Care of Souls.

This blog doesn't sound like the rest of this site. That's exactly why it's here.

My wife Bella writes a channel on Telegram: «С нежностью к себе» – with tenderness toward yourself. She writes from the middle of an ordinary life: a pregnancy, a lost job, envy while scrolling LinkedIn, a pendulum she never asked for. Diary-honest, direct, sometimes funny. No theory anywhere.

And underneath, it's the same way. Letting go, trust, being enough – the same ground, reached from a completely different side. If my pages don't reach you, hers might.

I pick the posts from her channel that belong on this way, translate them from the Russian originals, and add a few lines on where each one lands here. Her words stay hers – lightly corrected at most, never rewritten.

Where this comes from:

С нежностью к себе
Bella's channel on Telegram – all of her posts, in Russian.

All posts, newest first:

Seven in the Morning
A cocktail at 10 a.m., a cigarette, eyes scanning the beach for a "victim" – that was vacation. Bella's postcard from the other side of the road, swim ring included.
Allow Yourself Everything
Running into the sea, falling, laughing out loud – and the people sitting "prettily" on their loungers. Bella on seeming versus being, and who we actually keep ourselves in line for.
Laughing in the Sand
A stranger of fifty-something runs to the sea like a child, falls flat, and gets up laughing, sand from face to heels. On age, and enjoying yourself at 20 and at 70.
Imperfect Perfection
Wedding day, birthday, vacation – the days we want Perfect are the days a small hitch ruins. Bella, sick before the trip, tries it the other way round.
One Big Not
Quit smoking after the exam, start the thing once there's money and time – Bella knows the one big NOT that keeps a life on hold, and sends it packing.
His Toy
A six-year-old won't let the baby touch his swim ring. Everyone's reflex says "don't be greedy, share" – Bella hears a boundary, and decides to raise her daughter the same way.
A Little Spark
Scrolling the style feeds, she asks what her own style is – and finds two: rhinestones on her face, then plain jeans to hide in. Both are hers.
How to Boil Potatoes
She hates cooking, googles buckwheat every single time, and asked her friends how to boil potatoes. Behind the laugh sits a capital-letter rule about what a woman must be.
Tomorrow I'm 35
Tomorrow she turns 35, absolutely happy – and tells the whole road for the first time, including the parts she was ashamed to say out loud.
Choosing Yourself
The body sounds its siren, the requests can't be refused, the self-care waits for "later". On the smallest, hardest skill: choosing yourself.
The Controller Leaves
Filed from the middle of the wave, not after it: tears at a McDonald's, an inner controller deciding to leave, and emotions no longer stored in the body.
Whole and Worthy
Who decided that being whole and worthy means covering every area of life? On unpaid years that count, maternity-leave growth, and success that means something different to each of us.
Five Minutes
Hour-long sessions left her wanting to quit; a five-minute motto helped her keep going. On the motto that removes expectations, self-violence and disappointment.
It Starts With You
It all starts with you – banal, infuriating, true. Bella maps the stages nobody advertises, down to the lost point where the old life is gone and the new hasn't arrived.
Ask for the House
Ask not for the path but for the end goal itself. Her unwinding question – I want this, and why? – walks any wish down to the real one.
Write It Down
Thoughts buzz like a swarm of bees until they land on a page. Bella's favorite practice: the diary, the unsent letter, the wish letter.
Breaking the Circle
The same relationship on repeat, like carbon copies. Bella names the closed circle, walks out of the script – and the next level opens.
The Dark Forest
A notebook mind-map from two years ago: fears by the cartload, no idea where to go. Found again, it measures the way walked since.
Not Aladdin's Lamp
The universe is not Aladdin's lamp with a wish quota. A full-volume rant against wish-making rules – and the mother-and-sweet analogy that ends the argument.
The Right to Want
The shame of wanting was strong enough that writing her wishes down was the hardest thing in years. On paper, they stopped being frightening.
One Take
Blogger rules said short, punchy, a little spice. The videos went dead. Bella drops the borrowed frames, films as herself – and it takes one take.
Stronger Than I Think
She braced for postpartum depression and the post-move crash; neither arrived. On unlearning the inherited habit of waiting for the negative.
Simply Live
The checkbox list never ends: family, career, hobbies, growth. Bella steps off the treadmill for half an hour on the balcony – and names the hardest permission: simply live.
Through Her Eyes
Her daughter is a blank sheet the world hasn't written on yet. Bella learns to look through her eyes – and finds she has stopped judging.
Try Everything
The voice says you're no Picasso; she thanks it and creates anyway. On wanting everything again after a childhood of narrowing – for satisfaction, not verdicts.
For Me, a Miracle
A panic attack on the train to Zürich – the strongest in ten years – and an offer of care that wakes an older reflex: the feeling of not having earned it.
Let's Be Friends
Children make friends in minutes; adults look for the catch. Bella watches a move to a new country hand the old skill back – starting with a stranger at the lake.
Take It All
A stick, a purse, and a phrase that made her shudder mid-sentence. Bella catches an inherited rule leaving her mouth – and reverses it on the spot.
Tools and Instructions
Journalist or actress, said the childhood test; her mother laughed. Bella on the tools we arrive with – and forget where we put.
Lilith and Agatha
Lilith and Agatha aren't their names, but the story is true: the friend who kept her small, and how much came back when she left.
All the Bread
A child eats the only food she can, and is branded ill-mannered. Bella on the words that program children – and on standing up, late.
Back to Myself
She forbade herself the joy of helping, afraid it was ego. Bella on the day the fog lifted and she returned to herself, in tears.
These Tears
She always stopped the tears that came when people sang together. Bella on the suppressed part of herself she finally welcomed home.
The Body Says Stop
A crying-laughing-crying morning, four abandoned workouts, and the moment she stopped: Bella on hearing the body over the brain, and obeying it.
Woman to Woman
Single against married, the cold look, the eternal marathon – and the warmth replacing it. Bella on women as a single force, again.
Not a Ladder
She envied everyone with a straight career line and called herself a failure. Bella on the day her inconsistency turned out to be her way.
With Tenderness
No porridge, no laundry, maybe no workout – a lazy-mom day, declared without guilt. The channel's name, «С нежностью к себе», practiced in a few lines.
Simply Bella
Why does money want to be spent the moment it arrives? Bella follows the urge past the checkout and finds what the soul was shopping for.
For Yourself
I draw terribly, so why draw at all? Bella runs the numbers on talent and lands on the only audience that matters: yourself. Let's create.
Have To
Her mom washes the whole house before guests – “have to”. Bella takes the word apart and replaces it with two better ones: want, and can.
Already There
Everyone has a hobby except her – until a pilates session twenty minutes before this post. Bella on the lack that was manufactured by looking sideways.
One Is Enough
Rereading her birth records without the old fear, deciding once is enough – and answering everyone who says she'll change her mind. Bella, unapologetic.
Something Ripening
The pressure says get a job, keep up; something inside says ripen first. Bella between Instagram's clock and the Universe's – watching the signs.
The Bag
Counting kopecks among rich kids, and twenty years later a Louis Vuitton boutique in Zurich. Bella on the dream that was supposed to put it all to rest.
Your Mask First
A week alone with the baby, a husband glad to help, and the anger – at herself, for not asking. Bella on the lesson nobody taught us: caring for yourself.
Ten Circles
A “bad mother” thought, and the memory that answers it: her own mom resting while little Bella ran circles around her – and loved every minute.
Two Photos
At 50 kilos she thought she was fat; at 70 she's happy – and thinks the same. Bella's two photos, and the sentence that survived both bodies.
Your Place Finds You
Send a hundred résumés, knock on every door – or keep doing your work and let your place find you? Bella tells the year that tested both.
In Waves
After the hard posts, the other side: a child as a wild card, flights with a cat, and why “no life with kids” is a story, not a fact.
I Surrender
Control what you can, allow the rest – her psychologist's line, and the apartment that arrived the day after she stopped fighting for it.
In Its Own Time
She dreamed of marriage and children for years; they came the moment she let the dreams go. Bella on timing, and the years that built her.
The Perfect Picture
Why do births come out perfect in every story? Bella breaks the mothers' code of silence – and names the fear she's still carrying herself.
Ask, Then Walk
Ask – and then what? Sit and wait for the miracle? Bella on naming a desire out loud, walking toward it, and reading “not now” as a pause.
The Third Position
Everything is fated, or everything is your fault – two traps with the same exit. Bella names the third position: doing your part, trusting the rest.
States, Not Places
3D, 4D, 5D – spiritual feeds are full of dimension-talk. Bella takes the mystery out of it: not parallel worlds, but survival, awareness, and trust.
Under One Blanket
Feeding every hour of the night, sleep in shreds – and an early-morning moment when the whole world stands still. Bella on not hurrying time, even now.
Being Myself
Thirty years of friendship among women who are nothing alike – and the day comparison lost its pull. Bella on knowing herself, boundaries, and liking her own life.
Don't Anger God
She writes “I'm tired” in her journal – and a voice answers, don't anger God. Bella traces the phrase from moral compass to inherited tool of fear.
Simply Living
No hobby, no job, no constant running – and the question of what that makes her. Bella on being judged by achievements, and simply living instead.
Stopping in Time
Three shots and drops, three protection rituals, three blocked trips – then a traffic jam that made her laugh. Bella on signs, timing, and letting events arrange themselves.
Humor or Aggression
Eating on the run, rushed showers, tears on the bathroom floor – and a choice in the hardest moments: humor or aggression. Bella on the laughter that took years.
Different Shoes
Everyone with two kids is certain she needs a second – then she catches herself doing the same thing to a friend. Bella on respecting wishes that aren't yours.
My Motherhood
Diapers, night feeds, a phone always within reach – and a daughter who is more likely to remember being heard and loved. Bella on motherhood as presence, doubts and melting heart included.
Being Parents
Eight days in – stress, night feeds, hormone waves, and taking turns at feeling useless. Bella's first conclusions from parenthood, with the best advice she got.
No Filters
An emergency C-section, a body that can't sit up, and tears over accepting one night of help. Bella's unfiltered birth story – no ponies, no filtered happy women.
Not a Punishment
“Do bad and it comes back” is the folk version. Bella on karma as seeds and intention – the law of cause and effect, without the cosmic scorekeeper.
They Whisper Now
Panic attacks, anxieties, a workbook full of fears – and not one came true. Bella on stripping fear of its power and finally feeling what “be in the now” means.
The World Answered
Nine years of anger at a world that seemed not to love her – then a mentor, a path, and a world that answers. Bella on why her channel exists.
I Understand You
Almost 30 kilos through quitting smoking and pregnancy, and all the rational comfort known by heart. Bella on the one sentence that actually helps – and the many that don't.
Two Hedgehogs
Wishes under a darkened moon – and two little hedgehogs that appeared as if on purpose and left when it was done. Bella on signs, and on not being alone.
Thanks, We'll Manage
A daughter on the way, a flood of advice incoming – and one sentence ready: thank you, we'll manage. Bella on boundaries, self-built cages, and rest that isn't selfish.
Nothing Lost
Scrolling through YouTube shorts, strangers' lives on parade – and one sudden question: why do I need to know this? Bella on the ego, the feed, and the unfilmed moment.
Stability Doesn't Exist
A steady job, loyal friends, a settled life – and any of it can change tomorrow. Bella dismantles the myth of stability and points at what actually holds.
Our Tomorrow
A 90s childhood, parents raised harder still, and everyone carrying their portion of old wounds. Bella on the fork in the road: keep blaming, or take the wheel.
What Resonates
“I must, because…” – if a thing feels like an obligation, you’re already on a path that isn’t yours. Bella's short manifesto on acting from wanting, not from fear or guilt.
Not by the Manual
About five years of dance class, every move memorized exactly – and the front row went to girls who danced “wrong.” Bella on what they knew, and what manuals can't hold.
Sitting on Clouds
A lifelong dreamer notices she has quietly stopped dreaming – not from boredom, but from a feeling of “not deserving it.” Bella takes her cloud back.
A Letter from Love
Rereading Elizabeth Gilbert, Bella finds the letter where Love itself speaks – no demands, no race, no wrong turns. Just the sentence we least believe.
Without a Mold
A lively girl in the 90s, filed under “bad children” for fidgeting in class. Bella on the molds made for girls, women, people – and on living without them.
As It Should Be
Panic attacks, a hospital, years of asking “why me?” – and a computer game, played out of boredom, that led to her husband. Bella retraces the chain backwards.
The Shadow
No work, no tasks, a loving husband nearby – and no joy. Bella writes from inside the fog where the fire seems to have gone out, without pretending she's found the exit.
Off the Needle
Deleting her email app doesn’t scare her – so why did deleting one app feel like withdrawal? Bella on a decision that ripened for months, and the alarm bell that settled it.
Forbidden Feelings
Fifth month, hormones, and a sadness with no tragedy to justify it. Bella on the inner rulebook that decides when feeling is allowed – and what it forbids.
Hearing Yourself
You walk into a meeting and know in seconds: leave, or stay. Then the mind steps in. Bella on the quiet part of us that always knows – and rarely shouts.
Three Wishes
A genie, a lamp, three wishes – and both of them, after thinking, answer: nothing. Bella on the butterfly effect of wanting, and loving the moment she's in.
Living Silence
Sit on a bench by the forest and everything seems frozen – then a squirrel, a drop, a butterfly. Bella on the stillness in which life quietly continues.
With Trembling Hands
Death arrives, and every fear stands up with it – of dying, of living, for everyone she loves. Bella writes from inside the heavy days: there is always a way out.
Happy Out Loud
Pregnant, overjoyed – and told to keep quiet for three months. Bella on why we share sadness so easily and joy so rarely, and what would happen if we learned.
100 Wishes
In 2019 the list said handbag, boots, gadgets. Six years later she wrote it again – and hardly anything survived. Bella on what a wish list reveals about happiness.
Not a Lion
A lion is built for hunting; a wildebeest simply lives – and never asks why it isn't a lion. Bella on comparison, roles, and the exhale of being yourself.
From Anxiety to Silence
Falling asleep at 3am with pills and a TV show, afraid of the quiet itself. Bella on the slow inner work that turned silence back into home.
Good or Bad?
A shark eats the hatchling, the cuddly cat hunts by day – bad? Bella borrows nature's eyes for the labels we hang on events, and on death itself.
City or Forest
Neutral clothes, no bars, a hut in the woods – the image of the “spiritual person” is a label too. Bella on practicing between cafés, flights, and bright dresses.
An Education in Living
Speak, walk, write, count – school covers everything except how to be. Bella catches up on the lessons nobody gave the 90s kids: boundaries, self-care, and a full-sized “no”.
Permission to Try
A week of planning a barbecue spot, then the quiet realization: I don't want it. Bella on trying as the way we learn to live – no talent required.
Convenient Cages
Successful or loser, good wife, productive citizen – the brain loves its boxes, and we end up living in them. Bella takes the labels apart, and takes hers off.
This Is Why
Years of practice, no visible response, the urge to quit it all – and then one backward glance shows the fruits. Bella on the day the way says: this is why.
The Controller
Planning the vacation a year ahead, scripting every meeting – and mood at zero when life disagrees. Bella on her inner controller, and the documentary that finally shrank it.
When I Grow Up
One day you're a schoolkid, the next you're told to decide your whole life. Bella at 33, on still not knowing who to be – and why it stopped being scary.
A Strange Envy
A scroll through LinkedIn, a sting out of nowhere – everyone found a job but her. Bella follows the envy to its root: nobody taught us to simply be.
The Pendulum
An unexpected gift, two years of practice, and a notebook full of answered questions. Bella on the pendulum – not magic, an instrument of connection with yourself.
Make a Wish
One wish per falling star, one for the birthday candles – don't be greedy. Bella lived by that rule for 33 years, until one sentence dissolved it. A post about asking.
Just Exhale
A job gone, a baby coming, and fear moving in fast. Bella's first lesson in trusting: security was never in the paycheck. A post about hitting the bottom – and landing.