In the village, you don't need to prove yourself. People know your family, they watched you grow up, they understand the context of who you are.

It's this constant whisper in my head that tells me I'm not funny enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not interesting enough.

This is the time when you especially want to feel care, romance, and attention for yourself and your daughter!

💖💖💖Honestly and simply about what is important to me in a relationship and how I like to live.💖💖💖

New Year's is that time when even the most serious people suddenly begin to believe in miracles. We decorate the house, put up the tree, light the lights, and stop for a few minutes to ask ourselves what we really want.

I think about how strange and wonderful life is: one year is ending, another is just beginning, and we have a chance to change everything.

I always loved snow, a new year without snow is not the same atmosphere. Snow is always an addition to a good mood.❄️🎄

I'm just honest about different things. I'm honest about my doubts and my exhaustion and my refusal to perform. But I'm deeply, deliberately dishonest about other things.

My nature is to nurture. I like making things beautiful. I like taking care of people. I like thinking about their comfort and their happiness. This isn't because I was forced into it—it's genuinely who I am. But lately I've been wondering if I'm using this as an excuse to disappear.

Knowledge is what you get from books and learning and other people's ideas. I have a lot of knowledge. I read theology.

I can feel it happening every time. The first few days in the city are fine—I'm strong, I'm grounded, I remember myself. But then the weeks pass and the noise gets louder and somewhere inside me something starts to dissolve.

Everyone talks about being brave like it's something big and dramatic—like standing up to someone important or doing something that scares you.

Dark, cold evenings are my time. A time when I can disconnect from the hustle and bustle and create my own little, perfectly warm world. I have a whole set of rituals for this. First, there's the light. I immediately turn off the overhead chandelier. I turn on the fairy lights, place a thick vanilla- or pine-scented candle on the table, and turn on a small floor lamp with a warm yellow glow.

I decided to celebrate New Year's at home, alone, with pizza and TV shows. Everything was going perfectly until I remembered to take out the trash. At 11:50 PM. In the entryway. In complete silence.

I'd been living in this apartment for three years now and knew almost nothing about my neighbor. Only sounds - footsteps in the morning, soft music in the evening, and her polite "hello" in the elevator. No names, no conversations. Just a person behind the wall.

She hadn't planned anything special for this New Year. No noisy company, no list of "Monday" resolutions, and no fireworks until the morning. Just a quiet evening, garlands hanging on the window, and tea that was cooling too quickly.

Sometimes home is not walls, but something much more, right? Not an address. And not even the keys in the bag.

Shop windows are flashing, people are running somewhere, and I catch myself thinking, I don't want it to be faster, but warmer. Is it the same with you?

(What will it be like, New Year's?)

(What does the new year have in store for us?)