There are times you just have to put your brave on and do it.
I was 17, I finished the gymnasium and tailor education (6 days a week guys, no joke).
I was deadly in love for the first time (with the wrong man, unfortunately), so I left the sewing machine and got a work in a little juice/ conserve fabric in the kolkhoz (which stands for collective in post-Soviet Union).
The job was pretty fun: pumpkin juice with orange extract was the most delicious thing I knew and scrubbing horseradish was the best vaccine against everything .
There was some heavy lifting too – but that was piece of cake comparing pushing the heavy food/ sh*t loads in pig or cow farm where I used to help my mother.
Well, I must underline that not everything was shitty in soviet union (therefore I understand why the youth in Russia have star crush on Putin).
There were those cultural/ sports events.
I walked to school and back since I was six: 5 miles (3,5km) each way.
I liked the forest and knew every tree in it, however in the dark those same trees turned into a potential monster or were hiding one.
Yes, life is not always a strawberry cake – often far from that for many of us.
Terrible things happen, mistakes, bad choices.
We wish that those things never happened.
WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN THROUGH DOESN’T MAKE YOU UGLY.
No experience, no ” mistake” (mistake is just a part of a learning curve), being different and not being a “standard” or “normal” make you not good enough.
I became self-conscious about my looks early.
Being shamed at school for having lice, for spots on my uniform, and dirty nails.
A cake, white bread with cinnamon and raisins.
F*ck you! F*ck you! F*ck you! F*ck you!……..
I had never shown anyone this side of me.
Please, mummy, don’t become old, said, my daughter.
The clothes you wear and the way you groom yourself affects the way other people will see & hear you.
There are moments in life when we believe that everything is falling apart.
Life can be painful. Devastatingly so.
I was 22 and just went through a traumatic experience.
I told only my sister and few other involved knew about it.
I even didn’t consider going to the police – not only I didn’t trust it, I was also afraid of it.
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