nudity.slip

Shooting with

Added 2025-06-10 15:00:16 +0000 UTC

After a long journey — I’m finally home.

It feels strange to call Mexico “home” when I’ve only lived here a few months, don’t speak Spanish yet, and have no real routine — no favorite cafés, no gym, no familiar routes, no circle of local friends (except for my fiancé… though he probably doesn’t count, since he’s not Mexican either).

When the war began and I left for Spain, it took me a long time to feel like I belonged there. But eventually, it started to feel like home — once I built up all the little things that make a place yours: familiar streets, favorite spots, silent routines, people you know by name. When someone asked me where my home was, I never knew how to answer. Was it Kyiv? Barcelona? By then, I had started to feel like I had two homes — even though I never truly learned Spanish.

When I moved back to Kyiv and started traveling often, the feeling of home began to blur. I still said that home was Kyiv, but I no longer felt it in my body. At some point, my home started to fit inside a suitcase. And along with the roots, I lost the sense of protection, ease, and softness I’d always associated with being home.

And then Mexico appeared — and something shifted. Spain no longer felt like home. Kyiv didn’t either. Not because they became foreign, but because home isn’t geography. It’s something quiet and hard to name, something that sometimes finds you where you least expect it.

I don’t know why this place. I don’t know for how long. But right now — it feels like home. And I’ll try. I’ll keep trying. To stay open, to search, to find things I can love here. Not as a tourist — but as a resident of the place we chose.

P.S. About my jorney : my thoughts and my feelings I will tell you in next posts)