However, at the time I couldn’t afford it, so I did put it on my wishlist, but wasn’t expecting to be able to get it. Such a beautiful Victorian piece wouldn’t be for sale long, would it?

Well, two weeks ago I decided to go check anyways and would you guess it? It was still up! After a bit of hesitation I decided to splurge and today it came into the mail! I opened my package and when I first laid my eyes upon it, it just felt right. It’s weird to describe, I was just overwhelmed with emotions. I found an old passport picture of her in my wallet, which I have put in now, but I know she would hate it. So I’ll keep it in there until I have found a better one. I’ll be flying to the Netherlands on Wednesday, so maybe my grandparents will have a better one lying around.

 


It was important to me that it was a piece of jewellery that I would love, but also something that would suit my mother. I’d say that I succeeded. My mother and I both love nature and feel a close connection to it. The engraving was something I instantly gravitated towards.

I bought the locket at this lovely shop called ”Vintage at Mums” on Etsy. The woman who runs it, Tracy, has an amazing collection of stunning antique pieces, which are definitely worth checking out! I know I’ll be wearing my locket with pride and even though I’ve only had it so shortly, it is already my favourite piece.

Do any of you out there have mourning jewellery, and if you do, what made you pick the pieces that you have?

I’d love to hear your stories!

– Naiyee

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My North Star

Last week my love and I had our one year anniversary and what a year it has been. He came into my life at the most unexpected time, but I couldn’t be happier that he did. Unfortunately we are not together right now, but in two weeks we will be, since we will be visiting my family in the Netherlands for Easter!

He and I had been friends for years and he decided to come over to Denmark from Finland to meet up in real life. I was still in a relationship at the time, but the chemistry was there from the start. We hit it off right away and had a blast. Shortly after he left, my then-boyfriend broke up with me and we decided to give it a go.

”We’ll take it slow” we said, but very soon after having said that we were sure that we were right for each other. We pretty soon talked about the more serious topics, marriage, kids, careers and all of that. Weirdly enough we agreed on everything. I felt funny about it at first. I don’t know how to describe the feeling, but talking to him calmed the constant chaos inside of me. I have always struggled with feeling grounded and in a way I still do. But just a simple phone call or a text of him reassuring me it’ll all work out seems to make all of the problems I have so insignificant as long as he was there.

I promised myself I wouldn’t put myself through the hassle of a long distance relationship again, but the heart wants what it wants. I booked a plane ticket to Finland to see him and meet his family and we grew even closer. Not just us, but I also instantly connected to his family. It all felt so natural. I found myself often wondering if it all wasn’t just too good to be true, but I guess this is just what it feels like to have hit the jackpot.

I don’t have a penny to my name, a small family far away, just the clothes on my back, a handful of friends and my precious pooch, but I can’t recall the last time I felt this happy. I’m thoroughly convinced it’s because I have found him and reconnected with my own family too. I feel as if I’m a tiny little boat in this big ocean, but as long as I’ve got my north star, I’ll eventually find my way back home.

Like Gordon B. Hinckley once said

”Love is like the North Star,
In a changing world, it’s always constant”

My love always tells me that everything will work out and I used to struggle to believe that. Because how can everything work out? Does it truly do that? But he has taught me that sometimes, it is okay to let go of the things I cannot control. And that is a scary, but comforting thought.

It feels like meeting him and his family too, has given my heart the capability to give love back a thousandfold. And for that I am grateful. Not just for them being in my life, but he as also taught me to appreciate my own family a whole lot more.

He is my north star and I feel grateful to have found him when I did. It has only been a year, but I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Have any of you out there found your north star? I would love to hear your stories.

– Naiyee

My challenge with practising self care

A week ago I went to the doctor. I have been feeling quite on edge for a while now and at first I brushed it off. I told myself not to be such a whimp and just keep going. A couple of weeks ago I hit a wall and I felt like I couldn’t even do the simplest of tasks. I either slept too little or too long, I had no appetite or I’d eat everything in sight, I had heart palpitations and my body developed small aches that I couldn’t quite explain. I also felt like I completely lost my grounding. So I mustered up the courage to go see my doctor and talk about my issue with stress.

My mom always called me a lazy person by nature and I’ve always hated it. So whenever I take time off I feel guilty. Guilty for not using my time better. My daily life consists of this ”rise and grind” attitude, yet this time it has finally bit me in the ass. My doctor told me to make spare time activities a priority, because ever since I started this course I’m currently doing at school, I’ve had to cancel them. There are just not enough hours in a day for me to be active, go to school, make homework, cook food, clean up while trying to maintain a somewhat existent social life. She told me to prioritise the things that bring me joy and give me energy.

So I’ve started to reflect a little.. How would I make this work? What can I do to take this stress away? I recently re-joined our local pole dancing studio here and I have been having a blast, but I feel guilty for not focusing on my homework instead. And as I’m writing this, at my favourite little café in town, I’m feeling guilty for not attending my pole dancing class.

The thing is, being so hyper-focused on being productive, I have lost myself in the process. And I have made the decision to cut down on some things that are incredibly time consuming, just so that I can have my hour or something a day that is not school focused. And I can already feel a huge difference.

I think this obsession with productivity nowadays makes a lot of people unhappy. I’m not telling you to be lazy, but I AM telling you to make time to practise self care. Be it taking a nice bath, eating that food you like, going to fitness or seeing a friend. We need to take care of ourselves first before we can thrive. And there will be guilt. It won’t be easy when you’ve been grinding all your life. But it is good to take a step back and just breathe. So yeah, I may not be doing my homework every day, but I feel a whole lot less on edge. I don’t feel the urge to be perfect all the time.

Happiness is so important. We only have this one precious life, shouldn’t we aspire to live it to our fullest and be happy?

Do you practise self care? If you do, how do you like to do it?

I would love to hear about it!

– Naiyee

International Women’s Day – Trying to be proud of myself

Happy International Women’s Day to all my lovely ladies out there! Not too long ago I wrote a post about how much I admire the amazing women in my life. Thanks to them I have managed to still stand with my head held high today. I spent all day thinking about what to write on a special day like this, but I just couldn’t figure it out. So after a tiresome day at school with far too much calculating formulas and balancing chemical reactions, I decided to sit myself down at my favourite café and have a drink. While scrolling through instagram, one of my very good friends Mari (withlove_skandihome on IG, if you love interior with a Scandinavian aesthetic, you’ll LOVE her feed) asked her followers to send her 2 reasons as to why they are proud of themselves..

Now I have always been insecure about myself. I don’t consider myself to be particularly good or special, so just the idea of finding 2 reasons as to why I am proud of myself was a challenge. Subconsciously I just automatically connect being proud of yourself or liking yourself with being self absorbed, which is SO not true. I mean, I feel like many people should tone it down with the ”why is this happening to me, I’m such an amazing person” attitude, but liking yourself and being proud of yourself is a really good thing, a thing I need to learn!

So as I was sipping on my matcha chai, while reading her question, I started wondering.. Why am I proud of myself? What have I done that could possibly be considered something to be proud of? But then I got reminded of a conversation I had a long time ago. A conversation where I was bringing myself down, as I usually do when people point out something that I accomplished. And then it hit me. In my short 24 years I actually have done quite some awesome stuff, especially in the span of the last 5 years..

At age 19, right before my 20th birthday I was the first one in my family to have a formal education and got my degree as a Veterinary Technician. One of my proudest accomplishments.

At age 20 I moved to a foreign country, a country I still reside in today.

At age 20 I lost my mother to cancer and I remember telling myself that I wouldn’t survive this. Grieving alone, living far away from my family, is probably the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. I was convinced I would never see the light and that I would never smile again. Almost 5 years later I’m still standing. I told myself I would never marry or have kids if she wouldn’t be there to witness it, but I’m opening up to these ideas again. Time has kicked my ass, I’ve grown bitter and my skin is probably about 6 inches thick, but allowing myself to fall in love with people and life again is making me happier and softer again as the days go by..

I went from not being able to speak a word of Danish to speaking it fluently in under 2 years. Danish is my third language and I am currently following an education that is taught in Danish as well.

I decided to take a huge leap of faith by starting a new relationship last year with an amazing guy who lives in Finland. Last year I spontaneously booked a plane ticket to go see him and I haven’t regretted that decision. I vowed to never enter a long distance relationship again, but the heart wants what it wants.

But what I am most proud of is the fact that in just 5 years I have managed to overcome my fear of the unknown. I took a leap of faith when I moved abroad, learned a new language, entered a new education and a new relationship. If I would have told myself this 10 years ago I would have laughed.

I used to be this perfectionist little girl who preferred to stay inside and preferably lived home with mom forever, but circumstances have driven me to do the opposite. It took my safe haven, my home, my mother, away from me and forced me to open my eyes and live in the real world.

You never know how strong you are until it’s the only option you have. I’m living proof of that and I am damn proud of it, because even when all the odds were against me, I still made the best of it. My strength is my superpower. And even though I’m cringing as I am writing this, because I dislike complimenting myself, I guess I can pat myself on the shoulder for writing this, too.

What are your reasons to be proud of yourself? I would love to hear from you!

The Motherless Daughters Club: Tis the season?

Well well, it has been a while.. I have to admit that with this busy exam period going on, I haven’t had much time to think about the Christmas season, but last night it just hit me. Christmas is right around the corner! Not being able to see my mother around this time of the year is tough.

Growing up we celebrated Christmas when my parents were still together, but my mom became a Jehovah’s Witness in my early teens, so after that I’d often go to my grandparents to celebrate Christmas there and it wasn’t really until I moved to Denmark that I actually started celebrating this time of the year.

But despite the fact that my mom didn’t really celebrate Christmas anymore in the last years of her life, I can’t help but miss her a little bit extra during this time. I see a lot of my peers going shopping for presents with their moms, and as happy as I am for them, I can’t help but hurt inside when I see it. Thoughts like ”Why can’t I do that?” or ”They don’t know how lucky they are” go through my head. Because I really do wonder sometimes if they realise how lucky they are. Something as simple as just calling mom to tell her how her day was or to ask her if she’s 100% sure if she wouldn’t like a tiny little Christmas present anyway is something I’d do anything for to experience one more time. But it will never be. And that hurts. The silence is loud. I want to get that phone call on NYE to wish me a happy new year, and damnit, why can’t I have that phone call?

Luckily for me, I have enough things to keep me preoccupied for now with work and exams. I’ll be spending Christmas and New Years with my Finnish family, so hopefully I won’t be feeling too blue, but I know not everyone who is part of this club is that lucky.

Tis the season to be with family and make memories for most. But for me, my sister and everyone else who lost their mom, tis the grim reminder that we’ll never make those memories again.

People often say that this loss loses its sharp edges and that you learn to live with the pain, but why does it for me feel as if the pain and burden only gets worse over the years? Because I still can’t talk about her without wanting to curl up and cry. She was still supposed to be here, she was supposed to see me get married and have kids. But she will never. And that’s unfair. It shouldn’t be like this.

To my fellow motherless daughters out there,

Stay strong during this time of the year. I’m thinking of each and every one of you out there. We got this. We can get through it.

Lots of love,

Naiyee

The Motherless Daughters Club: Would she be proud of me?

Today marks the fourth year since my mom passed away and it is tough.. Getting through the night and day without breaking down is difficult. On days like these I try to practise self care. I take a day off from work or school to allow myself to just be and cry if I need to.

During these four years without her, I often wonder how she would feel about the decisions that I make. Not having her around to ask for advice is still something I’m getting used to, even after four years. My life has changed a lot in this time span in so many different ways. But the one question that keeps me up some nights is:

”Would she be proud of me?”

I’m not necessarily a validation seeking person, not at all, but the opinion of my mother always meant a lot to me, which makes sense I guess.. Having lost my mom at a young age, the age where you may not be considered fully adult yet and not having to make any serious adult decisions, it is hard to imagine what type of advice she would give in certain situations. Not only that, but also what her stance and opinions would be during difficult times.

Everyone around me always tell how she would be proud and even though those words mean a lot, they don’t give me a lot of comfort, because they aren’t their opinions I need to hear in times like those. That being said, I am extremely grateful for everyone offering some kind of support and/or understanding. It is nice knowing that there are people out there who care. But I feel as if my mother’s words and advice are the only ones that can help me get through it, but she’s gone..

The best way of describing this feeling is like going all the way back to when I was small and mom and I would go shopping. When you’re small, these stores are HUGE! Imagine that and then losing your mom in that big store. But instead of having that uncomfortable and scary feeling slip away and feeling relieved when you find her again, she is gone. Because that’s what it feels like. I feel all alone in this great big world, knowing my mom won’t be there to find her way back to me.

I had to start my adult life without her, having to make a lot of really tough decisions without her. And even though in the back of my head I know that she would be proud, I can’t help but wonder.. I hope she would be. I would just love to hear her say it one more time.

Luckily for me, not all hope is completely gone. I have a great support system of family and friends who are there to pick me up when I fall and for that I am thankful. Without them I wouldn’t have made it through.

And to any of you out there who have lost their mother,

I’m proud of you for sticking through the hard times. You’re a badass and you deserve all the good things in the world. You got this, you always have and you always will.

-Naiyee

How yoga saved my life

Lately I haven’t been feeling very grounded. With school, exams coming up, trying to keep a social life and visiting family I have been nothing but busy. All of those long days and days away from home I have really not been able to practise yoga the way I want to. Not just in the physical sense, but also mentally. For the past three years I’ve been keeping my practise (somewhat) consistent, but this year has been really difficult!

I started my practise back in 2015, only a couple of months after my mother passed away. I felt very lost and as if my life had lost all of its meaning, so I decided to look for something to do.. I had been flirting with the idea of yoga years prior, but had never seriously considered it. I only saw the physical aspect of it, but never the mental aspects. The thought that I wasn’t flexible enough or skinny enough went through my mind a lot. But the more I thought about it, the more the idea of Yoga pulled me in. So I bought a cheap yoga mat and started following along with video’s on YouTube. At first it was only 15 minutes a day, but I could immediately sense how calm it made me feel.

During that period of my life my mind was racing. Thoughts about how much I missed my mother and my family back home, but also thoughts that were much, much darker. I felt the need to be in control of my life, since I couldn’t be in control of my mother’s fate.  I was yearning to find some peace in my life. Starting with yoga was scary to me. I was very insecure, having been overweight and bad with any type of ”exercise”, so this was a challenge. But I decided to face it head on and so I did. Soon I found myself on my mat ever. single. day. My practise started on my mat, but soon expanded itself into everything I do. I focus on how I breathe, how I speak to other people and take time to meditate a little, even if it is just for a minute or two. But it also made my relationships with other people better. I feel as if I have a deeper understanding of why people do what they do or say the things they say.. Before I used to be very quick to judge, not really paying people any time of the day and just living on the fast lane.

Yoga has taught me in times of stress to take a step back, reflect and ask myself: ”What is this teaching me?”. If something doesn’t serve me, I let it go. If I can’t control something, I let it happen. It has also taught me a lot about my own body too. Asana is one of the 8 limbs of yoga and asana means posture. It is what you see people do on their mats. Asana humbled me beyond belief. I used to see a pose and think: ”Wow!! I want to do it too, I’m totally ready for that!” even though I wasn’t. In the beginning that made a dent in my ego. Not being able to do a handstand or a middle split within 3 months bugged the living daylights out of me and even made me want to stop at times, but as my practise progressed, I realised that it really doesn’t matter. Sure, it is a fun goal to have, but that’s the thing. You should enjoy the journey towards those goals instead of only focus on the destination.

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This pose in particular I started practising about 2 years ago and I still struggle with it! Such a humbling experience every time I try it.

That lesson I could also apply to my real life. You see, after my mom died, I was waiting to die myself as well. I didn’t see any point in living anymore if she wasn’t there to see me do the crazy stuff I do today. I then realised that I am going to be around for a long time still, if I’m lucky. So why would I wait for that final destination, the day I die, while beating myself up about so much stuff that is not my hands? That final destination will happen, whether I like it or not, so I might as well enjoy the time I still have left. And that is how yoga saved me. It saved me from a life filled with emptyness and misery.

I might not have time or energy to practise asana every day, but you better believe I try to practise the other 7 limbs from the moment I wake up until the moment I hit the hay. And that’s the beauty of it. You are completely in charge of the way you want to practise as long as you are not forcing it.

Have you ever tried yoga?

-Naiyee