Three Homes Before
What I had and didn’t know
In 2021 I let my whimsical self play outside.
I was experimenting. Wearing pink and orange. Lace lingerie and silky dresses. Coloring my hair blonde and my lips red – well, yours truly should keep some all-time classic.
My Georgian roots called me home, and I found my happy place on the other side of the planet.
I was paragliding in Svaneti. I landed in a puddle of mud. Happy. Free. With happy tears on my cheeks. Feeling like the entire world just gave me a huge, so long needed hug.
And now I realize – ryssians stole that from me too. Bastards.
So yes. 2021 was three homes before. Ouch.
I saw storms while hiking mountains. Screamed into the might of them. Embraced it all. Romanticized every moment, made love with it, savoured it as long as humanly possible. Human limitations.
I was hot as hell and shy as hell – not by choice, more bullied into that state. Yet, I started discovering my bossy-as-fuck essence, and weaving it into my soft-as-kitten nature finally worked out nicely. Growth!
I put together the studio I’d dreamt of. Sang and practiced every day, everywhere. Recorded over and over, fine-tuning, doing singing homework in bed, practicing with passion – obsession, even. And while I recorded demos, I tamed demons, fought my imposter, and wrote some beats.
I spent hours in meditation, searching for something to lean on. It would help me tons when I woke up in 2022.
I cuddled with Puma a lot. I took Louna in and the next day she scratched my face to blood, five minutes before the meeting. We were learning to live together. To coexist in our little pride. We succeeded eventually and became a small family of three, and I became a mother of dragons. They were my Toothless and my Psycho, and I love them both, wherever they are now.
I danced till morning with my bestie on the island.
I was building my first genuinely-mine home. Where the scents were mine. The linens were mine. Those walls and ceiling were mine and mine only.
And yes – to support my extravagant lifestyle, yours truly was working two jobs. Yay me. Not doing that again.
So that hard, oh so hard 2021 was, in fact, a huge blessing. I love every moment of it. Wouldn’t change a second.
And to that girl: my sweet summer child, hold on tight for whatever awaits you once you finally feel like your life is all put together. It will be one hell of a ride. You’ll hate it all. You’ll rebuild yourself from ashes several times. And however scared you’ll be, you’ll make it to 2026 and to your new home. Stay strong, baby girl. I know it’s hard. I didn’t wanna do it all either. But I managed to survive this. And so will you. I got you. Come here, let me give you a hug. And some courage. You’ll need it.