I don’t know when it started. But at some point I realized that more than anything in the world I love walking barefoot on cold tiles.

No, not to toughen up. And not because it’s hot. ☀️ It’s just that there’s a special pleasure in it — the moment when you step out of a hot shower, step on the smooth, cool tiles and suddenly feel: you’re alive.

It’s not a banal “frozen — warmed up.” It’s as if the body says: I exist, I feel, I’m awake. 🌸

At such moments, I don’t think about makeup, plans for the day, or the people I’m about to see. 👥 I think only about my feet. About how water drips from them onto the floor. How my hair slightly sticks to my shoulders. How warm and cold alternate with every second. ⏳

I can stand in a towel for 10 minutes, slowly. Listen to how water drips from the tap. Squeeze my toes. Then slowly apply oil to my shoulders, choose scents to suit my mood - sometimes citrus, sometimes lavender. 🪻

This is my morning. No music, no phone, no other people's voices. Just me, the air and the tiles.

And you know, in these moments I always smile. Because I love myself exactly like this. Just real. 🌿