Gather 'round, dear friends, and let me tell you the tale of how I, Olympia, came to be.
'Tis a tale of fate, of friendship, of foolish timing and fearless love – the kind that would make even the stars sigh - or at least roll their eyes and whisper, “Finally”.
Many moons ago – nineteen winters to be precise – there lived a young boy named Sander. Sharp of mind, big of heart, and not yet aware of the destiny that awaited him. He studied at his old school of the Jezuiets, in the noble Kingdom of Antwerp, where the lockers creaked like little drawbridges and the hallways echoed with teenage whispers, and the occasional existential crisis.
One fateful September morning, word spread like wildfire through the schoolyard:
“A girl has arrived! Nay – TWO!”
A pair of sisters from a faraway land had joined the realm – Raissa and her twin sister. They arrived as if carried by a breeze from some distant story book with something quietly captivating about them. Heads turned. Time paused. Hormones panicked.
Sander and his loyal companions laid eyes upon them, and Sander — poor boy — was instantly struck by a curse most powerful: a crush on Radiant Raissa, so intense it could’ve derailed entire empires - or at least his concentration in French class.
And thus, dear reader … our saga began.
From that day forth, he plotted not conquest, but friendship. And lo! It worked. They became best of friends, the kind who laughed till the sun rose and shared secrets like hidden treasures.
In their final year of school, destiny once again lent her hand. Raissa and her sister invited brave souls to share a noble student dwelling in the heart of Antwerp. “We may go to study,” they said, “but not alone – our father would have our heads!” And so Sander, ever the opportunist in love, raised his hand high and pledged himself to the cause.
Thus began the first great chapter: Three housemates. One apartment. Countless memories.
Now hear this, noble reader – at that time, Raissa had a suitor, and so did Sander. But love, that wily little fox, does not wait politely. As seasons turned, glances lingered longer, late-night chats became rituals, and laughter filled every room. Still, they resisted. "Friends," they said. Just friends. But even the walls could feel the truth trembling beneath.
Then – a twist! Raissa declared, “I shall study in Florence! Six months abroad!” And Sander, valiant as ever, nodded bravely... but then promptly chased her halfway across the continent. Fourteen hours he drove, again and again, just to see Raissa's radiant smile in the Tuscan sun.
And still, no declarations were made.
Back in Antwerp, Raissa often “just happened” to have to sleep at Sander’s place. Not officially, of course. It was always “just easier,” or “I forgot my keys again!” A thousand tiny excuses that all led to the same outcome: one bed, two hearts, zero clarity.
And whenever another maiden dared flirt with him — even slightly, even innocently — Raissa would appear as if summoned by an ancient protective spell. With a perfectly timed smile, she was quick to declare, “Oh, Sander? He’s mine. Kind of. Mostly. Don’t ask questions.”
It wasn’t quite possession, nor declaration. It was something softer, sneakier, trickier — a claim woven from glances, from shared mornings and late-night jokes no one else understood. It was clear to everyone but them: their hearts were no longer their own. Though they were, impressively, the last to find out.
Finally, our hero could take it no more. With his courage bottled, his heart on fire, and perhaps a little ale in his belly, he made his move. “Let us not play games,” he said.“I love you. Let me be your knight, your partner, your cocktail maker for life.”
Raissa, shocked and frightened by the fire of true love, pretended to forget the whole thing the next morning. The classic move.
But love – true love – is patient. And after a bit more waiting, a few more stolen kisses, and one final moment of bravery... she said yes.
And so it began.
The years that followed were, in every sense of the word, legendary.
They sailed off to London — a grand, misty kingdom across the sea — where they built a life of their own.
They lived in tiny flats and big ideas.
They worked, dreamed, danced in kitchens, and held each other close through late nights and early mornings.
Side by side, they grew — not just older, but wiser, funnier, softer, braver.
They walked through rain with no umbrella.
They found joy in the ordinary.
They discovered that home was not a place, but a person.
And after many seasons in the city of fog and charm, they returned to the land where their story first began — Belgium — with hearts fuller, arms stronger, and roots ready to sink into the earth.
By now it had been over fifteen years since they first locked eyes in the schoolyard. Some people move fast. My parents... do not.
But then finally, on a day both ordinary and extraordinary, Sander knelt down and asked Raissa the question his heart had carried for years.
She said yes.(Again)
And then… one morning, like magic…
I appeared
A little heartbeat. A tiny promise.
Olympia – daughter of Raissa the Radiant and Sander the Patient.
Born of a love story that took its time, danced around a bit, got lost, found itself, and became the most beautiful adventure of all.
And now, my tale begins. But that, dear friends, is a story for another time.
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