Everything screams about the external now. The angle of the camera, the filter, the pouting lips, the perfect light. We mold ourselves for other people's eyes, like a display case in a store: "Look, I'm like this. Take me from the shelf!" But inside, there is silence. A real woman is not in pixels. She is in the feeling. ✨

Sometimes you just live. You don’t expect miracles, you don’t make plans, you don’t look beyond the horizon. Day after day the usual routine, like background music in the elevator. And suddenly, as if by chance, you bump into someone... and the world pauses. Everything inside freezes, as if time has stopped for a second ⏳💫

Femininity is not the length of a dress, not the curve of a waist, or Hollywood diva-style makeup. It is something that is felt. Something that cannot be put on, taken off, or faked. It is an energy that envelops and remains in the air, even when the woman has already left ✨

Sometimes something flares up inside that you can't name. Not fear. Not sadness. Not loneliness. But rather a wild, inexplicable thirst... to truly live. To feel every emotion to your fingertips ✨ To be not just "convenient", but real - with your desires, weaknesses, with this pulsating spark inside 🔥

When you're stuck in traffic and start questioning everything.

I came for milk. I stayed for memories.

Today I want to talk about how important it is to live in the present moment.

Today I want to talk about a motto in life.

Today I want to share my thoughts on what it means to meet a soulmate.

Or are we all just pretending to know, switching between “be yourself” and “don't be too much yourself”?

🩷 When I first read the news that Pope Francis had officially allowed women to become permanent altar servers and participate in decision-making at the local level, something inside me froze. I don't know how to describe this feeling exactly — something between joy, slight excitement, and even a little anxiety.

😘Sorry for writing so much, maybe you are tired of reading?

Today I want to share an interesting story about this dessert and its original recipe. This dessert was created by Auguste Escoffier in honor of opera diva Nelly Melba.

Today I want to share with you my story about how I started running and fell in love with it. I hope my experience will inspire you to new sporting achievements.

A memory of a failed attempt at baking a pie that turned into something more — acceptance, laughter, and a new tradition.

Random things turn into personal heirlooms. About secret signs inside novels, about the smell of old paper and non-random bookmarks.

About what it's like to be a night person not by choice, but from thoughts. How the city is silent at three in the morning, why the refrigerator becomes a friend, and where to find peace if the brain is not a switch.

How a regular walk on a sunny day can turn your internal dialogue upside down. Unexpected encounters, random thoughts, and returning home with the feeling that you are a little closer to yourself.

Juneteenth, June 19, is more than just a date. It is a day when America remembers one of the most important moments in its history: the final emancipation of enslaved African Americans after the Civil War. The holiday symbolizes long-awaited freedom, recognition of rights, and the fight for equality - a fight that continues today

I’ve learned something the hard way: everyone has an opinion, especially when it comes to your love life. 🙄 They’ll tell you he’s not good enough. Or that you’re too much. Or not enough. Or that it’s too soon, too late, too complicated.