January 18th, 2010


giddy-up, I said

to the little pink rocking horse I never had in my childhood...

When I was a little girl of about 8, I started to develop a strange obsession with horses and ponies. Possibly because of the books I was starting to read, like The Black Stallion by Walter Farley, Black Beauty by Anna Sewell and Circus Days Again by Enid Blyton. As a result, my first ambition was to be a jockey and I wanted to win the Kentucky Derby. Mother thought I was insane.

Through my childhood, I often thought I was born in the wrong country. I often felt out of place, in school or at home. Don't get me wrong, I love my family very much. But I frequently felt I belonged elsewhere. And I was often drawn to the scenes that come alive from the pages of books I held in my hands.

Sometimes I still wonder if there is an alternate universe somewhere out there, where there is another me, who lives in the countryside and rides her black mare in the woods everyday, with sun-kissed streaks in her hair and the cool breeze on her skin...

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