From the depth of my heart - thank you! You are my daughter's age. I remember exactly what I was doing when you were born - teaching a class on architecture with an emphasis on Chartres Cathedral. I've always been interested in mythology, philosophy, and Steiner's Spiritual Science. I decided in my early twenties (1998) that I would dedicate myself to spiritual development in service of the world. Steiner died in 1925 and gave vivid, accurate, and bleak predictions about how the future would unfold. He said the last of the 'generation of the doers' would be born in 1999 and that the spiritual work done in the years 2012-2024 would define the rest of the millennium. Close friends of his, after hearing his predictions asked 'is there no hope for the future?' He replied 'Have no fear, after 2000 the Manicheans will incarnate and they will bring the spiritual world with them into earthly life.' I've been patiently waiting - I'm so grateful to your mother.
Dear reader, if you’ll forgive me, I read your message to my mother, and she cried, according to her, with pride and honour. Your comment struck her as deeply as it did me. I'm not able to find the right words to express my gratitude and happiness to you at the moment, but thank you sincerely for the care with which you penned such graceful words, for their simplicity and honesty. God, if you believe in one, may watch over you and your daughter; in any case, I wish you both peace.
I am overjoyed that you shared this with your mother! These are such powerful and beautiful times. I don't know if you follow the planets, but just around the time of your most significant 21st birthday, Pluto is going into Aquarius for a couple of decades at least. Power will transition for 'institutional authority' to new lateral social connections. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to be here and see this unfolding. Oh and yes, I do believe in God. My art, meditations, and prayers are for God. And many blessings for you and your dear Mother (and little sister?)
I mentioned before - I am glad I found you. It is amazing, in this gigantic world, how people come to connect. Everything you write, I enjoy. Maybe more importantly, everything you write, gets me to contemplate on a deeper level. Again, heartfelt thanks.
I feel just as fortunate to have connected with you, and I’m grateful to be part of these exchanges that spark such meaningful contemplation. Thank you, sincerely, for your kind words—they inspire me to keep sharing.
This was such a beautiful read, Dilay, thank you so much for sharing this vulnerable glimpse into the people and the forces that shaped you, the passions that drew you, and the precious girl inside who was and has been fielding so many possibilities and expectations, adventures and loneliness, driven to understand and yearning for connection. Your mother and aunt sound like amazing women, and I found myself inspired as I navigate the challenges of motherhood and lost dreams.
You are an incredible woman, with still so much inside. So much to who you are that is still yearning to be known, simply as you are, with all your complexities and contradictions. I hope life brings you many rich and enduring relationships, people who will know you and let themselves be known to you.
Thank you for your thoughtful words; they strike a rare chord within me. To know that my story reached you on such a personal level is a quiet but profound affirmation. There is a particular vulnerability in laying bare fragments of ourselves, and yet your response is a reminder of the rare beauty that lies in such exchanges—a testament to the power of true connection.
Your journey also holds a quiet heroism in your own beautiful way, I'm sure of it. May we both find those rare, enduring connections that touch the soul, that hold steady amid all that is transient.
Thank you, again. Your comment means more than you know. <3
When I stumbled upon the subtitle, Who is Dilay, I didn’t expect to read such masterfully crafted narration. This is exemplary, Dilay, and I find myself closer to you already. You are mature beyond your years, and detecting an abundance of similarities brought me a sense of belonging and recognition.
Thank you so much—truly, your words mean a great deal to me. It’s incredibly gratifying to know that something I’ve written resonates with you on that level. Finding those subtle connections brings a sense of belonging to me as well.
I’ll carry your encouragement with me as I write. Thank you for reading and for making this journey feel a little less solitary.
Interesting and unexpected question; thank you for asking. The answer, to put it simply, is yes.
I’ve often wondered if my range of interests and pursuits stems from a deeply ingrained, almost conditional attachment I learned early on—like a quiet, persistent lesson that affection was something to be earned. If I could master an instrument, score well, excel somehow, I might be rewarded with a stronger bond, which nobody told me it had no connection with this idea whatsoever. And in such an environment, I began creating versions of myself, subtle masks to please and appeal. Each of these selves are real in their way. Yet, they are distant, cold, and ambiguous, designed to protect the truer self hidden beneath: the one who laughs and babbles when no one is watching, who, if left alone, would rather hug and kiss than shut up or argue.
I actually wrote something about this once, when I was almost 16, struggling with my humanitarian relationships. It might answer better than I could now:
'To think—no, to know—that even if I were in a story, among a cast of lost souls wrapped in moral ambiguity, I would inevitably meet a bitter, ironic end in each one. It gnaws at me, leaves a desolation behind. You could ask anyone around me—the people who’ve come and gone, those still lingering, the familiar throats that claim to know me. They’d tell you I’m the “once-aloof, now almost tender” figure; the one whose coldness melts if you’re patient enough to pierce her walls, whose silence yields to what they call kindness. And yet none of them grasp, not truly, the tempest that coils beneath. The aggression, the fury, the longing for those murky deeds—they see none of it, feel none of it.
Perhaps it is I who cannot process the thing within, the creature that festers and dreams of moral fog. I don’t even know where this burden lodges itself within me; it simply lurks, unresolved like a silent illness. But if I am to be certain of one thing now, it’s that whether by some misguided sense of heroism or the slow burning of guilt, the story would end predictably, inevitably. I would die, and all of them would see me as a villain, cunning and twisted. Never she was truly real, somehow she was always faking it.'
It's a little dramatic and a little too long, but I hope it didn't go opposite ways with the answer you wished for.
This was so easy when we were kids, but ,can we be friends? While I was reading this to get to know a little bit about you, I was constantly nodding my head and saying yes, yes and yes. And about your knowledge of languages, I am surprised and very envious jaja
I know right! It’s an undeniable yes on my end. I've actually been following you on Instagram for a while, and if I may say so, your aesthetic—if that’s the fitting word—resonates deeply with me. Oh and, thank you for taking the time to read, truly.
That's very kind of you :) And I loved being able to read something so intimate, I always like to get to know a little bit more about the people who connect with me here. Besides, I have the bad habit of judging people by their literary tastes, and well, we have too much in common, I loved your post! Are you at insta with the same name? so i can follow you back
I think there’s something remarkable in connecting through these little glimpses into each other’s lives. And, I must admit, I share the same habit; perhaps it’s a vice we can excuse.
Yes, I’m at most of the social media with the same name.
It's the best way to get an idea of what a person is like, their favorite books and movies. In my case, sometimes it's immature, but if they don't like or respect The Iliad, we can't be friends jaja (I already followed you on insta)
From the depth of my heart - thank you! You are my daughter's age. I remember exactly what I was doing when you were born - teaching a class on architecture with an emphasis on Chartres Cathedral. I've always been interested in mythology, philosophy, and Steiner's Spiritual Science. I decided in my early twenties (1998) that I would dedicate myself to spiritual development in service of the world. Steiner died in 1925 and gave vivid, accurate, and bleak predictions about how the future would unfold. He said the last of the 'generation of the doers' would be born in 1999 and that the spiritual work done in the years 2012-2024 would define the rest of the millennium. Close friends of his, after hearing his predictions asked 'is there no hope for the future?' He replied 'Have no fear, after 2000 the Manicheans will incarnate and they will bring the spiritual world with them into earthly life.' I've been patiently waiting - I'm so grateful to your mother.
Dear reader, if you’ll forgive me, I read your message to my mother, and she cried, according to her, with pride and honour. Your comment struck her as deeply as it did me. I'm not able to find the right words to express my gratitude and happiness to you at the moment, but thank you sincerely for the care with which you penned such graceful words, for their simplicity and honesty. God, if you believe in one, may watch over you and your daughter; in any case, I wish you both peace.
I am overjoyed that you shared this with your mother! These are such powerful and beautiful times. I don't know if you follow the planets, but just around the time of your most significant 21st birthday, Pluto is going into Aquarius for a couple of decades at least. Power will transition for 'institutional authority' to new lateral social connections. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to be here and see this unfolding. Oh and yes, I do believe in God. My art, meditations, and prayers are for God. And many blessings for you and your dear Mother (and little sister?)
I mentioned before - I am glad I found you. It is amazing, in this gigantic world, how people come to connect. Everything you write, I enjoy. Maybe more importantly, everything you write, gets me to contemplate on a deeper level. Again, heartfelt thanks.
I feel just as fortunate to have connected with you, and I’m grateful to be part of these exchanges that spark such meaningful contemplation. Thank you, sincerely, for your kind words—they inspire me to keep sharing.
This was such a beautiful read, Dilay, thank you so much for sharing this vulnerable glimpse into the people and the forces that shaped you, the passions that drew you, and the precious girl inside who was and has been fielding so many possibilities and expectations, adventures and loneliness, driven to understand and yearning for connection. Your mother and aunt sound like amazing women, and I found myself inspired as I navigate the challenges of motherhood and lost dreams.
You are an incredible woman, with still so much inside. So much to who you are that is still yearning to be known, simply as you are, with all your complexities and contradictions. I hope life brings you many rich and enduring relationships, people who will know you and let themselves be known to you.
Thank you again for sharing <3
Thank you for your thoughtful words; they strike a rare chord within me. To know that my story reached you on such a personal level is a quiet but profound affirmation. There is a particular vulnerability in laying bare fragments of ourselves, and yet your response is a reminder of the rare beauty that lies in such exchanges—a testament to the power of true connection.
Your journey also holds a quiet heroism in your own beautiful way, I'm sure of it. May we both find those rare, enduring connections that touch the soul, that hold steady amid all that is transient.
Thank you, again. Your comment means more than you know. <3
When I stumbled upon the subtitle, Who is Dilay, I didn’t expect to read such masterfully crafted narration. This is exemplary, Dilay, and I find myself closer to you already. You are mature beyond your years, and detecting an abundance of similarities brought me a sense of belonging and recognition.
Keep writing, and keep being awesome!
Thank you so much—truly, your words mean a great deal to me. It’s incredibly gratifying to know that something I’ve written resonates with you on that level. Finding those subtle connections brings a sense of belonging to me as well.
I’ll carry your encouragement with me as I write. Thank you for reading and for making this journey feel a little less solitary.
What an extraordinary range of human accomplishments. Does this make it difficult for anyone to know who is the real you?
Interesting and unexpected question; thank you for asking. The answer, to put it simply, is yes.
I’ve often wondered if my range of interests and pursuits stems from a deeply ingrained, almost conditional attachment I learned early on—like a quiet, persistent lesson that affection was something to be earned. If I could master an instrument, score well, excel somehow, I might be rewarded with a stronger bond, which nobody told me it had no connection with this idea whatsoever. And in such an environment, I began creating versions of myself, subtle masks to please and appeal. Each of these selves are real in their way. Yet, they are distant, cold, and ambiguous, designed to protect the truer self hidden beneath: the one who laughs and babbles when no one is watching, who, if left alone, would rather hug and kiss than shut up or argue.
I actually wrote something about this once, when I was almost 16, struggling with my humanitarian relationships. It might answer better than I could now:
'To think—no, to know—that even if I were in a story, among a cast of lost souls wrapped in moral ambiguity, I would inevitably meet a bitter, ironic end in each one. It gnaws at me, leaves a desolation behind. You could ask anyone around me—the people who’ve come and gone, those still lingering, the familiar throats that claim to know me. They’d tell you I’m the “once-aloof, now almost tender” figure; the one whose coldness melts if you’re patient enough to pierce her walls, whose silence yields to what they call kindness. And yet none of them grasp, not truly, the tempest that coils beneath. The aggression, the fury, the longing for those murky deeds—they see none of it, feel none of it.
Perhaps it is I who cannot process the thing within, the creature that festers and dreams of moral fog. I don’t even know where this burden lodges itself within me; it simply lurks, unresolved like a silent illness. But if I am to be certain of one thing now, it’s that whether by some misguided sense of heroism or the slow burning of guilt, the story would end predictably, inevitably. I would die, and all of them would see me as a villain, cunning and twisted. Never she was truly real, somehow she was always faking it.'
It's a little dramatic and a little too long, but I hope it didn't go opposite ways with the answer you wished for.
Thank you for reading.
This was so easy when we were kids, but ,can we be friends? While I was reading this to get to know a little bit about you, I was constantly nodding my head and saying yes, yes and yes. And about your knowledge of languages, I am surprised and very envious jaja
I know right! It’s an undeniable yes on my end. I've actually been following you on Instagram for a while, and if I may say so, your aesthetic—if that’s the fitting word—resonates deeply with me. Oh and, thank you for taking the time to read, truly.
That's very kind of you :) And I loved being able to read something so intimate, I always like to get to know a little bit more about the people who connect with me here. Besides, I have the bad habit of judging people by their literary tastes, and well, we have too much in common, I loved your post! Are you at insta with the same name? so i can follow you back
I think there’s something remarkable in connecting through these little glimpses into each other’s lives. And, I must admit, I share the same habit; perhaps it’s a vice we can excuse.
Yes, I’m at most of the social media with the same name.
It's the best way to get an idea of what a person is like, their favorite books and movies. In my case, sometimes it's immature, but if they don't like or respect The Iliad, we can't be friends jaja (I already followed you on insta)