Last night I watched this video – a 3-hour documentary on how the war in Ukraine began. It hit hard. I couldn’t sleep afterwards. My brain kept replaying everything from the very beginning.

I remember seeing the news on the “special military operation.” I remember the sanctions. I remember realizing just how far Putin would go. I remember nearly getting arrested just for walking near a protest square, because that’s how things worked – the police didn’t care what you were doing, only that you existed at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Then came the mobilization. And the immediate decision: we had to leave.

We left Russia for Kyrgyzstan in a rush, and that was just the start.

Now, in 2025, this is my reality:

• I donate anonymously to Ukrainian causes in crypto.
• I avoid any engagement with Russia. I don’t work with Russian clients, I don’t use Russian services, and I avoid buying Russian-made products when I can.
• But most of the people I’ve ever known – around 80% – are still in Russia. Friends. Family. My parents.
• I still send money to my parents. I owe my father a debt for helping me during a very rough financial period – essentially buying back my old apartment from him.
• This drives me crazy. Because no matter how I spin it, I am still, in some indirect way, sending money into a system I hate.
• Sure, I try to balance that out by supporting Ukraine. But my conscience doesn’t care about spreadsheets.
• I’ve lost the desire to stay in touch with most people still living in Russia. Not because they’re bad people, but because they had options. Some of them could have left. They didn’t. They stayed, they pay taxes, they keep the war machine running.
• Putin is a fascist. Anyone who actively supports or enables this war – even passively – deserves consequences.
• I don’t want to be associated with this version of Russia.
• I don’t want the Russian flag next to my name to make anyone feel even slightly more comfortable. It should be a red flag. Literally.

There’s also this quiet, bitter feeling: had we not wasted 3 years trying to help certain friends survive abroad – people who ended up giving up and going back – we probably would have made it to Europe or the U.S. by now.

But here we are.

And now, I’m trying to figure out how to exist in a world where most of my past is in a country I despise – and my future needs to be built with strangers who still flinch when they hear I’m “originally from Russia.”