Bon Bini

Welcome

Hey there!

I’m Jammita!

Welcome! You managed to land on this page. So, you are either really bored or just curious, either way, I’m glad you’re here.

 

 

 

These are the latest things I’ve published

Aruba Haciendo Chistenan di Rape?

Aruba Haciendo Chistenan di Rape?

TW/ abuso/ agresion sexual Siman pasa tabata yena cu noticianan impactante. Lamentablemente mayoria di nan tabata negativo, por lo menos esunnan cu mi a wak anto....

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‘Stiltes laten vallen’

‘Stiltes laten vallen’

Durante mi estudio di Pedagogia na Rotterdam, Hulanda, mi a haya algun modulo di comunicacion. Mi temporada faborito Alrededor di april, ora cu ya caba e flornan ta cuminsa...

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Indecent proposal?

In the last few weeks, I've been watching movies from the late 80s to the early 90s (not that that's uncommon of me). I always like to see the...

My Childhood Room Isn’t Green Anymore

In case you didn't know, the color green is, to me, the most beautiful color in the world. There isn't a shade of green that I don't like (yes, I...

Stop di Haci Cos di Mucha Chikito!

Dia 20 di november tabata dia Internacional di Derecho di Mucha. Manera tur aña nos ta mira yen di adultonan y instancianan ta felicita nos muchanan...

Pickup Blanco Cu Trapi Patras

Desde cu mi tabata un mucha Mi a mira mi tata lucha. Tur soda, cansa y sushi. "Caramba!", e homber ey tin curashi. Den su uniform blauw e ta subi...

20 Years of Under My Skin

Imagine you just turned 13. The last school bell just rang. You run to your mother's work to tell her you will finally do it for the first time....

A bit more about me…

 

My dad used to tell me stories almost every night when I was a little girl. Out of nowhere, he would come up with these amazing, elaborate stories, mostly fiction. Sometimes I would write a few of them in this black-blue colored notebook that my mom gave to me. I enjoyed writing. Sometimes I even wrote a few stories of my own. I don’t know where that notebook is anymore. And I don’t remember any of the stories that my father used to tell me, but I remember how much they inspired me, encouraged me, and especially how they made me feel. That same feeling I wanted to transfer to other people too. Coming from a small Caribbean island, can make you doubt yourself sometimes. I often thought that my dreams were too big. My husband, who can self-teach himself about anything, thinks that it’s nonsense to think like that. My father may have inspired me, but my husband was the first person to believe in me. Now at age 31, I finally feel empowered, like my eight-year-old self once was. I spend too much time worrying, obeying, and conforming, but I am done with that. Now the sun will shine brightly on me (even though I don’t actually like the sun). So I hope you will stick around, learn more about me and grow (together).