Life of Jules – an autobiography

Hello World,

This week in English, we have been working on a presentation about our life so far. I chose seven main points in my life, from the day I was born till now. I hope you enjoy learning a little bit more about me, and my life!

Life of Jules <— my presentation


I was born on a cold Friday the 26th of January. I was born on a hospital close to the capital city of Denmark, but it wasn’t easy. When I came out, I was 42 cm long, with a weight of only 1 ½ kg. I was born two months early, because my mum was getting very sick. When I came out, one of my lungs collapsed, and the other one was starting to. Today, it’s a big part of me, I have scars from the many operations I had, and my whole personality is build upon the fact that when I was just a few days hold, I lifted my head, and the doctor said “Don’t worry, she can make it. She is strong” a quote my mum and dad repeat when I feel like there is something I can’t do.


The best thing that has ever happened to me, was when my brother was born. He was born on the 1st of July 2003, making me 2 ½ years old. Like me, he was born at the same hospital, but at the right time. We are not far apart in age, which makes us nearly like best friends. Sometimes he is extremely annoying, but I’m happy he is here, because he is the best brother I could ask for.


My grandparents on my dad’s side, own an apartment in Engadin in Switzerland, when I lived in Denmark, my family came there once or twice a year, often to ski. The first time I was on skis, was when I was 3 years old. As you can see, I’m trying to keep my balance using my arms and my pink gloves. I have soon been skiing for over 11 years, and I love it. The feeling of control feels really good, and the feeling you get when you put the weight on your legs just right. When I was in 7th grade I joined the school’s ski team. I was the only girl, and even though I was nervous, and I wasn’t that good at racing yet, I enjoyed every second, and today, some of my best friends are from that time.


In August 2007, I started school in a town close to where our new house was. We had just moved from my childhood home, and moved to a town near by. But it was far enough for me to be in a different community, and away from the few people I knew in Kindergarten. When I started in school, I didn’t know anyone, and it was difficult getting to know people, because they weren’t very inclusive. I learned to read and write quickly, and after a year, I was at the top of my class. In Denmark, when you are above or below average, you are seen as a hassle, you are put on standby, until the others reach your level. I wanted to learn more, but it wasn’t going to happen. A few years after that, I started ballet. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t the kind of dancing I had imagined, it was too strict. I guess, I was quite a stereotypical girl, I did ballet, I was good at school and was well behaved, and though it might not seem relevant now, it caused a major change later.


Four years after I started school, in August 2011, I started school in Switzerland. The news of moving to Switzerland for a year were delivered, when I made a “surprise cake.” I called it this because it was a cake with berries but you couldn’t see the berries because of a layer of thin layer of cake on top. I was devastated, I cried myself to sleep many night in a row, until I realised that it was only for a year, and I started to see all the benefits I would get from it. I started at the Luzern in 5th grade, I had never  spoken english before, and all of a sudden, going from the best kid in the class to the kid who always had a teacher beside her, trying to explain what was happening. one year became two years, and two years became three years. We then accepted that we would just have to take a year at a time until we got tired of it. So far we haven’t, and I am expecting to finish school here at ISZL.


In 7th grade I moved to the Zug campus, and it took a while to get used to, but I really liked it after a while. Since I’m danish, I was invited to be in the Lucia festival, where I got closer to Nikoline. She is the only other danish 9th grader, and we are best friends. I enjoy every second with her, which is mostly spent in laughter. Many of my other friends are thanks to her, because she introduced them to me.


The last point in my life so far, was the 15th of August 2015. In Denmark, a religious celebration takes place when the person is around 15 years old. A confirmation. This is when the young person confirms their babtisment, but this is now nearly a part of the culture.
This was the Life of Jules so far, and I hope you enjoyed learning more about me. Thank you!






Hello World,


This is a draft for a possible story based on the theme of ‚escape.‘

I wear my hood over my head as I walk home from the bus stop. I pull the sleeves over my   hands as I shiver from the biting cold. I protect myself from the wind, the rain and the stares of people around me. Maybe they don’t see me and how I feel, but I see them, and their quick judgemental up-and-down look they so often give. My eyes might seem blank and directionless, but inside the blood in my veins is rushing through my body creating a distracting throb in the rhythm of my pulse. The voices I hear are all so distant, I gave up on listening to them years ago, because I know, that none of them are for  me.


I walk in my own daze, my own thoughts and my eyes on the ground. As if, I’m in a bubble, a cage of loneliness. The face that people have begged me to hide for as long as I can remember, is covered by my thin, brown hair. I’m bowing down, letting them step on me and letting their comments get to me, like they are feeding them to me with a spoon.


Once I would tell my mum everything, and all the feelings I couldn’t describe. She would wrap her arms around me, and pulled my head to her chest. Hearing her heart beat heavily made me feel like I was safe. But only for a moment, because of the vibrations of her voice telling me that it would all be okay. But it’s not. It is not all okay. And it never is, and it never will be.


I know it hurts her. I know her heart clenches when she sees the tears running down my pale cheeks. Tears she has no control over, tears she can do nothing about. Because I am not a child anymore. I don’t believe in the comfort of her kind but unknowing words. I know she feels as though she has failed. Failed to protect her child. I don’t want to give her that pain, but I have lost all power, all power outside the cage I am trapped in. As I grow older and the emotional pain gets worse, the cage gets smaller, and I can’t bear being in it.  


There is no one to blame. No one to point at. No one would ever hurt someone this much. No one would be so inhumane that the person feels no excitement doing anything. Because that is how I feel. I feel as though I’m just watching what’s happening around me. What is happening to me. Because it gets to me, but I don’t show it. And I don’t seem weak, but I am. Everyone is.


The weakness that I can’t let go, makes it harder to escape. And that is what I want. I want to escape. Escape from the sleepless cold nights and the looks people give me.
So that’s what I did. I escaped.

And that’s my story.