The Courage to Dream

Patrick was born and raised in Brussels. People who meet this calm, gentle man are often surprised to learn what an athlete he was. When he was a teenager, his uncle introduced him to rowing, and Patrick put all his strength into it. At seventeen, he was travelling to Yugoslavia to race for Belgium.

Patrick as a boy

His heart, though, was already somewhere else. Since he was a little boy, he had carried one very precise dream: to live in South America. In Colombia, to be exact.

Getting there took nerve. He studied photography, graduated, and learned electronics. Then one day, he packed up his life and crossed the Atlantic.

He came to Colombia to stay. He became a cartographer, mapping land across the country and later in Mexico, and made his life between South and North America. He followed his compass all the way, and freedom like that takes real courage.

Always climbingAlways busy with his handsBuilding, from the start

Medellín, his home

Cartagena, November 2024

Today, Patrick lives in Medellín, and Colombia is simply home. The boy who dreamed of this country from Brussels now lives in it every day: the mountains, the eternal spring, the gardens, the colours of Cartagena when we travel to the coast. He has made our traditions his own, and our family has adopted him in return.

Belgian by birth and Colombian at heart, he moves between the two cultures with ease. In July 2024, he took my mother and me to discover his Belgium: Brussels, Bruges, the countryside and the North Sea coast. In Colombia, it is our turn to share ours with him.

With him, our family spans three countries. My mother and I were born in Colombia, I live in France, and Patrick brings Belgium to the table. Affrenchy was born at this crossroads: a Colombian dermatologist, her daughter in Paris and a Belgian who made Medellín his home. Our three cultures enrich everything we create.

“Life goes on”

Ask Patrick about his life and he will talk about dreams rather than job titles. The rower, the photographer and the cartographer come up almost in passing. What he tells you about is the dreams he dared to chase, and the man he tried to remain along the way.

One day, I asked him whether he regretted leaving Europe to follow such an unusual path. I expected the classic line about having no regrets. His answer was far more honest. Everyone makes mistakes, he told me, and everyone has regrets. What counts is owning your choices, taking responsibility for them, moving forward, and deciding to be happy. “Life goes on,” he says, and it is up to us to live it fully.

Life goes on, and it is up to us to live it fully.

And you, which dream did you dare to follow?

At Affrenchy, we live by my grandmother Clarita’s motto: sublimer plutôt que masquer, to enhance rather than to hide. Patrick lives by it without even thinking about it, and he has always encouraged it in the woman he loves.

For years, my mother had her roots dyed every two weeks to cover her grey. It was painful, and it was endless. When she chose to let her natural colour come back, Patrick became her greatest admirer. “I know society sometimes puts more pressure on women,” he says. “That’s why I’m so happy my partner stopped colouring her hair every two weeks.” When he sees a woman wearing her white hair naturally, he puts it simply: “I find it incredibly beautiful.”

To him, she has never been more beautiful than she is today: healthy, glowing and completely herself.

To him, she has never been more beautiful than she is today.

The beard of Papa Noel

Patrick and my mother, Medellín, November 2026

He treats his own age with the same respect. “I’m 66,” he says, “and for me, a white beard is simply the natural course of life. In my head, I’m still young.” He wears his years openly, and he looks after his beard carefully so that it stays a bright, snowy white and never turns yellow.

For him, this is where authenticity begins. “Hiding your features means losing your authenticity. You have to accept the changes in your body, and love them.”

Hiding your features means losing your authenticity.

With his height, his strength and that beard, he says people treat him with a certain reverence. “I feel like Papa Noel,” he laughs. The truth is simpler: he is a very handsome man, and his elegance comes from being fully himself at this point in his life.

And you, who was the first to tell you that your silver hair suited you?

When I watch my mother with Patrick, I see a woman in love. She loves him deeply, and she also respects and admires him. All three at once is rarer than people think.

They make a wonderful couple. My mother is energy, plans and five o’clock alarms. Patrick is calm and patience. Each brings what the other needs, so naturally that I sometimes think they were simply meant to meet. Soulmates, if you like.

With Apolo, Antioquia, August 2023

What he taught her

My mother told me recently how much Patrick has given her. Above all, he taught her to stay calm. To let go of whatever lies outside our control. To keep living day by day, with a smile.

For a woman who spent more than twenty years in the Navy, where every hour is planned, that is quite a lesson. I see it in her now. She laughs more easily, she gives herself time, and she takes each day as it comes.

As a dermatologist, my mother knows how clearly stress shows on the skin and the scalp. In our last issue, she compared it to a siren that rings all day long, and her advice was to turn down the volume. Patrick turns it down for all of us. Calm is good for the heart, and in our family, we have learned that it shows on the face too.

Stay calm, let go of what you cannot control, and live each day with a smile.

Seeing my mother happy

As a daughter, few things make me happier than seeing my mother in love and at peace. I feel it every time I am with them, on a balcony in Medellín, on a café terrace or in the streets of Bruges. I am happy for her, and grateful to him.

Bruges, July 2024The Belgian countryside, July 2024

And you, what has love taught you lately?

People like to say that blended families are complicated. Ours is quite the opposite. At home, I rarely call him Patrick. I call him Mr Patrick.

The nickname comes from Alicita, our beloved family nanny, whose own incredible story you will read in our next issue. For Alicita, any gentleman from abroad is automatically el míster. Hearing her call this tall Belgian el míster made me laugh, and the name stuck. “Hey, Mr Patrick,” I say when I call him to talk through a new idea. It is a playful name, and there is a lot of affection in it.

The three of us, Medellín

I know who my father is, and I love him. But family is more than blood. It is made of vínculos, the bonds of the heart that we choose and look after over the years. I am deeply grateful to my mother for bringing such a good and honest man into our lives, and to Patrick for the bond we have built together.

Mr Patrick and me, Bruges, July 2024

The family crew

That bond now extends to our work, and working together as a family is one of my greatest joys. The three of us make a small crew. My mother is our president: the doctor, the scientific mind, the visionary. I am the strategist, in charge of marketing, sales and storytelling. Mr Patrick is our administrator, the steady hand who keeps our numbers in order. As in rowing, each of us has a seat in the boat, and we all pull to the same rhythm. We are different in so many ways, and those differences are exactly what make us work so well together.

We are different in so many ways, and that is exactly what makes us work.

When I look at Mr Patrick, I see the spirit of Affrenchy. He is calm and kind, and behind all his wisdom, his spirit has stayed young. If I could keep one thing as I grow older, it would be my own freedom, and the courage to follow my dreams with the same elegance as the boy from Brussels who drew his own map of the world.

And you, who belongs to the family you chose?