15/03/2026
Few days ago, my mom took me “on a date” to get a facial with our favourite beautician. As I laid there, ready to relax, she asked me about my life. As the question resounded in the room, my chest contracted and tears started streaming down my cheeks. “I have nothing to say about my life. I have no home, no job, and no partner.” It surprised me how much pain there’s still left in me, even tho, technically, I asked for all of it.
The rest of the procedure was us being in silence with her wiping away the streams of salty water from my face. She held me, without needing to fix me, without making me uncomfortable for my state. I thought I was coming for a facial but I left with something much more precious. The feeling of being fully welcomed.
Her daughter said something that stuck. She said: now, it’s time to get back up. So here I am, on my way back to Prague, willing to do what it takes to live a life that is mine. Life that is true. Not conditioned. Not fated. Chosen. Built. Cherished.
Please, send a little prayer to your girl who messed up a bit while fighting for what she believed she wanted.
