#55to55, day 3
Contrary to what this picture might suggest, I actually learn to ride a bike when I was much older. At my big age of 18.
Here, I was probably six, with my sister-cousin Nadine helping me find balance. By this time, I was living full-time with my aunt. This bike was a Sinterklaas gift, likely a joint present from my four parents. But back then, I was too scared to learn—letting go wasn’t something I was ready for.
Fast forward to 1988: I was a student in Zwolle, a city I chose because Anthony Nadine’s big brother (and mine too) lived there. It was Anthony and my then-boyfriend, Ruly, who finally taught me how to ride. Let’s just say I spent a lot of time crashing into bushes before I figured it out.
As for Nadine, we drifted apart after I moved to Holland. But my best memories of her are moments like this one—sunny days, side by side, figuring life out together. She’s sadly no longer with us, but she’ll always be a part of me.
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