Who is right?

Who is right?

​"I hate this diary! It feels so childish. I am 15 now and I feel like shit. School sucks and at home, we have no money. It is not like we are pathetic or something, but we are not doing any fun stuff anymore. I even have to try and prevent mum or dad needing to take me to the cinema, for the gasoline is too expensive. Better get a lift with others. The paper is gone, magazines are gone, and we probably cannot afford to go on a holiday. I just need to get out of this goddamn city, with its goddamn school and its goddamn children. I want OUT!"

When I was clearing out my apartment in The Netherlands days before starting my nomadic adventure in 2015, I stumbled upon a stack of old diaries. One of them read the paragraph above and it felt timely to read this paragraph on the cusp of leaving my life as I knew it behind in search for more freedom and adventure. This young woman had felt so trapped. Trapped in her family, the school system, the city. I could feel her anger oozing from the pages. My anger. After that outburst I had stopped writing, afraid as I was of the power behind my own words. Reading them 15 years later made me wonder: Had I not gone on to feel trapped in my body and job, too? Trapped in the money-driven economy and a mortgage that forced me to sell my house? Trapped in the confines and restrictions of a tax system that did not make sense to me? An educational system that felt too narrow minded? A country that felt too flat?

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