My Award of Awareness

The Award I did not win @ Glamour Woman of the Year 2014, Amstel Hotel, Amsterdam

This is the speech I did not write for the Glamour Woman of the Year Party 2014, last weeks Monday night, at the famous Amstel Hotel in Amsterdam.

A writer that didn't write a speech, isn't that ironic? Well, I did not write this speech, because I did not win this award. A Generation Glamour Award in the category Creative. First of all, I am not a Sanne or Hannah, at this point much more famous females, actrices with much more fans. I am far behind Rens, who already sold around a stunning 100.000 books. (I only sold around 101 poetry novels by now.) And I was not able at all to collect online votes. I was offline for a month in Asia, mostly in Bhutan, a Buddhistic remote kingdom, in the middle of the Himalayas. Here I got my own Award.

On this serpentine mountain road, I saw this woman. A woman of our generation. A woman of Indian origin, who had travelled to this foreign country, to hash asphalt roads for a living, with a pickaxe... - and with her baby on her back.

While she hitted the ground, it hitted me.

I can actually be a writer for a living. I have the privilige to know my creative calling. I am just to stupid cowardish to really live it, most of the time. Afraid of what people, of what you might think of what I will manifest.

And here, at this moment, I got my Award. My Award of Awareness.

This Awar(d)eness, that -even if I wouldn't do it for me-, from now on, I will pursue my creative calling for all the women of our generation, wherever in the world, who don't have the opportunities we have.

We, Dutch women, are free women. We are born in a free land. We, female writers, are free to write whatever wants to be written. We have all the opportunities and possibilities to become who we are.

We only have to get out of our own way.

Put on our high heels and step into the (spot)light of our own being.

Cause we are: #generationglamour.


That small space after the comma and before the second B. It looks like an inoffensive small step, but if you get closer, it actually is a huge ravine. It took me months, many excuses and several panic attacks, to get up to speed, take a run-up over the bulging of the N, come to the edge, jump on the comma to use it as a trampoline, be brave enough to let go and fly over. At the end, today I finally begun (with version 2 of the manuscript of my book.) Thanks to the encouragement of School of Life and my writing coach Sidney Vollmer.

What are you beginning today?