We are still in Los Angeles (yes, not in real life of course, but I'm taking you along in the story) and I have been asked to give a teach about social media. Some girls scatter photos of themselves with cigarettes and drinks in a rather unflattering way and I have been asked to point out the importance of a well-filled account and a tidied timeline.

Funny enough, some of them (no, I won't name names, at least not today) get angry at me when I show the photos. Well, I printed them out and stuck them on a mood board, that might be a bit silly, but hey, we are making television and hey, you should have just not posted them on your social media.

After my little SM lesson (not to be confused with Christian Grey's hobby), I was asked to come back to this location in the evening. Not a punishment, as we were in one of those many Hollywood villas. A villa on a private resort that you reach by opening a gate armed with a password. A villa with a staircase out of a movie. A villa with a pool with curves. A villa without neighbors. A villa where you never want to leave.

’In the evening we were expected there. For a surprise. I immediately thought of a party. A bonding barbecue because after a week of hard work you need to eat, drink together, and jump into the pool with your clothes on. I decided to go for a run at our hotel (which I had been doing since I was in LA) and was on time at the destination in the evening. We had to wait for half an hour so I chatted with colleague Dirk who was quite flustered because I had bought Nikes and actually wore them.

The moment was there. We were led to the garden. All the girls were sitting together and we; Anouk, the jury, Freek from Touché Models, and Fred stood opposite them. “We are here because one of the girls has something important to tell...”, Fred spoke. Aha, so he knew. I immediately thought of illness in the family. Or maybe a pregnancy?

Loiza stood up. Even before she had said anything, she was already crying. “I am here because I want to tell you something. I may have had a slightly different childhood than most of you...”

You know what her story was by now. And if you have been living under a rock, you can here watch it. We cried, hugged, and decided to eat in a group. Anouk, her stylist Manon, Dirk, and I. What a story, was the phrase that rolled off our tongues like a mantra. “What does it matter if she is a boy or a girl?” said Dirk. “I don’t give a shit. She’s a cool kid, that’s what counts. Now give me a beer.” Then he turned to me. “I’m more in shock that you run. Have you gone crazy?”

That sentence brought me down to earth more than those two sneakers had done in the past few days. Thanks Dirk, and please pass me the wine. I could use a drink.