Your dress and my shoes

About Us

Welcome to our little virtual corner! I’m a single mother raising my wonderful son, Ruben, who has grown into a remarkable teenager. For years, I was the sole breadwinner as a Krav Maga instructor, balancing the challenges of parenthood and work on my own.

When Ruben started kindergarten, I embarked on a new journey by studying healthcare management at Semmelweis University, specializing in health tourism management. After graduating, I began working in my field and experienced firsthand the tragic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic while serving as a healthcare manager in a state hospital.

As the pandemic subsided, I transitioned into private healthcare, where I currently work as a practice manager. Meanwhile, our family moved from a small town to Vác, a charming historic Danube riverside city near Budapest.

Here, we embrace the everyday moments and joys of life together. If you want to hear more stories about us, you’re warmly invited to visit the original Daysonpaper blog at S&Ru’s Diary on daysonpaper.blog.hu.

So I decided to try living for a year on an international stage and see if there are other mothers in similar shoes for whom this diary could be a support on the harder days—just as it has been a support for me when I was able to look beyond the difficulties and sincerely believe in my own strength.

Thank you for stopping by!

Someone put on your dress. Walked into my life wearing it and pretended to be you. They smiled at me, encouraged me, protected me, sometimes hurt me—but I believed it was you. So I thought, “Well, this is just how it goes sometimes,” and I spent a lot of time wondering why I’m not always good enough. And then summers came, candlelit holidays, new summers, birthdays, tears, Christmases, emptiness—and I kept thinking and thinking. But eventually, it stopped feeling good because I started to not love myself, and then it occurred to me that you surely wouldn’t want me to feel this way. Something wasn’t right.

But it wasn’t the shouting or the muffled thud of the wall that woke me up, nor the constant noise that always accompanied us. I know it was that momentary silence that interrupted your sentence on the other end of the line, after which no new sound ever came—and I never longed for it again. That silence ran down my spine and I lost my sense of feeling. Yet, in that silence, somewhere beneath the roaring pulse of quiet, I heard that silent impression laughing at me with relief—that finally, finally, I see the whole picture. That dress was nothing more than a dress, worn by someone who wasn’t the person they should have been.

So I won’t say I’m angry with you, but it doesn’t always feel good to endure so much until you finally stretch, dress, and walk toward me. I imagine you’ll smile like someone satisfied, and when I look at you—at you looking out from inside—I will recognize you from within.

Or maybe right now, your thoughts are like mine, wondering if someone stole my shoes to play with you the way they played with me? And now you find it strange that I let this happen to you…? Please don’t be angry if that’s the case. When I finally put on the right shoes and you the right dress, and we stand face to face, I’ll explain that I had no idea you were searching for me all this time. Maybe we’ll laugh about it, or maybe we’ll throw everything at each other to get all the bad out and finally dig out the good underneath.

After all, stranger things have happened, haven’t they…?

Dated: Oct 7, 2023