I got a comment from Junebug
asking me how to pronounce my nickname Jientje.
You see, first I'll try to explain what it means, or rather what that name means to me.
It all started in the early eighties, when my husband and I decided to share a life together.
I was his second wife, and my mother-in-law refused to accept her son's choice.
Months passed by before his parents finally came up to the appartement to visit us.
It was the first time I would meet them and I was rather nervous.
The doorbell rang and they came in.
My knees became wobbly, and the palms of my hands were getting clamp.
I wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, .... become very small and invisible,
.... hide in a flowerpot, or in a teacup for that matter, .... whatever,
anything to save me from this moment I dreaded and wanted at the same time.
Of course I wanted to meet them, but I was so scared to be hurt too.
My father-in-law entered the living room with his arms wide open,
welcoming me into them.
As he approached me he nicknamed me ... Jientje.
Sadly enough, a few years later he died, and that name almost died with him.
Nobody called me Jientje anymore.
And then, last year when I started my other blog, I had to choose a nickname.
I decided I would call myself Jientje again.
Maybe I should change it, I don't know, should I?
Using two different nicknames on two different blogs seems soooooo confusing to me?
Anyway, you can all think of me as Jeany, because that would be the right translation.
If it's too difficult, let me know,
but if you ask me,
in my heart I would rather stick to Jientje.
That nickname Jientje is all about being accepted for who I am , and what I am ...
asking me how to pronounce my nickname Jientje.
You see, first I'll try to explain what it means, or rather what that name means to me.
It all started in the early eighties, when my husband and I decided to share a life together.
I was his second wife, and my mother-in-law refused to accept her son's choice.
Months passed by before his parents finally came up to the appartement to visit us.
It was the first time I would meet them and I was rather nervous.
The doorbell rang and they came in.
My knees became wobbly, and the palms of my hands were getting clamp.
I wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, .... become very small and invisible,
.... hide in a flowerpot, or in a teacup for that matter, .... whatever,
anything to save me from this moment I dreaded and wanted at the same time.
Of course I wanted to meet them, but I was so scared to be hurt too.
My father-in-law entered the living room with his arms wide open,
welcoming me into them.
As he approached me he nicknamed me ... Jientje.
Sadly enough, a few years later he died, and that name almost died with him.
Nobody called me Jientje anymore.
And then, last year when I started my other blog, I had to choose a nickname.
I decided I would call myself Jientje again.
Maybe I should change it, I don't know, should I?
Using two different nicknames on two different blogs seems soooooo confusing to me?
Anyway, you can all think of me as Jeany, because that would be the right translation.
If it's too difficult, let me know,
but if you ask me,
in my heart I would rather stick to Jientje.
That nickname Jientje is all about being accepted for who I am , and what I am ...
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