Last night was a very emotional one. And left me with many polarized feelings, which my mind is still processing. Chapter one started in Zocalo, the downtown of Mexico City. Viva, Mexico! 🇲🇽 Feliz Día de la Independencia! I nearly cried at one point, feeling so grateful to experience the energy of this celebration, watching the performance of Mariachi Band, and listening to the president’s speech. The unity of people, the fireworks right above our heads and the flag of Mexico, that was so powerful. Fantastic organization, too, with no alcohol, no cigarettes, no trash, no bad crowding, no accidents. I am so happy to be here, in Mexico, and to be busy building a new chapter of my life around me. I went with 2 people, one is a friend of mine, a Russian lady, and the other one is a friend of hers, a half Russian-half Ukrainian man, they are both in their 50’s. Somehow after the fireworks, and (that was a poor decision) also after 2 beers in a little bar next to home the conversation hit the topic of Russian-Ukrainian relationships. And it’s the first time I’ve heard from a real person sitting next to me, and not from an impersonal Instagram nickname, so many hateful words about my Motherland. His Motherland (by 50%) as well - but as he said, he destroyed that part of himself in his heart. Orks, terrorists, Russians should not exist as a nation... wow. Really? So, my teenager niece (and thousands of children in Russia) don’t deserve to exist, because they were born on a specific territory? All of the history of previous generations, which includes my loving parents and grandparents, should be obliterated just because the current politician of great power and debatable sanity has president’s title? Russia is my Motherland. It’s an unmodifiable fact of my life. My parents were Russian, my grandparents and great great parents too. I am not ashamed to remain a Russian outside of the country, and my heart is CRYING, watching what’s happening on our territory. 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻