A start is never easy. Not in life and not with this post. Not easy, mostly because it’s very personal, because it’s about my feelings. Being an introvert, it’s the hardest actually. But it not easy either, because it includes my origin, my education and my previous home, where people have more or less the same attitude and mentality like I have/had. But I’m certain, it’s pretty different from what I’m experiencing here. I’m not sure whether I could hand all of this over to you, who probably had/has completely different environment, but I’ll try my best. And I have to start from the beginning, so it’ll be long journey.
Are you with me?
When I was a child
I’m not a stupid girl, actually I have a quite good brain, so it was pretty obvious that I have to do something really good with my life. Something good, what my parents and their parents never had and maybe never dreamed of. I had to learn, to be diligent and hard working in order to be somebody once. I had to accept that my parents didn’t have too much money and that money was not growing on the trees, but the result of hard working. And so I did. I didn’t have any objection, I did what they asked. However, I never was a kitchen fairy or the best child in the world, I took seriously that my only obligation is to learn and be someone. Someone more, who can make/earn/look for (in Hungarian) a lot of money.
So I learned, I was diligent, I had a good conduct (at least before I’d become a teenager, when Rebel become my middle name :)), I improved myself, I learned languages (mainly German, and the basics of English), moreover, I was drawing a lot. And the years passed without bigger changes. I thought I would be?come? someone with a lot of money. Without knowing what does that mean exactly.
Where I was born
Actually the plan wasn’t that bad until the point when I had to decide what I want to be, when I was around 14. My parents’ only request was to have a degree. It didn’t matter that from what, I just had to get it. I suppose they didn’t want to force anything and choose for me. How could they know? How could my teachers know? Nobody knew nothing, but one thing. Getting that paper is crucial. Because the paper means money. And they didn’t make a big mistake as studies read that people who have a degree more likely can get a good job, in order to have more money. But as it turned out, life is not so easy.
But I was a kid. What could I know about life, having a job and making money? I had no idea what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be. I just knew that I have to make a lot of money. Because making money = good = happiness. I also knew, that I liked drawing and had some talent to it. Moreover, I was interested in fashion, and of course it didn’t matter, I didn’t have to choose from being an advocate or doctor or a manager, like most of the parents would imagine their child. So I figured out that I would be a fashion designer. Because why not?
Going to college, making a degree
I easily got into the college, although staying in was a way more difficult task. It was a Light-industrial engineer with product designer specialization degree, so I had to learn Math (derivation, integration someone?), Mechanics, Mechanism and Physics. I hated them, but I got through. But at least I loved the creative side. Every bit of it and in 2008 I got my bachelor degree.
Yes, I did have a degree, but had no money at all. So what now? I suppose, I shouldn’t say that living without any money is hard, really hard because it’s the same everywhere. What I have to mention, that we’re speaking about Hungary here, and Hungary has nothing, except for some agriculture, some bigger car factory and plenty of services. So nobody needs a fresh from the college fashion designer.
Starting to work
It should have been the first clue, but I didn’t have time to think about it, money was needed, so I become an administrator/receptionist. Because again, why not? I have plenty of common sense, Excel and Word knowledge and communication skills to do so.
At this point I’m gonna shorten a bit, to get to the point. I changed, became a project assistant and with hard working and more and more experience – and well -, some more common sense, I got promoted to be a project/program manager. It was a pretty big deal. I got good money and after a while we didn’t have to worry about the financials. I could finally afford to buy things in Zara and Mango and H&M! And that was enough.
Everything was going fine. Except for I didn’t do what I wanted, and the fact, that after a while everything comes to an end (changes right?). So did the pretty good world at my workplace. Again, I won’t bore you with the details. My husband (back then my boyfriend) was an IT guy, wanted to come abroad, and his job got ceased too. And I won’t describe the whole political situation because what for? It was bad (it’s still bad), we thought we would never get a better chance to get some experience, language skills and some more money.
Moving abroad, finding no job
I won’t lie though. I was afraid. Very much. And I never feared for my hubby, I knew he would get a decent job in a minute. I was afraid because English never was my first chosen language, I never used it, except for reading a dozens of blogs and watching some movies (with subtitles of course). So I could read, and had a pretty good vocabulary, but nothing more. I knew I wouldn’t got a proper project manager job, but I had a ray of hope that maybe I could do what I always wanted deep in my heart. Also we agreed, we could always go back home and continue everything from where it was cut off.
My hubby started to work immediately. I started improving my English and I started to look for a job in Cork where we moved first. But nothing happened. I got deeply devastated. After six months we decided to try London. After all we should have more opportunity here.
In Ireland, I have some nice memories too, and the St Patrick’s day is definitely among them
Moving to London, working at Zara
We moved here a year ago. I instantly started to search for jobs and eventually I got one as a sale assistant at Zara. It was like a dream came true. I didn’t care that I was ‘just’ a sales assistant for peanuts. I had a job, I had a job in London, moreover, I had a job at Zara! I dreamed about growing into someone there too. But dreams are fragile things. I learned fast that it’s not for me. I understand why it works that way that it does, and I didn’t mind the actual work. But I minded the ever changing rota and that I had no plans, no evenings, no weekends and no holidays. I minded the work circumstances, I minded my manager who criticized me for everything – according to him – in order to make me a better sales assistant. Not that, it would’ve been a difficult job, but whatever.
And you know what? It was really difficult to accept the fact that I knew I could do much better than this, after all, I was a manager back in Hungary. I was somebody there, I had reached something. I’m clever, I’m educated, I have common sense, I could do much better, but I can’t sell it. Maybe if I had started this earlier, it could’ve worked out, but it was too late for that. It’s not easy to accept that you have to start everything over.
After few months of working it was pretty clear that I couldn’t do, what I did at my previous workplace, I couldn’t improve in such circumstances, so I quit.
Our very first week in London, everything started so nicely
So what now?
I was happy that I made this decision, but the question remained. What should I do with myself? We didn’t have enough money to pay for proper schools and I tried one of the free school but it wasn’t worth the fee of commuting either. I was struggling again. I wanted a job, something, anything, I mean in an office. But then again, nobody wanted me. And it got worse and worse, day by day. I lost all of my motivation and every bit of my self-esteem – what I had left. At one point I just wanted to go back to Hungary. Being somebody again, making money again. Because making money = good = happiness.
But my husband didn’t want to go home. He was/is fine here, like a fish in the water, and also he wouldn’t have those opportunities what he has here. And I won’t lie, but I think it’s pretty clear, that he was the one who made and can make the better money. You just can’t compete with a clever IT guy. You have no chance. So we had to figure out something, what makes me happy too. Or at least gives me the illusion of being happy.
Starting the Style Cat Blog
So I started this very blog. As I said in my first post, it wasn’t my first attempt and I’m still not exactly sure where I’m heading with all of these. But the first time in my life, I’m doing what I really enjoy to do, what makes me happy, what always made me happy. Moreover, it gives me something more: writing. And the recognition that it always should’ve had been writing. Maybe if I could go back in time I would change it. But then my whole life would be a totally different story. So maybe it’s good the way it is, and I can’t go back anyway, so there’s no point to think about it, right? 🙂 But maybe, maybe it can be useful to others, who thinks what I thought, what my parents thought, what everybody thought.
So writing, blogging, making outfit posts, it is. And the order of these? Sure, I love fashion, pretty clothes, getting dressed and making pictures, but I got to figure it out, that my strongest and most desired side have always been writing. I was always good at it in school and at work too. Well, in Hungarian, but you get my point. And if for nothing else, it was already worth for this.
My self made logo of the blog, I definitely should start drawing again
Keeping up until I can
I still have my doubts though. Is it the same writing in English as doing it in Hungarian?Not grammatically – even though that’s an important part. What I’m curious about is this; if I’m good at a certain language (what is so, but so different from everything else), can I apply it to a different one? If yes, how fast? Am I being too old? Can I hand over what I want? Do you get what I want? Am I talented or should I do something else? Or eventually go back to Hungary to write there? Or not at all?
I don’t know. I can’t be sure, because I’m not a native speaker. I started with basically nothing. Most of the things what you can see here, is mostly observation and self-improvement. As an outsider, without proper English, without any (at least a Hungarian) training and school. For example I’m not sure how many things I have above which is hard to understand for a native English speaker or anybody else for that matter, but at least I’m trying. So all of your feedback means the world to me. But still want to improve, being better. I’m still reading a lot, but now with the intention to develop my skills. Maybe at some point I can go to school as well, that’s the main reason I joined Patreon too. Getting feedback and some money for self improvement. 🙂
But this was just the half of the story. Because I’m still trying to accept and remind myself all the time that the equation of life is not making money = good = happiness anymore, but just a pretty important part of it. And that I am somebody without a fancy title or a fancy salary. It’s not easy, though. And I know, that probably just a few of my fellow Hungarians get this. Because they can’t afford this luxury. Because there you have to be grateful and honored for every shitty work.
But I’m not there anymore. I have this opportunity now, so I keep doing it. I keep writing and we’ll see what’s going to happen. I keep improving my skills, blogging about fashion, writing what’s in my head and I keep in mind what all of these mean now. Making this blog is being and enjoying myself. Moreover, it’s building my self-esteem and building my life again.
So thank you for being a part of this journey, being a part of my life, my thoughts and my outfits too. And please believe me when I’m saying; I’m truly grateful and I really appreciate every bit of support, let it be a comment, a like or being my follower here or anywhere else on Social Media, or maybe pledging a dollar on Patreon. Because now it means not just a hobby, it means my work, but my self-esteem and life too.
Thank you for being here, thank you for being a part of my rebirth!
PS: And of course I thank to my hubby, because without him I couldn’t do this (after all he’s the breadwinner and the photographer too :)). Well, actually I wouldn’t be here either, but I believe that it should be like this.