The little Princess Part 1

I grew up in a very “normal” family, if you think about “normal” as a very changeable value for each of us. At least, from my point of view, as there was no other “normal”, it was as it was. Father, mother and four children. My sister Micha was the first, then came I, then my brothers Alex and Basti. Apart from the fact that they all annoyed me, what siblings probably do most of their time – it is their job so to say – it was still always good to have them. Especially for me it was good, because I was actually not a real human child as I was a princess after all. And for that not to stand out, I had the need to camouflage myself. So to speak, these three siblings were exactly what I needed.

They were the human children I could orient myself on, whose behaviour I could watch and follow, whose words I could adopt and they were my backing if I didn’t have normal human behaviour in stock. Because as weird as I was, my siblings were good at making some noise at the right moment, so my not-normalness wasn’t noticed, not even by them.

Often, I had this urgent desire of being all by myself. And in the best of all worlds, this “being alone” would not have been noticed by the others, so to speak: being all by myself, where family life happens in its wildest. This is, why my most beautiful place as a little princess was practically right in my room. On the far left of the radiator, on the floor. A small pillow to sit always waiting for me and the back on the radiator was nicely chilled by the steel in the warm summer and heated up in the cold winter when the radiator was on. I always sat on the far left, because that’s where the regulator was and I often had to regulate the heat, as I sat there for hours, sometimes it even felt like millennia, sweating or freezing in between, a couple of times my back seemed to burn, that’s how hot it went.

Next to the pillow lay a book, with a bookmark on any page, because I never read sitting here, it was my camouflage. Because, if I read, my brothers and sister knew, that I didn’t want to be bothered. I changed books regularly and kept rearranging the bookmark. And I buckled a few pages every now and then, because in that way, the books looked like being read. Oh yes, this, the very floor by the heating in my room, was my retreat.

The door was never locked and outside hung a self-written list of rules with 10 points of conduct. The first point was that one should knock before entering and the second then explained if I didn’t answer, one would have to stay out. I wrote it very clearly and yet no one cared for those first two, which for me were the most important, rules.

My brothers and sister knocked while coming in, which completely made no sense.

My dad didn’t knock at all. He could read, but I’m not sure to this day how mindfully he’s ever handled my room door, apart from the fact that his hand caught the door handle without any problems.

My mum rarely came up when I was sitting there at my favourite place. She had a lot to do with the others. Homework, cooking, arguing, window cleaning, … and at one point she called to dinner.

That is, how I remember my retreat and the most beautiful thing was what happened, at the very moment I sat down on my place on the pillow. Okay, there was no real stardust, no glitter rain, no applause. But it somehow felt like that. It felt to me like when I was finally safe. It felt like I was expected here, welcome, allowed to be me and all that. My heart beat purple trees, my body was showered with funny tingling, someone seemed to shout loudly cheering: “Princess. Finally, you’re here. I’ve been waiting! ‘

When I think back, I was sitting in this place very often. Probably daily. I missed dinners, family game nights or important meet ups for arrangements such as weekly schedules for services in the household, so I was often assigned the most stupid task.

Sometimes, something took me to that place already even though I was still somewhere else as a human child. Sometimes I experienced a month as a princess at the heating, even though it only was an hour in a human child’s life, because I could also travel through time and space. When something was (and still is) calling me from deep inside. Then I did (and still do) transform into Princess Gaia.

And Princess Gaia is – as described before – not a person as such. It rather is my safe hiding place. Princess Gaia is a magic tent under which I can turn my inside to the outside without feeling naked or being in harm.


The first time, that I transformed into Princess Gaia, I realized, that I was still myself. And I realized at the same time, that I was the world. And the deep feeling inside of me gave me that sensation of being any other human being on Earth. This experience was very painful and I wrote. Poems. In the beginning I wrote poems. They were full of emotions and full of words, that were not mine. But I let them flow through my hands and I let the pen create one poem after the other.

In a very conscious way, I started to befriend with the words that came. And I found out, that they were not only human words that had a deep need to being expressed. Even more so, these words were spoken by the Planet, by Nature, by things and goods.

In the beginning, I would not want to listen to them. It felt not right. Was I becoming crazy? But they would not let me go. Now, that someone could listen. Now, that someone would be able to understand and translate. Now, that they found a way to connect to humankind.

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