I grew up strong. How does one measure strength? For a long time, I thought I was strong because I did not talk about things that made me sad. When war came to my house - I immediately took my strong armour and went out. To work. I thought that by working hard, I would protect what I love from the darkness that was spreading around. I learned that from my parents who worked hard to provide for the family, as our Homeland gained Independence, and I was born just a few weeks after that.
Some years in, I find myself torn apart between work and war. But where is la dolce vita?
The world around me seems to be moving, but my life seems to be hit on pause. Words ring in my head, but nothing comes out of my mouth. [Yes, I know, I am a bore, sorry to ruin the party, but there is an army, and it’s tearing my city to the bone. But oh no, of course, it’s ok, everything is ok. Let’s keep the party rolling, as we need to live. It’s just some of us might not know how to leave, or exit the walls of permanent pain. And oh no, I don’t complain, because only weak complain.] I am listening to a performance. I couldn’t bear the sound of a minor that was coming from the stage, but I wanted to listen till the end. I had hoped that the minor would get into a major, because one can always turn negative into positive, if one works hard, right? It didn’t change. Turns out, that night, I needed to hear just that to understand something about myself. I am slowly drowning in my own pain. Personally, I avoid expressing it. I thought that’s how I showed my strength, but it turns out, that’s how I have built a wall between myself and life itself.
A week later, I learned that it is ok to cry in public. Turns out collective pain can be cured only by a collective action. For that to happen one needs to show up and say: today, I miss life. There is nothing else to add. The major will follow after that, when strangers and friends will hug you, and thank you for your work. In the end, work might be able to help cure pain, one just needs to have time and space to identify it, welcome it, and name it. That is why I show up to write this text. Turns out to live - la dolce vita - I need to know how to talk about pain, to make my way to the major of my life’s song, today.
07.05.2025, Berlin
Vasylysa Shchogoleva
P.S. This text was published in "Wie wir trauen" book by Rebound in Berlin.
Photo by the author. Depicting the copy of the "Wie wir trauen" publication with the author's writing and art-work on the left-hand-side during the reading evening at the Kiezkapelle Neukölln