I was born 31 years ago. I was born with dreams and high hopes.

I left Poland, my home country, to pursue freedom, love and beautiful adventures.

I found everything I wanted. I am hungry for more.

Then I got sick – not something dramatic, but it keeps me alert to my own physical limits.

I feel vulnerable. I also feel passionate about my job. I want to give it all I have. It looks like it is not sufficient. I feel overwhelmed. I see tired and stressed faces of my colleagues and suppliers. I see a tired face when brushing my teeth in the morning.

I feel frustration, sadness and anger. I feel fear.

***

Yesterday I went to see fireworks with two crazy, lovely Moroccan ladies. (Girls, I love you!)

I liked everything except the crowd. It made me nervous.

I took a taxi to get back home: “Did you hear about the terrorist attack in Nice?”

“Hmm, I beg your pardon? No, I did not (!!??)”. Loads of swear words followed.

I was unable to go to sleep straight. I watched the news. I cried.

“31-year-old French-Tunisian driver killed dozens of people.”

My boyfriend is 35-year-old and originated from Tunisia. He became French a few months ago, a few weeks after I did.

France is not the only country suffering from violence. It is everywhere. It happens all the time.

Millions of people survive each day with less than 2 dollars. I feel lucky to have a flat, a job, something to eat and beautiful people to laugh with.

Today I feel tired, sad, and anxious.

I want the world to be safe, joyful and full of love: for myself, for others, for future generations.

Today I went out to buy a camera to register video interviews with inspiring people.

When I was going back home in the hot and crowded Parisian subway, I could not stop my tears.

I felt embarrassed and pathetic. I looked like a depressed Cocker Spaniel. My big blue eyes got wet and red. I was trying hard to stop crying. I could not. I had nothing to dry up my tears.

A middle aged woman sitting in front of me was searching for something in her bag. Just before I rushed to get out at my stop, she gave me a few paper handkerchiefs.

When I was heading to another subway line, I read on the packaging: “Freshness. Mint.”

It was written in Polish. I was stunned. My compatriot saved me from drowning in my own tears.

***

I have Polish roots, a magic French passport and nothing to declare.

I dream of travelling around the world and giving birth to multicultural crazy babies. 🙂

I have always considered myself ambitious and strong. Today I am vulnerable and I need a hug.

I feel sad and it is fine. I am OK.

My hunger for new experiences got bigger and my joy of being alive deeper.

God bless us all. Tomorrow is another day. With a little luck, we will still be breathing.

As long, as I am breathing, I am safe. And I feel love. Oh yeah!

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