Originally published in July 5, 2025 on Substack
Yesterday, I was completely naive.
I wrote to you as if this was just another Independence Day. As if it was simply a moment to gather, grill, watch fireworks, and feel proud.
As if that monster in the White House was just another bump in the road that you will pass and never remember again.
I ignored that many of you are feeling that your flag no longer feels like home.
I saw your comments. I felt your grief and your rage rising off the screen.
So many of you spoke of hanging your flag upside down, or hiding it away completely. Others spoke of tears, of not recognizing the land you love, and so on…
And I, look how silly, this Ukrainian who so often comes talking, talking, and filling your inboxes with pledges for empathy, at the time that it was my turn to express my empathy with you, guess, I failed miserably.
Miserably.
Here:
.
Tomorrow, Don’t Let Them Steal Your Celebration
.
Especially because I come to Substack every day to say that our fights are the same and I want to make to make a moral contribution from far away, having even started a separate journal to talk about that in particular and express my commitment.
It’s so “comfortable” and “beautiful” from my part to say that I am a part of your fight with you and remain looking at your symbols when I needed to be looking at your soul and your pain.
I am completely ashamed of telling you to find a reason to celebrate, to make a day meant to “unite” you.
But life goes on and apologies will not bring what we need.

Let’s take things straight and forget this silly dream of a perfect world where everyone is kind and good.
These are times when some people in power are going to unprecedented levels to destroy the fabric of your society and our civilization.
To hell with union and celebrations.
Celebrations of any kind.
Today is a funeral for the illusions you were taught to hold dear.
You are not imagining it. You are not hysterical. You are not unpatriotic.
You are awake.
You feel it in your gut, that rotting stench in the air, that sense that your country has been stripped and being sold off like cheap meat in a market.
And I had the audacity to say in the subtitle of that article that there was something “special” waiting for you today in America. The same day that beast in the White House defiles your Independence Day to push through another poison bill down your throat.

I went to sleep dreaming of Americans gathering under fireworks, thinking my naive words might stitch you back together for one day. And just three hours later, I woke to Kyiv in flames. Hundreds of photos of my capital burning while I was writing fairy tales.
At the time I was thinking about fireworks, Russia was working fire against Ukrainian children and innocents of all ages in one of the more cruel attacks since the start of this nightmare.
Russia was setting our children on fire while I was speaking to the world about sparklers.

As I watched those images, I hated myself for every soft word I wrote yesterday.

But I will not take that article down. Let it stand there as a tombstone for my naivety. A reminder that there is no room for softness when monsters are in power.

I spit on my own softness. No more candles, only torches.
Only flames that burn through the lies.
They want you smiling while they stab your chest. They want you clapping while they piss on what you once held sacred. While he calls himself a king and his followers worship it like dogs at the altar.
They want flags to hide the blood on their hands.
Fireworks to cover the sound of rights being buried.

From a country where every sunrise feels like a miracle,I tell you that your refusal is the purest act of patriotism left.
When you refuse to celebrate, you are showing that the American soul still lives.
When you refuse to wave the flag, you are claiming it back.
They will never be able to steal your dignity and they cannot force you to dance as they pour gasoline over your future.
America today is the one you still carry inside you, in the scars and the decency that refuses to die.
If your flag feels foreign today, feel free to take mine. The blue and yellow is not just Ukraine, it belongs to you and every citizen who refuses to kneel.
You have already carried Ukraine so many times, seen us, shared your empathy so powerfully. Now it’s my turn to stand with you.
To put myself in your shoes, as you like to say.

I know what it means to feel your future collapsing in front of your eyes.
I am with you. And I’m done being gentle.
Take your place beside me.
We are not here to toast the corpse of freedom, but to fight for its resurrection.
I see you, and I will never ask you to decorate the line again.
You are the line.
And you are absolutely right to hold it.
And you’re not holding it alone. We are many. We are still here.
I’m not here to comfort you.
I’m here to scream beside you.
Until our bones have no doubt what freedom feels like.
🇺🇦
