As I only met Anja in her later years, much of what follows is scant and may possibly be incorrect. I add here, only what I know from conversations with Anja herself, but will endeavour to update and add more information should anyone reading this site, be able to provide more detailed and accurate details. Additionally, I do not apologise for any content which may upset certain readers, as I know in my heart Anja would have wanted me to tell the truth as she told it to me and to not ‘pull my punches’ as far as the truth is concerned.

Anja was born in Noordwijk Binnen [Netherlands] on the 21st day of July, 1960 to her parents. Tini and Jaap van Doorn. The first of four children, Anja had a passion for horses and often said to me that some of the best moments in her life were those times when she could just be with her horses and get away from the stress that her home life brought upon her. It is sad to say, but Anja was not very close to her mother and as the years rolled by, she began to dislike her more and more. She felt that her mother was mean, abusive and failed to show her the love and affection that a mother should to her children. Her mother continually told Anja she was worthless, pathetic and she wished she had never been born. Apart from the emotional abuse, she was also very abusive physically, often hitting Anja for no other reason than to release her own frustrations. At the young age of 12, Tini left Japp and the children behind and started life with a new man. Anja then took on the role of counsellor to her father, mother to her brothers and sister and her normal schooling and teenage life was forever influenced as a result of this situation. Her father was a heavy drinker at this period in Anja’s life and she felt that she had no choice but to take on the role of responsibility as a mother and carer to her siblings – a task she enjoyed, but at a severe cost to her own well being. On a positive note, Anja spoke to me many times of her grandparents on her father’s side, whom she obviously loved very much and she greatly valued their love and support for her.

After Anja died, I found many messages left to me, some on the computer, some handwritten. Here is an extract from one of her notes telling me about her feelings on her choices as a mother. [Anja struggled with her English writing at times and as the cancer took over, she very much struggled to write at all. I have left this note verbatim as it shows exactly how Anja felt right up to her dying day.]

I had a mother who hates me and I hate my mother for it. She was so hard for me. I had such a fear for my mother….I never want to be like that…..
But…to be a soft and nice mother is not good too..but I am who I am and I still believe in be soft and nice I can not change my charackter its not in me to be hard…

On an interesting note, when I met Anja in 2000 she was living on a street called Katwijksestraat in Noordwijk, in a fairly run down house but made very much into a home because of Anja’s unique touch at decorating and the ability to make any abode beautiful, cosy and ‘home sweet home’. She was born only two houses down on the same street and although she had moved around in her life, this was her last place of residence in the Netherlands. And just to make this even more ‘coincidental’, when Anja had moved to the UK with me and she kept in touch with her sister, Monique, she discovered later than Monique had moved into the same house.

Anja’s teen years were very much stolen from her because of her role as mother to her siblings, but she spent many hours with her horses and tended to have few human friends. Her passion in music was deep heavy metal and when I met Anja she had hundreds and hundreds of CD’s all pretty much of the same genre. It always surprised me to see her playing her electric and acoustic guitars in such a fashion as she belted out the tunes and vibes that heavy metal contains. ACDC, Tool, Danzig, Fear Factory and a huge list of others, were at the forefront of Anja’s musical tastes. Throughout our years together in the UK, it was not unusual to have Rammstein belting out in our car at full volume as we drove through the Dales and Lakes Districts. Her musical tastes did alter slightly when I introduced her to such music as Delirium, Celtic instrumentals and Enimga/Enya and the like, but to be honest she never lost her passion for her original teenager choices.

When Anja and I spoke of our childhood together, she never spoke of many happy times. She hated school, was teased by many children because her family’s poverty meant she did not wear fashionable clothes, and even to the day that Anja passed away, she was a ‘tomboy’, fiercely independent and never liked the typical ‘girlie’ things in life. She would much rather wear her favourite Doc Martins than anything remotely feminine and this was the case with all of her clothing and outlook on fashion.

Anja’s childhood, as is the case with all of us in this world, very much molded her into the adult she grew up to be.