I'm thrilled to be heading to the Eurovision Song Contest! As a devoted fan, this is a dream come true—though not quite as a performer like Celine Dion or Duncan Laurence representing the Netherlands. My path is a unique one, born from years of passion.
Table of contents
My love for the Eurovision Song Contest began decades ago. In my pajamas, I'd watch snippets on TV, mesmerized by the spectacle: countries performing heartfelt songs in their native languages, glamorous outfits, a live orchestra, and Willem van Beusekom's commentary. It captivated me—this was the stage I dreamed of one day.
With a childhood friend, we vowed to compete together someday. I was training in jazz ballet and confident I'd master singing. At nearly 12, Frizzle Sizzle's energetic, barefoot performance sealed it: I could envision myself dancing and singing on that grand stage.
As we grew, paths diverged, but Eurovision remained our bond. She's a talented musician; my skills, however, only emerged after a glass of wine—and faded sober. Backing vocals? Unlikely. My route to Eurovision needed a different path.
National prelims were thrilling, though beyond my reach. I've stayed a loyal fan, cheering the Netherlands, debating votes, and loving the drama. Every year, it's unmissable.
Not an expert on winners or entrants, I relish the event's magic. Recently, my childhood friend invited me to the Grand Final family show on May 22. She'd secured priority tickets after 2020's cancellation due to COVID-19.
I hesitated—prior plans and pandemic caution lingered after a year of restrictions. Yet, COVID taught me to seize moments. This 'once-in-a-lifetime' chance won out; I eagerly accepted if tickets came through.
On May 6, she called: tickets secured! I did my 'Emma Wortelboertje' happy dance. We're off to Eurovision from Brabant, joining two friends (row five!😊). Added to their enthusiastic app group, the excitement is infectious.
From Brabant on May 22, our group's Eurovision passion amplifies mine.
Nerves mix with anticipation—a negative COVID test 24 hours prior (and five days after) is required for this Fieldlab event. A positive would shatter the dream.
Until then, I practice at home, belting favorites, turning my living room into a stage—wine bottle as mic. It's my personal Eurovision moment.
