Browsing category: Identity

  • 27 september 2024

    Ambar Adela: The power of the heart

    IT’S A WARM DAY IN AUGUST. LUNA AND I ARE WALKING THROUGH THE MAZE OF THE SANTO DOMINGO ARTISAN MARKET. A BIT DIZZY FROM THE HEAT AND THE COLORS (AND ME FROM ANEMIA), WE STOP TO LOOK AT SOME QUARTZ BRACELETS AT ONE OF THE COLOR-PACKED STALLS. THE BRACELET I WANT TO BUY FOR LUNA IS A BIT TOO BIG. “IF SHE LIKES IT, I CAN ADJUST IT TO HER SIZE,” SAYS A SOFT VOICE. FIVE SECONDS LATER, I’M STANDING IN FRONT OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN WITH INDIGENOUS FEATURES, HER FACE PERFECTLY MADE UP AND A BIG SMILE WITH DIMPLES. HER NAME IS ADELA, THE OWNER OF THE STALL, WITH HER OWN JEWELRY BRAND, “ÁMBAR ADELA.” HER VOICE IS OFTEN INTERRUPTED BY A CONTAGIOUS LAUGH. FOR EXAMPLE, WHEN SHE SEES MY SURPRISE AS SHE EXPLAINS THAT SHE ALSO DESIGNS THE EMBROIDERED CLOTHING SHE SELLS. AT THAT MOMENT, I TAKE A CLOSER LOOK AT THE MERCHANDISE AROUND ME: EMBROIDERED CLOTHING, SILVER JEWELRY, AND SEMI-PRECIOUS STONES, ALONG WITH AMBER PIECES. “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! HOW DO YOU FIND THE TIME?” I ASK, AMAZED. – SHE LAUGHS AGAIN. – “WHY WOULDN’T YOU BELIEVE ME? WHEN YOU DO THINGS WITH LOVE, IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW SMALL THEY ARE. THEY ALWAYS TURN OUT WELL. STEP BY STEP.” AND THAT’S HOW WE BEGIN A CONVERSATION THAT FILLS ME WITH ADMIRATION.

    Adela’s story

    Adela comes from the Tzotzil community in a nearby village. Her mother taught her to embroider when she was a child. She married very young and had three daughters, who are now young adults. When she tells me her age (she’s only six years younger than me, though she looks at least ten years younger), I almost fall over.

    “What?! Forty-seven years old?! I don’t believe it,” I exclaim.

    Her laughter jingles again.
    “You don’t believe anything I say!” But when your spirit is well, and you do things with love, your body reflects that.”

    She tells me that she divorced her daughters’ father long ago. It must have been a difficult time, but I see no trace of bitterness or resentment on her face. Instead, there’s a serene joy.

    “Look at me. I live better this way. Things have gone well for me,” she says, the dimples in her smile reappearing. “I got divorced because I couldn’t rely on him anyway. Once I became independent, I had to decide how to move forward and support my daughters and myself.”

    “When your spirit is well, and you do things with love, your body reflects that”

    Adela Gómez

    From embroidery to beads

    That’s when I remembered my mother’s embroidery. I started by embroidering blouses to sell at the market, with things I love: flowers, fruits, and birds. My style of embroidery sold well. So, I began to embroider other garments, not just traditional ones, but also jeans, jackets, blazers—everything. One thing worth the mention: I only made things I enjoyed creating.

    I’ve always liked accessories, so when I could save a bit of money, I bought some beads and stones and started making small bracelets, earrings, little things. Those sold well, too. Over the years, my stall grew, and I was able to get a small shop here in Santo Domingo. My daughters also grew up; they had their own responsibilities by then. But between them, they helped me formalize my designs into a brand, “Ámbar Adela.” They created the labels for several lines, and well… here we are,” she finishes with a smile.

    Silver and amber
    Amber and Jade
    Embroidery and amber

    Life Force

    I listen in admiration, especially because I know firsthand how hard it is to build a jewelry brand—it’s no easy task. I tell her that years ago, I had my own brand, “Luna de Plata,” and that I gave it up when it was almost fully formed.

    “Why?” she asks.

    With some embarrassment, I admit,
    “Lack of experience, but mostly fear. Fear of failing.”

    Seeing Adela standing there so calm and full of confidence, surrounded by her creations, I rush to tell her that only now, years later, I understand that I can do whatever I set my mind to. That only now do I feel the confidence to face my fears head-on. I tell her I’m surviving cancer and that I’m filled with plans that feel very real to me: this trip through Mexico, my therapy practice, my communication work to support other cancer patients, and the psychology studies I will begin this year.

    She says, “Everything will work out for you, I know it. The things done with love, with motivation, step by step, always turn out well. Because that’s how God works.”

    And the way she says it, I feel a deep certainty in every word. My body vibrates with serene clarity, and in that moment, I understand that she is driven by the Life Force.


    Adela and her unbreakable spirit

    Adela shows that Life Force is not just about carrying on when everything is against you. It’s about finding joy in the small things, feeling love in everything you do. It’s knowing that no matter what happens, you always have the strength within you to start again.

    Her story is not just one of courage but a tribute to the strength of the heart. And so, she continues, with a smile and unstoppable energy, her hands never ceasing to create, her heart always open to her family and her customers. She is living proof of the power of the heart, of love for family, and of the unbreakable spirit of a woman determined to love life no matter what.

    How many times have you had to start again? Which are the little things that bring you joy?
    Share your thoughts in the comments.

    Do you not recognize this Life Force in your own story, or do you feel like you have lost yours?

    Let me know, I am a message away

    Life Force Stories | Part 2

    Credits: Pictures from Adela Gómez Facebook page | Picture ‘Santo Domingo Market’ generated with AI, based on my own original photo’s.

  • 1 juni 2024

    Is cancer making me antisocial?!

    A FEW DAYS BEFORE MY OPERATION, I CALL SOME FRIENDS WHO WANT TO SEE ME BEFORE THE PROCEDURE. PERFECT, I WANTED TO HAVE A FEW DRINKS WITH MY HUSBAND ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON ANYWAY, SO THEY CAN JOIN US. BUT THE TIME DOESN’T SUIT MY FRIEND AMALIA, SO SHE WILL COME ANOTHER TIME. I FEEL A BIT ANNOYED… BUT ALSO RELIEVED. AND I RECOGNISE THAT THIS HAPPENS TO ME MORE OFTEN IN MY SOCIAL CONTACTS SINCE I GOT CANCER. WHY? AM I BECOMING UNAPPROACHABLE? | ARTICLE ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR THE DUTCH PLATFORM “SHIT OR SHINE”

    Unapproachable, or not?

    It’s three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. I just got a call from the hospital to inform me that my operation is scheduled for next Monday morning. Finally! I have been waiting for this. I’m not nervous, but I do want to reserve an afternoon to spend with my husband before the rollercoaster begins. A Friday afternoon with snacks and wine. My friends Sarah and Amalia want to join, so they said. But Amalia has an appointment with her personal trainer that she can’t re-schedule or skip. She asks if she can come later in the evening. For me, that would be a bit late, and I tell her so. Then she wants to come over the weekend, but I want to reserve those days for my family. I feel a hint of irritation. So, feeling somewhat apologetic and somewhat irritated, I tell her: “Don’t feel obligated, there will be another time.” In part, I also feel relieved. I notice that I feel more and more distanced from her. Why is that?

    Since I got cancer, I more frequently recognise these feelings in my social interactions. Not only with friends but also with casual acquaintances. For example, someone sent me a message a week after my first chemotherapy, inviting me to go for a walk. This is someone from town who normally just waves at me when we bump into each other. I didn’t even know this person had my phone number; let alone how they got it. In this case too, I felt uncomfortable and somewhat apologetic, but honestly, I had no desire to go at all.

    In moments like these, I think: “Is cancer making me unapproachable?” Why?

    But it’s not always like this. Take this example: I went to the hospital for a CT scan, a few weeks after my mastectomy. The radiologist says to me: “Take off your bra.” I smile and look at her, and I say: “I’m not wearing a bra.” We look into each other’s eyes, and I continue: “I don’t have breasts.” I see the shock in her eyes as she realises, but we hold each other’s gaze and… burst out laughing. Then she asks me a few questions: she wants to know how I’m doing and how I find the whole process. The CT scan proceeds, and the interaction lasts no more than 10 minutes from start to finish, but I leave with a huge smile.

    So, what’s going on? Why do I let some people get closer and not others?

    There is always a good intention behind it

    Let’s start with these principles: people act with good intentions. And I know it’s difficult for those around me to know what’s right. They are walking on eggshells.

    So, if I know this, why do I still find ‘noise’ in some of my interactions? Have I always been like this? … There was a time of parties, reunions until the early hours, dancing until our feet hurt. That’s true. What is also true is that I have always preferred deep bonds, even if that means fewer friendships. At the same time, I’ve always enjoyed striking up a conversation with a stranger on the street, that’s also true. But not with everyone.

    Dancing till the feet hurt

    Connections in ‘high contrast’

    This is because I have always had the need to truly connect with the people around me. That’s how I engage, and I kind of expect the same coming from my contacts. Since I got cancer, it seems like I see everything through a high-contrast filter. Specifically: I have become more sensitive to the absence of connection. At the same time, I need this true connection even more. Authenticity has become more important to me.

    This applies to my friendships as well as to contact with acquaintances, and also with people on the street. The most important thing is that it feels authentic, sincere. Not all friends want to drop or change their things to accommodate my schedule. And really that’s fine, as long as the contact is sincere and not pretentious. Personally, I prefer a greeting with a broad smile from someone who sees me passing by on the street, rather than forcibly trying to ‘do something big and noble’, which our relationship was never based on. It doesn’t fit, it feels forced and uncomfortable. Despite the undoubtedly good intention. It seems less authentic to me.

    What to do? Some tips

    So, for me, less is more. I have become a tad more selective. Is this the perfect solution? No, there is a clear downside: this could lead me to isolation, of course. Even so, it is a conscious choice. I feel this is best for me. Does this apply to all people with cancer? Of course not, everyone has their own way and their own needs regarding their social contacts. And what works for me may not work for someone else. However, there are some tips I’d like to give:

    For the environment, those walking on eggshells

    1. Ask the person (find a suitable time and manner) what they need and what’s comfortable. Do it sincerely; they can feel that and is more likely to get you an equally sincere response and less awkwardness.
    2. Listen. Really listen, respect wishes and boundaries. It’s not about satisfying your own need to ‘do good’, but about what the person needs, can, and wants to receive from you.
    3. Be consistent. If you want to stay close to the person, stay close. If, on the contrary, your priorities honestly don’t allow you to maintain contact, that’s also fine, but don’t expect or force closeness.
    4. Offer practical help, such as cooking or doing some groceries. Here too applies, what is appropriate and sincere. For example, if the person is a mum of another child at school, offer to pick up the children after school.

    For those going through something similar to my experience

    1. Keep in mind that people act with good intentions. They do so with goodwill, and it’s very difficult for them to estimate what’s right for you.
    2. Be honest, especially with yourself. Answer sincerely and be clear about your needs, wishes, and boundaries.
    3. Be mild. With yourself and with others, perfection doesn’t exist.

    Ultimately, it’s about supporting each other in ways that really help. And that can be achieved by truly connecting with each other. Acknowledging the space availabe, without forcing things. A small and sincere gesture can be the seed of a great friendship.