It all started with a sense.

It all started with a sense.

There was this customer a few weeks ago. She asked me to make a bracelet for her best friend. A simple bracelet, with a secret message on the inside.

Now, this is not unusual for me or other leather crafters. Personalized gifts and secret messages on bracelets is something we often see.

I have personalized my bracelets for their recipients with special dates, names, words, phrases, poems and song lyrics.

Sometimes with things that only the gifter and the recipient can understand their meaning.

This one felt special from the very first moment, and it was just three words, with the loudest of statements.

The customer asked me to write: "I make sense."

Hold on to this and I will return later.

     It all started with a sense.

There was a time I felt completely lost. So lost, that I caught myself randomly throughout the day questioning my whole existence. I was in doubt of my beliefs, my thoughts, my life, my character, my quality/value as a human being and as an individual.

Never felt so insecure, unsure and confused in my entire life.

Was I doing everything wrong? - Because everything in my life felt being totally wrong.

I was married to the wrong person, for all possible wrong reasons, I had driven myself into a wrong life situation, unemployed, raising two little kids alone, 500 km away from my family, in a huge and unfamiliar city, without a car, without friends, without help, without - without - without. 

I was deep down in the maze - and I knew I had to get myself out. I mean, what were my other options?

Accepting I failed by all means? 

Betraying the little kid I used to be, growing up in the '90s, with the broken tooth I earned by standing up for my best friend, and the scar on my forearm by trying to cut a slice of a huge watermelon with a kitchen knife when I was just 10?

Or...betraying my own children by giving up?

This. Was not an option.

                     It all started with a sense.

Failing, was not an option.

Giving up, was not an option. 

So, once I reached the bottom - there's always a bottom, or a limit, if you want, that you know very well, that once you cross it, you are never likely going to return back.

And I did what I learned to do well in my life: Fight.

One morning, I woke up, faced the mirror and told myself: "Okay, that's it. I had enough."

Enough of the silent cries. Enough of the loneliness. Enough of isolation. Enough of silence. 


And do you know what happened next? I heard a click, deep inside my guts. I swear to you, I heard it. It was that very moment I knew I had already taken the first and biggest, and hardest of steps. 

The first step to get my life back. 

All the moments stolen from me and lost, all the new memories waiting to be created, all the life I had ahead of me, waiting for me to live it.

       It all started with a sense.


Two years later. 

I took a divorce, moved to a new home with my kids, found true love in a man I totally make sense to. 

       It all started with a sense.

Slowly building my little store, making gifts, sharing love, creating memories to everyone who makes sense by just being true to themselves, to everyone that keeps fighting for what is right, for their life, their dreams, their love, their freedom. 

Hell yeah, we make sense. 

Never. Ever. Let anyone make you believe otherwise.

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