The Story Behind My Favorite Teacup
— A Souvenir from Copenhagen, A Keepsake from My Becoming We buy souvenirs to remember places. But sometimes, the simplest ones don’t just remind us of where we’ve been — they remind us of who we were becoming at the time. That’s what my Copenhagen mug and Queen solider are to me. It’s not fancy. It’s not a limited edition or anything that would stop someone scrolling online. But they are my favorite souvenirs in the world. Because they hold more than what you think — they hold a version of me I never want to forget . Copenhagen wasn’t just a trip — it was a turning point I got these souvenirs on an afternoon during the closing of the event, while reflecting and sharing positive impressions about everyone in the room. It was a gift from my Danish partner during this exchange. The air smelled like fresh pastries and crisp winter. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. But when I saw it — a soft white ceramic with a clean, simple design — something in me whispered, “This is my favorite coffee mug. I’ll need it.” And the "Queen Solider" was an addition to my office desk since this trip, reminding me of how naive you become in the middle of the new cultures. Where the solider was willing to shoot me, because I was playing with the security hours which is forbidden. But when he knew that I am a tourist with no legal clue, he smiled slowly & invited me to take a near picture. I didn’t know it then, but that mug & solider would become a little anchor in the stormy seasons that followed. Every time I held it back home, it brought me back to the version of myself I found in Copenhagen : curious, pausing slowly for once, and staying true to myself. More than a mug It became a ritual. Coffee in that mug meant something different. It wasn’t just caffeine — it was a breath. A pause. A promise to hold space for myself, like I did in that city during this trip. A reminder that I don’t have to earn rest. Or joy. Or beauty. The solider stood on my desk while I worked through self-doubt. Sat beside me while I journaled my way out of heartbreak. Showed up like a quiet friend, whispering: You’ve been here before. Being naive & not knowing. You found peace before. You can find it again. Mugs don’t heal people. But they hold the moments that do. What I love most is that it’s a mug that I have received as a gift from a dear friend that I am waiting for our roads to cross again. Not a hand-me-down. Not something trendy or performative. It was chosen in solitude. In stillness. In softness. It marked the first time I gave myself permission to simply exist — without overthinking, overexplaining, or overdoing. Even without any titles or jobs to define me, as I was going through a lay-off from my first job out of university. And now? It’s a piece of Copenhagen that lives with me — even on chaotic days when I’m nowhere near that peaceful canal or that girl who wandered freely between bakeries. It is a reminder, that I can be hesitant in peace. A reminder to stay assured, trusting Allah's plan. So yeah... it’s just a teacup or a solider — but also everything. So, here’s to the little things we carry — not just because they’re cute or functional — but because they witnessed us becoming. Now you tell me: What’s your Copenhagen mug? That one object that holds more than it shows. Let’s talk about it — over tea or coffee, of course. Do you have a favorite item with a memory behind it? Slide into the comments — I’d love to hear your story.
