ABOUT ME STORIES.

10 Things You Don’t Know About Me

Or do you?

I’ve written several about me stories in my life. The first ones in school. The last one, a couple of weeks ago. There are many differences. From a professional CV to casual diary-style biographies.

Some people hate talking about themselves. Some simply can’t. Some love to open up to the world and share as much as possible of their lives. Some can’t stop talking about themselves.

A biography, or as it is often called on this platform, an “about me” story is nothing new to me. I’ve written several ones before and share daily stories about my life as a nomad and adrenaline enthusiast.

But this one has started on a different note. As someone who writes about everything I do on a day-to-day basis, it was more challenging to find things my readers do not know yet.

But here is my list:

My parents were once refugees.

They fled from socialism in Romania. Coming to Germany in 1988, my dad had to work hard to raise a family in a foreign country. My mom’s degree wasn’t accepted by the Germans, which is why she only worked as a kindergarten teacher (having a degree to teach at universities) while raising two children.

German is not my mother tongue. Neither is English.

English is the fourth language I learned and possibly today the one I am most fluent in.

But I also do speak a language that is dying. Barely anyone in my age can even understand it.

“Transylvanian Saxon” is my mother tongue (more about that in my next point). Not many people do speak this language anymore, especially not my age. None of my cousins were taught to speak it. Only me and my sister.

While I used to be ashamed of it when I was younger because nobody else but “older people” spoke it in my surrounding, I learned to be proud of my heritage now.

German, I only started speaking and was exposed to once I came into kindergarten at the age of three. So, that is why German is not my mother tongue. It is close to it because I speak the language from a young age. But it is not my first language.

I selected French in school as my first foreign language in grade 5 and only in grade 6, I got English as a subject in school.

Later in my teens, I once took an Italian course because of the summer vacations we regularly spent in Italy and my love for the language. Unfortunately, I never stuck with it and realized I can’t speak the language anywhere else in the world except for Italy itself.

Living for years in Namibia, I got more than just exposed to the language of Afrikaans. Spoken only in southern Africa, mainly in South Africa and Namibia, this language is very close to Flemish and Dutch. I can understand and speak it if I need to. Fluently after a glass of wine or two.

But after traveling the globe for years and working in English-speaking countries, my skills shifted. French got pushed back in the storage room, German was only used to write my blog posts, and English was the language I used and improved daily.

Today, I can barely form a sentence talking to my mom in my mother tongue without throwing in a word or even two in English. Even with the German language, I struggle.

My mind has shifted. I am thinking in English.

At one point in my life, I was able to think in four languages. Depending on where in the world I was and with whom I was talking.

Today it takes a lot of time for my mind to return to German or Transylvanian Saxon. If I spent a lot of time with my family and only speak my mother tongue for hours then I get back into it.

Living in Germany will obviously make my German more fluent again. But the French I won’t get back out of the storage room. At least not for now.

And yes, my husband and I speak English to each other. And every person who’s telling me we have to speak German (because of my family background which isn’t even German) should first experience being in a relationship with someone not just from a foreign country, but from a different continent.

Misunderstandings happen in a normal relationship where both partners have the same mother tongue. Just imagine how it is when you’re communicating in your second or even fourth language.

Then we can talk again.

I belong to a minority.

If I get asked where I am from there is a high chance I’ll reply “Transylvania” and not Germany. I am sure more proud of that part of my heritage than the fact I was born in Germany which has a lot to do with how they raised us in school. But more about that in this article.

And if you’re saying now “oh, so you’re a vampire, a descendant of Dracula”. No, I am not. Or maybe I am? Who knows? But judging by the amount of garlic I am eating, I don’t think so.

So let me explain to you more about my heritage and where I really come from.

My parents come from Romania and belong to a German-speaking minority called “Transylvanian Saxons”.

People of western Germany, the Alsace and parts of Belgium/Luxemburg escaped mass starvation and epidemics in central Europe in the 12th century and settled down in what is known today as “Transylvania“.

The tribe built their own villages, formed their own language and carried on their culture and traditions for centuries. Only towards the end of the cold war, life in Romania got very tough and land was taken from the hard-working population by the government.

This was when most of the nation left Transylvania and ventured out to the western world, most of them “returning” to Germany.

The language spoken by these people is called “Transylvanian Saxon” which has confusingly nothing to do with the German dialect and region “Saxony”. My mother tongue has its roots in the German language but also has features taken from Hungarian, Romanian, and other languages.

Funny enough, it is closest today to the language spoken in Luxemburg. Luxemburgian is not Dutch, nor Flemish. It has its own language despite being such a small country. And I can understand it.

That much about my background. Where I really come from and why I am maybe not like most Germans how many would describe me (whatever that means).

I studied early childhood education and development.

People tell me I studied something I never use in life.

That is when I start laughing.

Yes, I might have never picked up the job of a kindergarten teacher.

But that doesn’t mean I never used the methods, skills, and knowledge I learned in my studies.

I use them every day.

Every.

Single.

Day.

As a sandboarding instructor, a climbing instructor, and a skydiving instructor. All those professions of mine I have practiced over the years have one thing in common.

Teaching someone something.

Which is exactly what I studied.

It doesn’t matter whom you teach. A baby, child, or adult. Or what you teach. How to talk and eat or how to climb and fly. The methods used remain the same.

But yes, I studied education.

Before I turned my life upside down and lost my heart somewhere on the African continent…

I once was told I would never become a writer.

In school, I used to be good at arts, sports, and geography. Writing wasn’t one of my strengths. Mainly because my high school teacher told me I’d never become a writer after I handed him my latest essay.

If he only knew…

Maybe I should send him a copy of my first book.

I have never been to Berlin, the capital of my home country.

I have been to many capitals in the world. Paris, Amsterdam, Vienna, Brussels, Prague, Budapest, Bukarest, Accra, Dar Es Salaam, Lusaka, Windhoek, Pretoria, Gaborone, Bangkok, and Kuala Lumpur. (I’m not sure, I might have forgotten one or two.)

But no, I have never been to the capital of my own home country. While I always used to travel, I was never interested in Berlin. And growing up in Stuttgart, the capital was 700 kilometers away from my home.

It might as well have been in China.

And there was actually a point in my life where I was closer to going to China than to Berlin. But life changes and so do plans.

In my new home, I am 70 kilometers away from the city center of Berlin. Let’s see if I make it to the capital now and how long it will take me to get there.

My husband is from Namibia, southern Africa.

Yes, he is white. He is still African. He is born in Africa, and so are his parents and grandparents.

Also, Africa is not a country. We also don’t say we’re European either. We say we’re from Italy, Germany, or the Netherlands.

It is not his fault your education system did not teach you about the 54 countries located on the African continent. And nothing about colonialism, apartheid, and the migration of peoples across the globe.

(This one is a bit of a rant because traveling the world with my husband has opened my eyes to how little others know about the African continent and his country in general. If my husband is asked today where he’s from, he simply replies “Germany”. Because he is tired of the explanations. To explain where Namibia is located. That he is born in Africa and still is white. And, and, and…)

I have never taken paid leave.

I know, I travel a lot and I make many others jealous of my lifestyle. But my life is a lot different from what you think. It does not come with a lot of benefits you think are normal.

I pay for my own health care (abroad and at home).

I do not have paid leave days. Every vacation I ever took was unpaid leave.

These are only two of many.

I don’t mind this. Because it is part of my lifestyle. But many others forget that they also have the chance to travel more if they would take unpaid leave. Which is exactly what I do.

I also only get paid when I’m in the air. I don’t get paid when I arrive at work. Hours don’t count, only jumps. If the weather is bad the whole week, well then I don’t earn anything.

Every shining lifestyle comes with its struggles and challenges. So does mine too.

Talking of which…

I jump out of planes for fun.

And for work, too.

Most of you know this part of my life, especially those who are following me for a while, but I know many readers join my blog every day and this is something they might not know (yet).

I am a skydiving instructor. I teach students how to skydive in one-on-one training sessions in the air and I take customers on a tandem skydive. Either way, I get paid to jump out of planes.

And I love it.

I don’t drink coffee. Ever.

I never did.

I grew up in a relatively small kitchen where my sister and I would be sitting at the kitchen countertop eating breakfast cereals when my mom would come in, open the cupboard and bring out the box of freshly ground coffee to make herself another cup.

She’d open that box and I would get hit with that smell. I know every coffee drinker is saying now “but that is a beautiful scent”. Maybe for an adult, but not for a child.

I hated it. I would get nauseous. I don’t think I ever said something, but I would hold my breath until she put back that box.

Well, since then I can’t stand the smell, taste, and look of coffee. I have tasted once a sip of an Irish coffee. Because I was told there’s more alcohol than coffee in it. But I tasted the coffee. I didn’t like it.

I don’t even like sweats with coffee flavor or cakes made with coffee powder.

So, please don’t invite me over for “coffee”. I’ll take a cup of tea instead. Pretty much any tea. Traveling the world without drinking coffee has taught me a lot about teas. And I love drinking tea. But not coffee.

Then rather serve me a glass of tap water. That’s also fine.

Did I get to ten points now? I think so. I don’t know but I could probably come up with more things. I also know this article got once again a little longer.

My life isn’t very normal, which is why my answers aren’t either. I need more words to explain it all. My heritage, my relationship, my work, my travels. My life is a little more complex than the rest. Which is why I talk. In words.

How many of these points were new to you? I’m curious. Please let me know in the comments below.

If you did like this different type of about-me story, I invite you to read the responses of these writers as well.

Mary DeVries with “Ten Somewhat Interesting Things You Might Not Know About Me”

Adrienne Beaumont with “Ten things you don’t know about me…”

Hudson Rennie with “10 Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me”

Trista Signe Ainsworth with “10 Things You Didn’t Know About Me”

Susan Alison with “Ten Things About Me”

And here are more stories about me and my kind of different life:

Join my email list here if you would like to read more personal essays or sign up for the Medium membership to receive unlimited access to my and other writer’s stories out here (I will receive a commission fee in return).