I have one secret weakness... No, not chocolate (although that too). Not shopping. Not love dramas for the evening. I love cleanliness. And not just love, but fanatically. With love. With respect. With a microfiber cloth in one hand and a spray bottle in the other.

The morning was promising. I put on a white shirt in the style of "country chic", a hat like a French girl on a picnic, and even took a wicker basket. Everything screamed: "I am a gentle girl picking berries for jam and Instagram!" Reality screamed louder: "Bend over one more time - and your back will go on vacation without you."

Strawberry. Just say this word - and it's as if your mouth is already sweet, and your head is filled with the sun, June, a wicker chair at the dacha and ringing laughter. There are products that we love just like that. And there are those that become a part of us. I honestly admit: I am a strawberry fan, and I am definitely not going to change my "berry faith".

Youth is beautiful.

Happiness is when you have somewhere to go on a bad day, and someone to sit with in silence when you don't feel like talking.

We are not lacking in male help — we are lacking in male depth, involvement, and presence.

Where is the fine line between “you are free” and “I don't really need you”?

If you remove the habit, will the warmth remain?

About how a glance, intonation, or a light touch can say more than any words 💌

I won't beat around the bush. The age difference can be both beautiful and complicated at the same time.

They want lightness, flirtation, touch, scents...

Sometimes I wonder: is it even useful?

A woman's fragrance is not just perfume.

Sometimes I just want to be a girl. The kind that someone sees not with their eyes, but with their heart.

When your heart is ripped out without anesthesia, and you still say, “It was real with you. Thank you.”

I was standing behind the client. He was new. Tall. Calm. It seemed like just hair, just extensions, just a technique - but my hands were shaking, as if I was not gluing a capsule, but feeling his pulse...

Do you know what feeling I adore? When you walk through spring Kyiv in a thin raincoat, in heels, and there are puddles on the asphalt.

Sometimes I wake up too early... when the city is still asleep, and my window is already embraced by the morning light. At such moments, I go to the kitchen, make coffee, sit on the windowsill - and start fantasizing. Not just dreaming, but living every frame...

Men, let's talk frankly. No, we are not looking for a "daddy". We are not expecting a gold card, a paid vacation and an apartment in the center in exchange for a photo in a swimsuit and a humble "yes, honey" 🏖️. We have a job. Quite stressful. With its deadlines, meetings, clients, children, sports, lack of sleep and the desire not to break down 😵‍💫.

Sometimes it seems that many men pass the peak of their lives by 33 - and that's it. Then - a shadow of their former greatness, memories of what they were like ... and the expectation that a woman will become their sponsor, savior, nanny, psychotherapist, muse and part-time cook. 🍲🛏️🧹