(Day 66/122 of the experiment)
Yes, so far I am completely failing at intellectual hobbies. While I enjoy singing and dancing, I won't be going to the literary club meeting again. Yesterday, as I was getting ready to go, I hoped to join a company of women smarter than me. But on my way home, I realized that the main purpose of the club is not to discuss books, but simply to spend time in female company. That's not bad. It's just that I have friends whose conversations are much more pleasant and soulful, which is why KropChit is not for me.
I arranged to meet in the evening with Daryna – the very journalist who supported my admiration for Max Kidruk's book yesterday. So I postponed my training to the afternoon – to head straight to the meeting afterwards. Fortunately, there are clean showers in the gym where I can even wash my hair after an intense workout.
It's interesting how the Universe brings people together. It turns out Daryna has been following my Instagram for a long time and is keeping an eye on the experiment. Moreover, she is not just a journalist for the local newspaper but also a video blogger. She has around one hundred thousand subscribers on her YouTube channel. She interviews women from the big city and showcases women's lives without embellishments. The main aim of her work is to show women that they can be happy even after a divorce, after losing a job, and even during a terminal illness. My admiration for this person grew even stronger when I learned about her YouTube channel. And most importantly – Daryna is not ashamed to share her own story. Her husband left her when their son was two months old. At that time, far from home (Daryna was born in the city of Haisyn in Kirovohrad region, 230 km from the big city, where her parents live), she found the strength to keep going. She got a job at a gas station, spent the days with her child, and worked at night. Little by little, she started to earn money, and then found a job in her field when Marko (her son) began attending kindergarten.
I returned home in a state of awe and shock. What trials tender and fragile women face. Some are left alone with a small child, some without money, and some even without a roof over their heads. But the one thing that distinguishes each story from another is the actions each woman takes. Some give up and start drinking, while others take the horseshoe and nail it to their feet. And day by day, the horseshoe that helps them plow turns into a symbol of luck.
I wrote a huge post on Instagram, had a little discussion with my followers in the comments, and went to bed.
(Day 67/122 of the experiment)
Listening to my heart rather than common sense, today I signed up for a bachata class. Yes, yes, I recently denied that I would ever go to a class for these romantic and even sensual dances, just to avoid embarrassment. But “nothing ventured, nothing gained.” By the way, there will be champagne too – I’m meeting Nick for a friendly get-together in the evening.
A run, hugs with Richard, meditating on happiness and positivity, a facial massage, a dry brushing session for body firmness, and I'm ready to conquer this world! I've noticed that I’m becoming more self-confident every day. I'm coming to the conclusion that confidence is synonymous with the word “self-discipline.” How does it work?
First, you decide what you would like to do – work out, go to yoga, get a manicure, and so on. The first stage is denial. This is most evident in typical situations – for example, you decide not to drink alcohol. Then in the evening, a friend suggests skipping a couple of glasses of bubbly. And the first thought in your head is, “I’m living fine. Well, I’ll drink a little champagne; what’s the harm in that?” And if you make a deal with your conscience – that’s it, there will be no result. Because, if you think about it, you're living quite well – you have arms and legs, food in the fridge too. So what if deep down you’re utterly unhappy? “That’s how everyone lives.” If at the first stage, the deal with your conscience doesn’t work, we move to the second stage – the stage of habituation. Through pain, sweat, and tears (which can be both physical and emotional), you diligently get used to a new habit. Just like with my morning awakenings – in the beginning, I absolutely hated mornings. It was torment for me, and every morning I envied my cat, who can wake up at 11 a.m. with no one saying anything to him. Then gradually, step by step, you move to the third stage – love for the new habit. I genuinely fell in love with waking up so early because I noticed that I had much more time for the things I love. Now I manage to read a book every day, go for walks, communicate with people on Instagram, and see my friends. If I woke up at noon, I would hardly do even half of this list.
And confidence grows with each stage. You start to respect yourself because you do what you planned, then you begin to see the results of your “new life,” feel even greater affection, and day by day, you become more self-assured.
Bachata. Just one word, but what a huge fear that it won’t work out. With trembling hands, I open the doors of the studio and see three women and our instructor.
“Hi, Cinderella! We have a bit of a force majeure today. None of the guys signed up for the training, so I suggest we do a solo bachata, where we’ll not just practice dancing, but also feeling our own bodies. Are you okay with that?” the instructor asks me with a sweet smile.
“Hi! No, I'm totally okay – especially since I will be dancing bachata for the first time in my life.”
To say that a huge weight has lifted off my shoulders is to say nothing. Already without wild fear, I changed and stepped onto the dance floor. Three of my colleagues came, so there were seven of us, not counting the instructor.
An hour and twenty minutes flew by like 15 minutes. At first, we warmed up and stretched a bit – all to make our movements as smooth and gentle as possible. Then we moved directly to the dance. It turned out that bachata was very relaxing and somehow even energetic. I felt my femininity, the smoothness of my body, and I just wanted to close my eyes and feel how plastic I could be. Surprisingly, I enjoyed bachata even more than salsa. Perhaps because I would gladly dance salsa in a pair with Tristan, rather than just with an unfamiliar man, pleasant as Kirill is.
Kolia invited me to a pub where, according to him, the tastiest Caesar salad in the city is served. So I put on casual clothes and got ready to drink some beer. The pub's interior was authentic – the walls were adorned with scarves from the fans of "Shakhtar," "Dynamo," and "Zirka" – the the big city football club. The beer was also pleasantly surprising. Nick told me that the owners of this pub have their own brewery, so all the drinks here are produced by them.
For our friendly chat, I chose a dark beer with notes of chocolate and coffee. And although I’m not a fan of alcoholic beverages, this drink was quite to my taste.