Hello, I’m Poe — an old soul in a vibrant life, shaped by worlds, stories, and everything in between.

Born in Thailand and raised in an orphanage, I started shaping my own path at a very young age. When my Belgian parents were working in Thailand, I asked my mother myself if she would adopt me — and she did. At the age of nine, I moved to Belgium after countless adventures through Asia, often riding up front on my father’s motorbike.

My parents later separated, and I grew up with my mother — a sincere, creative, and driven woman. We share many traits: our sensitivity, strength, love for beauty, the need to create, and an independent spirit. She taught me how to stand on my own, to claim my space in the world, and to never let my worth depend on a man. That I can be strong all on my own — that belief runs deep. Both my mother and father have always believed in me and encouraged me to follow my own path.

From a very young age, I’ve been independent — maybe even more than most. That independence has been both a gift and a challenge. It makes me determined, but it also means I often feel the need to do everything by myself. Accepting help, or even just letting people be there for me, is something I still struggle with. I’m learning, slowly, to open myself to that kind of support — but it doesn’t come easy.

What does come naturally to me is caring deeply for people. When someone is close to my heart and true to themselves, I’ll go to great lengths for them. I may not always say it out loud, but my face tends to say what my words don’t. I feel things deeply — and often, visibly.

My mother and I didn’t just share a home, but also a love of cooking and creativity. When she was at work, I would happily explore the kitchen, experimenting with whatever ingredients were around. That curiosity for taste and culture never left me.

And neither did travel. As a teenager, I started exploring the world on my own — with friends, former partners, and often solo. My feet have touched many grounds: from mystical Nepal to vibrant New York, from warm Egypt to awe-inspiring Iceland. I’ve visited Hong Kong, Slovenia, Portugal, Turkey, Italy… and so many more. But two countries have truly stolen my heart: Thailand, where my roots lie — and Italy, which moves me time and time again with its language, culture, atmosphere, food, opera, theatre, and the way people there so deeply enjoy life together. I just don’t care much for their politics.

People often describe me as an old soul — and I see it too. I love being surrounded by people with life experience, people I can learn from, who aren’t afraid of depth. I often feel more connected to people older than me — those I can have real conversations with. Maybe that’s because I’ve lived through a lot myself. Everything I’ve been through has shaped me and changed the way I see life. It taught me how precious everything is, how important it is to truly enjoy what you can, and that sometimes, you need to push your own limits.

One of the ways I’ve chosen to give space to my experiences and pain is through creativity. I write, I invent recipes, I cook, I photograph, I draw, I paint — that’s how I process, how I transform what hurts into something meaningful. I’ve always had a deep love for books, for reflection, for philosophy. I’m endlessly curious — not just about adventures, but about knowledge. I want to understand things, everything, from the texture of a dish to the shape of a thought. From fashion to history — the world fascinates me. Always has.

I’ve lived with abandonment anxiety (and still do), I’ve known hunger, I’ve been humiliated by men, I’ve survived years of sexual abuse and rape. I’ve harmed myself, gone through deep depressions, and faced burnout. But through — and perhaps because of — the pain, I kept transforming. I kept growing. Over and over again, I questioned myself and the world around me.

And let me be clear: none of this is weakness. I don’t want to be seen as a victim, and I’m not looking for pity. What I do want is for difficult topics to be spoken about — openly, honestly, without shame or whispers. Understanding is far more important than sympathy. We are not just the bright sides of ourselves. The darker parts matter just as much. Together, they make us whole. Together, they make me me.

I’m naturally shy, but once you get to know me, I begin to bloom. I love striking up conversations with strangers — simply because something in them draws me in. Curiosity for stories is my compass.

I don’t let people in easily, but once they’re in my life, they tend to stay. Even if I don’t see or speak to someone for years, or they live halfway across the world — the bond remains. They inspire me, make me wonder, and help me grow.

I feel most at home around people who are honest, caring, who chase their dreams, who are creative and unapologetically themselves — people who don’t let the judgment of others dim their light. People with energy, with fire in their eyes — that’s where I belong.

My mind rarely stands still (except during my darker moments), and I have an insatiable hunger to learn, feel, and discover. When something creative grabs me — something that touches me deeply — I don’t let go. I lose myself completely in writing, painting, drawing, or photography. Sometimes I even forget to eat or sleep. That depth of immersion? It’s gold to me.

I’m a perfectionist to the core. I hate failing and I give everything I’ve got. Half-hearted isn’t in my nature. What you see is what you get — raw, real, heart and soul.

You can’t put me in a box. My circle of friends is like me: diverse, colorful, and unique. I get lost in bookstores and libraries, love to walk far and long, have been writing since childhood, analyze music as if it were poetry, and fall in love just as easily with old classics as with new series.

And my father deserves his space here too. In my younger years, we had our challenges — but we worked through them, and I feel that deeply. In recent years, he’s become more present and involved in my life. We don’t always think alike, but he’s consistently kind, open, and non-judgmental. I cherish that.

Want to know more about me? Feel free to explore my site. I am an onion with many layers — and with every one you peel, you’ll find truth, contrast, depth, and tenderness. Every part matters. Every shadow has its light. This, all of it, is me.