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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!

In this breathtaking place, one hardly knows what to admire first, moving from one wonder to another in awe. You can almost see the carriages, the stockings, the pomade—and just as the luxury nearly blinds you, a thought nestles in: What if these statues have witnessed more tears than laughter? What if the books are true, and beneath the profusion of beauty, happiness faded away under the brocade? If a woman’s loneliness could be sparked by a harsh word, an ill-fitting dress (does that sound trivial? It’s not), or a fleeting human mood—so easily crushed, right? No wonder they sometimes didn’t feel their own worth. And with every step I took here, the gravel ground beneath my feet seemed to grind between my teeth, reminding me that there is a kind of life where we are sometimes made aware that we are not good enough. Words can hurt as they pierce us, and no matter how many times we rethink the ‘beautiful everything else,’ if as a last attempt you cautiously, fearfully start building a delicate sandcastle, you won’t remember the joy of building it together, but the moment it was destroyed before it was truly finished. And if you’re foolish enough to daydream during the shared building, just give yourself as many slaps as you want. After all, a ruined castle can still bury failure beneath its rubble. Just keep looking at it until you finally believe that this is what it has become.

Yet this place could have been magic, another memory for old age, another protruding pillar to hold onto when we fall back from closeness. A memory that strengthens the foundation so this beautiful castle could never collapse, maybe just chip away here and there. And with memories like these, its wounds could have been patched. But now it has become a lesson, showing us through nature how fleeting humans are. How gullible, how fragile.