I recently spent the most magical day with my best friend, her family and some friends out hiking. Being able to do something like this on any given day reminded me of what a huge privilege a healthy body is.




In all those years ever since I was a little girl in ballet and also later in my early twenties when I literally ran my body into the ground, I had my fair share of injuries. My knees and hips would hurt on and off and sometimes keep me side lined for a bunch of days. I would finally develop a pretty severe so-called “runner’s knee” in both of my knees which would force me to stop running for a whole year.

I remember that at first this was a serious struggle as I came face to face with those very real fears of gaining weight as all of a sudden I couldn’t just try to run off the already very limited amount of calories I was consuming.

Addictions to certain substances or behaviours often times stem from a desire to control and here I was all of a sudden feeling like I wasn’t able to control things anymore. I lost one of the most important outlets and coping mechanisms that I had been practicing for so long. Having to suddenly face a problem and not being able to just out-run it like you’re used to, is hard.

After a few months of not running and only being able to stick to low impact exercises like some light bodyweight stuff, yoga and the bicycle, something shifted though. My body changed but very much to my own surprise I somehow got along with it.

To a big part I attribute this to the fact that this was also the time when I first started actively seeking images of “plus size” models (I am not a fan of this label but am going to use it here for lack of a better word).




When I was deeply caught in my eating disorder I would spend hours online searching for images of women who had the body I wanted. I mostly stuck to athletes as I was mesmerized with those very firm and androgynous looks. When I found something I deemed perfect, I would obsessively compare myself to it. I think I was searching for acceptance for my own body through proximity to those ideal representations. Today I am very aware that this isn’t the way it works, but back then I didn’t know any better.

To finally discover the beauty in a softer body with a round belly, voluptuous thighs and arms was truly a game changer in my perception of what I accepted for my own body.




My own experience is also the reason why I am a firm believer in the theory of visibility. To put it very simply: we only embrace what we see often. (If you’re curious to find out more about that topic, I recommend this book.)

When you think about it, it’s really not surprising that so many girls and women develop this huge dissatisfaction with their looks when for so long all they see in the media is this extremely narrow and distorted representation of what humans look like. No wonder that we believe that being fat is one of the worst things that can happen to us when for so long we’ve been conditioned to think that only a very specific body type is beautiful. It’s like the white elephant that I tell you to NOT think about.




Visibility shapes our perception. Making men and women of all different sizes, colours and abilities visible is the only way to bring our society to accept a broader spectrum of what we define as normal.


If you haven’t done so before I really urge you to check out these hashtags that celebrate all the different kinds of bodies and not just this one cookie cuter BS we’re dominantly being fed:



Happy scrolling everyone!




My love language and hairless cats

Sharing my thoughts here really is the best. While I am always scared shitless when I hit that “publish” button for fear of people’s judgement, I love it nonetheless and it fulfills me in a way that is hard to put into words.

Every single time I write a new post, I am super nervous. I frantically read – and then re-read – every sentence a thousand times and worry about spelling or grammar errors that will make me look stupid.

One thing that also never changes though is that when I finally hit the button and people take the time to read my words and then reach out to share their own views or experiences, the gratitude I feel is – hands down – one of the best feelings ever and makes all the fear pale in comparison.

The fact that my friends send me pics of them reading my blog or tell me which part they enjoyed the most, gives me all the feels in this world. I guess it’s safe to say that someone taking the time to read what I throw out here is the way to my heart. It’s my love language.

And it’s probably not surprising that this is also how I share my love. If you have a special place in my heart you are probably used to me sending you random texts and tagging you in posts that touch me in one way or another and make me think of you.

Sometimes probably not quite for your pleasure even. One of my best friends has to suffer through at least one naked cat pic a day and I know she HATES it but then again that’s kinda part of the whole deal. (At least for me. ;)) It’s this game we play. I know she despises hairless cats which I love by the way and I will seriously go out of my way to find shots that I know will make her shudder.


That’s what I’m talkin about. Go ahead and tell me that this isn’t the cutest thing you’ve seen for a long time!?



While I may sometimes have a hard time being physically available as I try to do my best to protect my introvert energy and easily feel overwhelmed by several dates in the course of a week, me sending you a text, a quote or tagging you under a great Instagram caption is my maybe pathetic but still loving way of saying that I care.





In the past several weeks I have become aware of a significant pattern showing up in different parts of my life. Starting from my closet, over life stuff and finally to relationships, I am all about decluttering and getting rid of any and everything I don’t need.

I am not sure if it is due to my recent birthday and all the thinking and stocktaking I did around that time or if it’s the end of the year slowly creeping up on us. All of a sudden I feel this urgent need to get rid of any unnecessary burden and make myself feel free and light.

It started with my closet. Mind you, I already have a pretty minimalistic lifestyle but still there were a few pieces here and there, that just didn’t do it for me anymore but somehow survived past clearings. So one Saturday I went through my whole closet and sorted out the items that didn’t fit my style anymore, were old and worn out or just didn’t bring me any pleasure. And man, when I finally packed a bunch of clothes into big bags and got them out of my home, the feeling of lightness and new-beginning was ridiculously invigorating. Whenever I now open my closet doors the reduced amount of clothing in neat order makes my virgo heart sing.

This feeling of lightness got me thinking about what else I would like to get rid off and soon some loose ends in my academic career came to my mind. There is especially one big but necessary decision I’ve been putting off for years. Literally years that I’ve been dragging some projects along, always with the hope of one day finishing them. What I didn’t think about though during all that time was whether I truly wanted to proceed with those projects.

As I was quietly pondering this huge question in the following weeks, I one day stumbled upon an article centering on this thought: what would you do if you knew that you only had one year of your life left? What changes and most of all where would you make them?

This really got me thinking and hit a nerve as I lost a dear friend a bit more than a year ago and ever since her life has been taken way to early, I have been more aware of the fragility of our stay here.

And to be honest one of the first things that came to my mind were those academic projects that had been unfinished for so long. The more I thought about them, the more I realised that if I had been more courageous in the past I would have abandoned those plans already a long time ago. The only thing standing between the necessary decision and my clinging to those old dreams was my ego. It was tricking me into believing that giving up was making me a failure and my inability visible to everyone around. And you guys, I know how irrational this thought is but still I just wasn’t able to shake off that fear.

Lastly I have come to understand that there is no need to cling to illusions around relationships. No matter if it’s friendships or family ties.

It’s time to cut the old ends and make space for new, juicy beginnings. I believe that as long as physical and/or mental space is being taken up by useless things and thoughts, you’re not able to make enough room for new goodness. I really urge you too to take inventory of all your living space, inside and out and get rid of what is weighing you down. I promise, it really is cathartic and I am super stoked to see what fate puts into the newly won spaces.

Happy decluttering everyone!


And no, this pic doesn’t really have anything to do with this post besides the fact that it makes me feel zen as fuck.



Confession time

Remember my blogpost about dating where I described the scenario with the dude talking about nothing but himself? In my post I was very adamant to let you know what I thought to be the right thing to do in this specific situation. (In case you forgot: just run.)

Well, I must confess. I was in a similar situation a while ago and I am mortified and equally ashamed to admit that I didn’t follow my own advice.




Yes, shame on me. Guilty as charged. I didn’t pack up my belongings and just got the hell out of there. No. I stayed. For THREE painful hours which really felt like three full hours.  We’re talking about a dentist-three-hours-feel.

To make it worse, during all that time we had an awkward “conversation” which was in fact a monologue. I am not exaggerating if I tell you that in all those 180 minutes he asked four questions. And we’re not talking about four really good, deep ones. Mostly small-talk worthy material you’d use to fill the gaps.

However, what was even worse was that while I was answering, I was aware of him not even paying attention. It was obvious that all he was waiting for was his next chance to speak. My answers seemed necessary nuisances he had to endure in order to get back to the part that really mattered: him.

Looking back now, just thinking about this date makes me cringe, ready to crawl into my invisible turtle shell.




Besides the fact that I lost valuable hours of my life, I am most of all annoyed at my own self. I would have thought that I have reached a point where whenever a date or generally a human being treats me like this, I would have the courage to leave.

Seeing how I handled this case got me thinking about what other shitty behaviour I am willing to put up with.

Know how sometimes a good while after a break up, when you’re ready to look at the whole mess and understand what went wrong, you end up with a check list of future no-gos and must-haves.

While I think that this is a valid approach in order to learn something from the pain and to hopefully protect yourself from future drama, I wonder how strong those ideas really stand once you get all heart eyes emoji over someone new.

In my case, I wasn’t even into the guy and looking back now the only reason I can come up with for why I didn’t leave is that I didn’t want to rock the boat. I didn’t want to “causa a scene”. Sadly though, I was willing to feel uncomfortable in order for him to be fine.

Light-bulb moment.

… I was willing to feel uncomfortable in order for him to be fine. 

I guess I didn’t want to be perceived as bitchy, complicated or high-maintenance. And I do realize just writing these words how absolutely foolish this sounds. What if some random dude even walked away thinking that I was any of those?

I don’t want to fall into the stereotype-trap but I do believe that this is more of a female issue. It is ingrained in so many of us that we should be anything but complicated. Anything but challenging.

While we can pin all the inspirational #bossbabe quotes out there, this ain’t shit as long as we don’t really have the courage to rock the boat if necessary. Cause let’s be honest, if he goes overboard at the first slightly rougher sea, boy ain’t built for this boat anyway, right!?




Cheers and Hugs,



Finally accepting what is…

I believe that in one form or another everyone of us has at least one relationship in their life where we wish things were differently.

Maybe you constantly fight with your mother over the same old stories. Maybe it’s one of your friends who does stuff that you disapprove but you just can’t let go of the friendship.

I have one of those challenging relationships in my family life. Without going into too much detail, I want to share some thoughts on this.

I used to fight this relationship with all my heart. As a teenager the interactions were filled with anger and pure hatred and later turned into indifference. And while physical distance to this person helped with not getting outraged at every.single.one of their actions, I still felt some amount of guilt and reluctance.

Every now and then I would catch myself saying to friends: “I wish it were all different. I wish this person would be, think and act differently.” And while I would imagine what a better version of them would be like, I would get a really icky sensation in the pit of my stomach that can be best described as a mix of pain, remorse and sadness.




What I have come to understand now though is that there is no sense in thinking like this because I am not able to change this person. I tried for the past 15 years, but I am just starting to really understand that I won’t succeed. And while this thought used to leave me feeling defeated and like a failure, it’s time to accept it for what it is. There is this polish saying: “Not my monkeys, not my circus” and although it might be tempting to make it my circus, I won’t.

And this doesn’t say anything about me. It’s not my fault.

It’s not that I am bad or unworthy and that this is the reason why I am being handed this set of cards. Call it wishful thinking, but I want to believe that there is a reason behind all of it.

So what to do? Through trial and error I have figured out for myself that there is a certain amount of that person in my life that I can tolerate without it negatively impacting my mental health. And right now that’s not much, to be honest.

Maybe this will change at some point. I don’t know. I don’t want to say that I hope for anything though because as soon as we throw hope into the mix, it gets sticky. I feel like hope opens a door that I’d rather see closed for now. It would be awesome if things got better at some point but if they don’t, I know I will be fine.

I am not fighting anymore. Neither in the sense that I try to change that person, nor in the sense that I torment myself with those ideals of how it should be.

I guess this is my lenghty way of saying that I finally accept the situation as it is. Unfiltered and flawed.





When you’re having one of ‘those days’…

  1. Take a luxurious bath. Bath bomb included.
  2. Slowly slather your whole body in body butter, oil or lotion
  3. Thank your miraculous body for all it’s doing every single day and make a conscious effort to appreciate the body parts that you stuggle with most
  4. Put on your favorite power-outfit
  5. Put on the new outfit that you’ve been saving for a special occasion. Make today the special occasion.
  6. Apply perfume
  7. Watch a feel good movie or documentary. My favorite: The Netflix documentary about Iris Apfel
  8. Listen to some music
  9. Pet a puppy
  10. Search for cute animal pics on the internet
  11. Search for funny animal videos on the internet
  12. Call or text a friend
  13. Don’t talk to your most pessimistic family member. Safe that special treat for another day.
  14. Do something nice for someone else
  15. Treat yourself to a manicure or pedicure
  16. Get a massage
  17. Read or watch something inspiring
  18. Watch some stand-up comedy
  19. Clean your home
  20. Buy flowers
  21. Light a candle
  22. Take off your bra
  23. Do some yoga
  24. Breathe deeply for two minutes
  25. Open all windows
  26. Clean out your closet
  27. Declutter your home. Basement included.
  28. Journal
  29. Listen to a podcast
  30. Come up with a gratitude list
  31. Start a new book
  32. Pray to whatever higher power you believe in
  33. Spend time in nature
  34. Plan your next tattoo
  35. Drink a cup of tea
  36. Eat some chocolate
  37. Go to bed extra early
  38. Pinterest. Nuff said.
  39. Daydream
  40. Write down a list of three things that you like about yourself




So what went wrong?

To elaborate a bit on the topic of my latest blogpost I want to talk about some of the reasons why I fell off the blogging-bandwagon.


First and foremost life happened and I lacked inspiration. I suddenly had no clue what to write about and also no real desire to sit down and get in touch with what might feel right and important at that moment.

Pair a general feeling of blah-ness with high expectations and I stopped writing anything in fear of it not being what I wanted it to be and it not being authentic enough. As I briefly mentioned before, my perfectionistic views got the best of me. Why even bother doing anything at all when I wasn’t expecting the final product to be of value?

What also didn’t help was that I was being too strict with myself about how often I would blog (I was dead set on posting something every single Monday) and how long each post had to be.

Besides those mundane reasons I am also guilty of fearing judgment. Writing anything publicly is equally exhilarating and terrifying. Especially when opening up about some very personal topics, the thought of what anyone reading might think of it and to take it even further, might think of me as a person has definitely crossed my mind.


With all that being said, what is rather eye-opening is that although no one expected anything from me (I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not like people were impatiently waiting for my updates) I still managed to put all this pressure on myself.

Thinking about it now, I am wondering if I do this way more often than I am aware of.

Or let’s phrase this differently as I know that I do so for sure, but where exactly, in which situations do I make a fuss over something that isn’t as huge as I make it up in my mind? Where else do I blow things out of proportion?


While part of me is innerly screaming that I don’t have an answer to this question yet I am going to leave on this note. Because although I might feel like I owe you a mind-blowing, awe inspiring finish admitting that I don’t have the solution is the most honest answer. While it may seem tempting to always try to unveil a perfectly manicured final version I want to believe that there is also – or maybe even more so? – beauty in embracing the messy drafts from along the way.