Lies, freaking lies!

Evlilik-SiteleriFor some time now my mum is helping her niece to get back on track with her life. Poor girl lost her way somewhere along childhood without a mother and later reconnecting with the crazy parent. Once my mum called me completely annoyed and destroyed by what the ‘mother of the year’, let’s call her Ellen, told her daughter Maggie.

But first you need to understand the background story from the past many years to fully comprehend how fucked up the situation is.  Maggie lived with her father, who started a new family with another woman. Ellen was one of these mums who try way to much to be friends with her kids rather than a mother. She not only skillfully managed to embarrass her children in front of less or more significant others, but also frame their minds in a way that it is completely fine to lie and pretend. Maggie got pregnant at the age of seventeen. I am not trying to defend her here or anything like that, I truly think that it was Maggie’s and her boyfriend’s fault completely.


I guess all of you had “The Talk” with your mum or dad at some point during your teen years right? I remember mine like it was yesterday. I was lucky enough that my mum was not only an amazing, skilled nurse, but also one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. She carefully explained to me everything about pills; how they work, how to be consistent with taking them the same time every day, how they could affect me, etc. So, when I actually went to see a doctor I knew almost everything and was able to make a decision about my body. At the end of the day, no one else could decide what to do with my body but me right?

As far as I remember I tried to talk to Maggie about sexual safety as well. As soon as I met her boyfriend a little control light came on in my head and I knew I had to talk to her. I thought, because all of our lives she kind of admired me and followed my steps, I would be able to convince her to take care of herself.

‘I’m not going to gynecologist!’ she exclaimed as soon as she understood what I was trying to say. Asked why not, she couldn’t give me a good explanation except a vague excuse, almost whispering ‘he can’t have children’. I didn’t want to believe her, because anyone could tell you they can’t have children, but really, he wouldn’t know unless he tried for one and went to a doctor to check his swimmers, right?

Maggie didn’t want to listen to my argument that he might have said that because he didn’t want to use protection. Trying to threaten her with HIV and other sicknesses didn’t work either, so I just left it thinking that at the end of it all she’ll regret her choices. Especially since her boyfriend was a total asshole and knew from the first moment I met him that I don’t like him one bit. Well, would you like someone who treats your every word as wrong and corrects you all the time thinking he’s the smartest guy on the planet?

So, I went back home to London, (at the time I was visiting Poland) and it wasn’t even a year since my mum called me announcing that Maggie got ‘knocked up’. Was I even surprised? At first, I remembered thinking that I would actually be the first one to have children on this side of the family, a lot later than that…

Of course, my dear reader, I can hear your thoughts now suspecting Maggie’s parents didn’t help her right? Oh, you’re so right. Well, her father offered her to stay living with him until childbirth and then they would sort something out. The mother didn’t bother at all. The amazing boyfriend and his father took Maggie to their hometown 300 miles away from her family.

Right now Maggie lives over in England at my mum’s house trying to sort her life out. Flying over to Poland all the time to court fighting for her good name and her daughter. Over the years of demeaning her, calling her names, sending her to psychiatrists and fighting in court trying to get her rid of her rights to her three year old daughter Maggie fights to get back to normality. And she does get better over here…

And then her amazing mother tells her to get back with her favourite son-in-law (probably because both are fucking crazy). And to top all that she tells her;

You have to impress a man to make him stay by your side.


When I heard this I thought I’m going to get a fit of hysterical laughter. How could a mother tell her daughter to get back to someone who was bullying her all the time? How could a mother tell her daughter that she has to impress a man to get him? Call me old fashioned, but

  1. It’s the other way round,
  2. Men actually like a challenge so when you put yourself out there on a plate ready to be consumed by the man, that is all that would ever happen: ‘consume’ and leave, because what man would stay with a woman that throws herself onto him? He’ll think what’s there to stop her doing it with every man she meets – therefore, it automatically means there is nothing interesting about that girl.
  3. Since when pretending and trying to impress someone, just so they like you, works out? Lies will have to end one day, what’s left then?
  4. I guess a question of how come her mother never has a proper relationship with anyone is answered now. Throw yourself like a meat to him and he’ll eat it all leaving the bones for the dog.


I hope no girls out there in the world follow stupid ‘impress him’ rules. Men are like us, they really do want a good relationship and maybe a wife and kids one day,  but throw yourself at him asking to marry you and he’ll run as far as possible. Be yourself, be interesting, nurture your hobbies, do what you love to do, and a man will love you for who you are… Isn’t that right?


Weekend in Cheddar

Weekend in Cheddar. I’ll let the pictures tell the story today.

Getting to know my camera all over again after such a long break.

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Socially Anxious

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Green-Eyed Monster.”

The Green-Eyed Monster


Today’s daily prompt encourages to write an anonymous letter to someone we’re jealous of. I’m not actually jealous of anyone. I truly think that jealousy is completely pointless, each and every one of us is different, why should we all try to look /be/act the same way?


I actually wanted to write about shyness. How it all begun and how it formed me as todays twenty-something young adult. But, I decided to give it a chance to combine the two together. So… here goes nothing.


Dear Amazing Confident Beautiful Girl,


In the past, I was absolutely jealous of you. I could envy anything you had, starting from your super flat belly and flawless skin to your unconditionally confident manner, which made the whole world love you. I don’t envy you. I’m completely different and I’m fine with that. Over the years I was trying to follow the image of a perfect girl imposed on us by the media, glossy magazines, super-skinny skin-on-bones models that I completely forgot to embrace the beauty within me. I’m over that now. I eat anything I want to and I don’t feel guilty about it (unless my belly feels like exploding after a three course dinner with my favourite brownie with melted chocolate inside). I am skinny, and when I do my workouts I feel amazing inside and that’s helping my body too. I guess you should envy me, because I’m a healthy, pretty girl who doesn’t need to starve. I win. 🙂

But that’s not really what I wanted to write about. I got carried away a little bit.

Did you know that shyness is a social anxiety? Some experts think that it might be due to people getting stuck at the normal stage of shyness that all children go through between the ages of three and seven. I believe that to some extent. Let me tell you how it all begun for me…

First grade – school number 1. After a month in this school my mum crated a big row about my tutor and how she treated children. I don’t remember it well, but from what I remember the teacher had her favourites and those who weren’t her super students didn’t have a voice, they were only stupid kids who didn’t know anything and couldn’t behave properly. On my last day at school we went for a trip around my hometown, after the trip Paula and I told our mums what the teacher was doing, we never went to that school again. Paula was my best friend back then, unfortunately Mrs. Evil Teacher hated her. At one point during our trip she grabbed Paula and started jerking her and shouting at her, something along the lines that she was a stupid kid and couldn’t behave like a normal person, etc. As we were only children Paula started to cry and I, completely baffled, was speechless for a while. As soon as we were released to go home Paula and I decided we are not going to school ever again. Our mums created the biggest row ever! The whole school heard them complaining to the headmaster how unprofessional the teacher was. They moved us to another school with an immediate effect.

Still first grade – school number 2. Everything seemed fine. I loved our new teacher, she was one of these people who loved their job and she was very good at it. We were welcomed to the class and she tried to ease us in so we didn’t feel left out, because the rest of the pupils knew each other since kindergarten. Everything seemed really good, but soon after my teacher moved me up to the front row suspecting I couldn’t see properly, and after contacting my mum and a visit to the opticians, I had to put an awfully ugly pair of glasses on my nose and pray I was invisible. Kids are nasty when they don’t understand they’ve upset someone. Once I was so embarrassed trying to hide in my chair as low as possible that I actually missed most of the lesson, when asked about the seasons of the year and the position of the sun for each of them I had to admit that I didn’t know. Everyone laughed at me. I sat back down covering my face, forcing myself to think about something else so I don’t cry. I didn’t want to speak in front of them ever again.

Third grade – school number 3. If you thought that school number two was bad, then you have to read about school number three! A third school in my student career and I was just 9! Well, this one was purely because we moved to the other end of the town and my mum wasn’t completely happy with me travelling on a bus that far. In this school, I didn’t have Paula anymore, so I was absolutely on my own! Everything seemed to be fine until my teacher told the whole school where I lived. Long story short, my parents got their first own place, a council flat in one of the buildings at the very end of the estate, beyond that were just fields of wheat. These buildings were famous for its occupants, which in majority were alcoholics and all kinds of families put on the very end of the social importance. In simple terms these people were poor and for most of the others, not worth knowing. Kids actually didn’t pay attention to where you live, but some of their parents were awfully prejudiced. My teacher was one of them. One day we had a fun day planned and loads of different competitions. One of them was to peel a potato without splitting the skin. The person with the longest peel wins. My nanny taught me how to peel potatoes a long time ago and just before she taught me how to peel one without splitting the skin at all! I won. Of course, to put me back in my place (which was being one of the slums) she said; ‘At least you’ll get a job peeling potatoes when you grow up. Everyone! We have a winner. Looks like some people are only useful for one thing.’

Everyone laughed. One boy quietly congratulated me, but quickly went back to his (better class) friends. Somehow I survived the rest of the day, but as soon as I heard the bell ending classes I run back home crying my eyes out. When I got home mum asked me what happened. ‘Why? Nothing’ I replied.

‘Your teacher called. She wants to meet me. I’ll go tomorrow during your classes. Do you know why she called?’ mum said, I had no idea.

The next day I found out why she called overhearing their conversation. The teacher told my mum that I have no skills. Mum got worried that I can’t learn a single thing started studying hard with me, and quietly talked with my dad about setting up a business for me when I grow up so I could achieve something in my life, at least some decent earnings. Of course the teacher was bullshiting. She only said that because I lived in the ‘slums’, a year later when our teacher changed my mum went to talk to her about helping me out to learn the basics and some life skills. The teacher was completely surprised, asking my mum what she meant. She said that I had no problems and mum shouldn’t worry about me, whoever said I wasn’t smart was crazy. Did any of your teachers tried to tell you you’re nothing only because where you’re from?

I hated being shy my whole life. I wanted to be like you amazing girl – confident, beautiful, funny. But I only was scared. Scared of being laughed at, called stupid, meeting new people and what they could think of me, speaking up even when I knew I was right, only because someone else might think I’m wrong and argue with me. I was so shy and had a completely shattered self-esteem. When I found out we’re leaving the country, I took it as a chance for a new life. Back then I didn’t know it would change me into a person I am now, I only hoped to start over and be less shy!

Of course it wasn’t as easy. I got used to being shy so much it took me years to get out of my shell. Even now when I’m meeting new people sometimes my body reacts in a self-defensive manner, trying to shut them out before I get to know them. It gets better though. Today it all becomes easier, but such a social anxiety can bring you down so low that you’d think there’s no hope at all. I don’t give up, I learned that now. But… There’s still so many people with problems similar to mine… and you… confident, amazing beautiful girl instead of being a bitch and laughing at shy girls you could help them like themselves and teach them to love being different and confident. You’ll never know what these shy girls will do when they grow up, one day you might need them.

With love, not jealous at all


Blind love

Last time I saw my parents together was on my 19th birthday. They came over to London to visit me for a family day at work – a freshly refurbished pub with a whole brand new team, after some time of working there I learned to call them ‘monsters’ in my secret diaries.

After this day I never saw them the same way as before. My dad decided he raised his little girl so now it’s time for him to have his own life and leave my mum. As if he didn’t choose this life himself. A few months later I find out he’s already got a ‘girlfriend’, which I absolutely wanted to hate from the first day I met her, after a while though, when I managed to calm down and suppress my late teenage anger and frustration, I actually noticed she’s not that bad after all. Of course, there were loads of things that I would change in her, but she tries to be nice to me, I guess, and in some ways makes my dad happy. Ha! Well, he’s raising his little daughter, after all he got his freedom back.

Anyways, as I treated this as the worst life-image ever, I decided that, suddenly, as the most perfect couple in the world is not so perfect anymore, *ahem* love does not exist anymore! Therefore, at that point I probably subconsciously decided to sabotage my own relationship. God, how glad I am, I did it!  My not so perfect boyfriend decided to demonstrate everything my mum thought he was – that is; a sissy pants not manly enough to be able to take care of me (my mum always kept complaining that I was always taking care of him while he couldn’t do the simplest task), a cheat (he finally got enough courage to cheat on me without hiding it too much), irrational (after we argued for like two months I finally told him that I knew everything, his reaction was to throw me out of our shared house), and most of all childish (poor boy cried all the time that he deserved to get more out of life than anyone else). Oh crap I dated an idiot!

Do you remember when every little thing seemed about a thousand times amplified during the teenage years? When a little crush meant the end of the world?

That’s how I felt exactly… As if my life has ended and I’m going to be an old maiden with a zillion of cats! I’m so glad today that I got out of that relationship. Today, instead of a boy moaning that I didn’t cook anything the way his mummy did so he won’t eat it, I have the most handsome man I’ve ever dreamt of, who appreciates everything I do and loves my cooking!

So, I guess, it doesn’t matter how bad you think it is, start thinking positive and good things will come your way. At the end of the day you’ll never know what might come your way tomorrow.



English bastard weather

Hello Everyone!

I’m a Londoner so there’s nothing to say about the forces of nature in a big city like this, there’s hardly any nature at all. Ok… We’ve got Hyde Park, and loads of other little parks scattered around the city, giving each estate at least a place to walk your dog, or go for a run. There’s little to say, maybe one would remember the crowds, heat so bad it made hard to breathe in the underground stations, and traffic – massive traffic that could only give you a fever. That, I would certainly agree with.

It used to make me absolutely angry and annoyed with someone who was saying that in England it only rains and rains… I never saw these rainy months everyone’s been talking about! Ok, I agree that sometimes it rains for hours, or even days, but it wasn’t much different than any other place. Maybe a little bit more humidity out there in the air, maybe the summer isn’t as hot as I’d like it to be, but I always definitely like it when the winters aren’t really that cold. It always used to make me laugh when I noticed schools closing down or public transport shutting down for a day, because – beware! – There was a millimeter of snow on the ground. Joking aside, London is really the last place you would encounter any kind of natural phenomenon.

The only phenomenon I had a chance to be a part of was a beautiful sunny day,  24 degrees – hottest day of the year so far!’ Media exclaimed. Therefore, as I was expecting an amazing day I deliberately left my jacket behind. I soon learned not to trust anyone or anything, because the hottest day of the year, the stunning sunny day quickly changed into a scene from a bad horror movie pouring down rain from the black skies that firmed up so quickly I had no chance of escape. Soaked, washed out from make-up or any hair style I arrived at my interview on time, shame that the interviewer didn’t, ‘because he works from home when it rains like that’, good to know that I spent the last two days preparing myself for that interview just to say goodbye, or that I went through half of London in soaking wet clothes to get a cold, without a job.

Maybe one day I will get lucky enough to work from home when it’s raining outside, just because I don’t want to get wet!



In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forces of Nature.”

Hello world!

Hello everyone!

For some time now I have been contemplating on starting my own blog. To be honest, I have blogged before, but for some bizarre reason I always kept giving up a few posts in. So what makes this blogging experience different? First of all, this time I am going to blog about things that actually interest me. You can probably figure out what my blog is going to be about from the name of it: 20DreamGirl, I’m a twenty something year old girl, a dreaming girl, who will simply write about a life of a twenty something. Dreams, desires, failures…

I could go on and on… But you get the idea. Maybe, for a good start of our blogging experience, I should introduce myself. I’m 20DreamGirl, let’s say that’s my name 🙂 I live in London, one of the best cities to make your dreams come true; unfortunately, fairy tales, princes and princesses are long gone in a big book hidden away under a bed of a big girl. It’s a start though, where could you make your dream career come true, but one of the biggest cities?

I’m not an actual Londoner. I came here to study and make my biggest lifetime dream real, however, I’d say I’ve lost my perspective by now and stopped dreaming for a while, or at least going after it. It’s ironical like the cliché jokes about a man begging God for millions won in a lottery, at the end God gets impatient and asks the man to buy the ticket if he want to win! I’m a bit like this right now, I really want my dreams come true, but since finishing my university degree it seems like I have forgotten how to go about it, so I’ve done nothing. Hopefully blogging will get me back on track and soon I’ll take the whole world on!

As you already know I’m not a student anymore, not that long ago I finished my education (at least for now), and at the same time I decided I completely didn’t need my demeaning job I hated so much that I’ve put my life on the awful unemployed list. I’m lucky enough, because my amazing boyfriend, who recently was going through the same thing, doesn’t mind this that much. I already had a ban for applying for jobs that I actually don’t want to do – and wait for the golden opportunity, for something that I will enjoy doing. I thought I knew what it meant before, but with every week of sitting at home filling out applications I feel like I forgot what it was that I wanted to do so much, why I wanted to grow up quickly, so I don’t have to study anymore but have my amazing career.

Am I the only one or are there any other twenty something year olds who seem to know what they want, but really they are lost as much as I am?

Lots of love,