Always Painting Something
I am not a writer. You soon will learn that. However when Kiya asked me to send my story I was curious, excited, confused and interested.
To be honest I do not even know where to begin, especially since this section is called "short story" and there is so much story to tell.
Let's start with the basics.
I was born and raised in Munich, Germany to parents from Serbia.
My father died in a car accident when I was 3 and it left my disabled mother a single parent in a country where she was an immigrant. We did ok.
As a child I did not notice her struggle. She was a strict parent and I was terrified of her. Many spankings and punishments later we did ok.
I did not understand then that it all came from love and a place of being scared and exhausted. She eventually remarried (I was about 10 or 11), a man who was a better step dad to me than some of my friends' biological fathers were to them.
Sadly, he cheated on her with a woman who was 7 years older than me and they divorced.
There is a whole other chapter to tell here but lets just say that he tried to stay in touch and I shut it down.
After all, how could I do that to my mother whom he betrayed so terribly.
I have realized now that I have always been able to leave people behind. People who disappoint. I am ok with that.
Before this cheating and divorce happened (I was about 18), I went to Canada as a foreign student.
First it was a 3 month stay after which the host family invited me to come back. I went back to Germany and finished school and returned (after much begging) to Elk Point, AB, to do the Grade 12 year and graduate from High School in Canada as well.
It was during that time that I met and fell in love with my now husband. This was 1998 (gulp).
To keep this story short, I went back to Germany after that year and we dated long-distance until getting married in 2004. My mother wouldn't allow me to move to Canada right out of High School so she made me finish University and get a degree, all in the hopes I would forget about this boy in Canada and fall in love closer to home. Despite the lack of social media and affordable long-distance calling we made it to 2004. We would see each other every 4-6 months, often joking that we owned part of AirCanada, or that we had a hand in keeping them going at least. I moved here, got a job that I was excellent at and hated at the same time.
After our first child was born in 2009 I knew I needed to do something different. I had always been a hustler and it didn't really matter what job I was doing, I was always doing it 150%.
I decided to open up a Beauty Boutique. A place you could get high-end cosmetic products.
I wanted to be my own boss and in charge of my own schedule before this "work-from-home" mentality became popular and accepted. I knew I would have to add services in order to attract a clientele so I added hair and esthetic services to my business.
By the time I decided to sell 6 years later I had 8 staff and a solid clientele base.
By that time I had given birth two our second son and realized that what I had could not be all that I am capable of.
I was still lacking that passion in what I was doing. I am sure you could ask anybody who knew me then and they would tell you that I would constantly be painting a wall or piece of furniture.
I have always loved art, design and was never afraid to diy anything.
I have shingled my own garage roof and layed my own hardwood flooring.
There was nothing I thought I could not do.
Then I came across this advertisement for this University in Ontario which was accredited to give you a Bachelor Degree in Interior Design via an online course. This was it. I could do it on my own time (somewhat) and still run my business and be a mother and wife.
Again, there are many chapters within this story which would be too long to express here but lets just say 6 years later I am 2 semesters away from that degree, I have started my own Interior Design company while still hustling and doing sugaring from home in order to help pay for those bills.
I am still constantly painting a wall and teaching my kids that anything is possible.
Go after those dreams.
Here I am, an immigrant just like my mother was only in a different country...It doesn't matter if you’re 20 or 40.
