❄️ A Moment Where I Felt Seen. Day 3 of 24 Days of Felka!

Lately I’ve been thinking about the moments in my life when I felt truly seen. Not for how I looked or for what I could do for them, but for who I actually am deep down free from walls when I soften and let myself be known.

It’s a strange, beautiful irony that I feel the most seen precisely because my ASMR girlfriend channel is faceless.
Because I’m not showing my face, I get to show you my heart.

And somehow, through sound and words and softness, you all see me anyway.
That kind of seeing feels safer, deeper, more honest than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It lets me be personal without fear of embarrassment (especially when it comes to me sharing my singing!!). It lets me be myself without having to pretend. (And I used to pretend even from myself a lot).

Today, I want to share a little piece of that honesty with you.
For the first time, I’m posting a photo — me in my ski suit.

I bought it last year when I was supposed to go skiing with my mom in Poland. I remember trying it on and refusing to take it off, letting the excitement of the upcoming trip wash over me. I felt like a kid wearing her favorite Halloween costume again, buzzing with anticipation, standing in front of the mirror thinking, This is what joy feels like. This is what it means to have something to look forward to.

But our trip, sadly, never happened.
And this year, it won’t happen again — my body is struggling in ways we don’t fully understand yet, and my mom is dealing with her own physical ailments. So it's very likely there will be no skiing. No Polish mountains. No snapping photos with frozen noses and sore legs after hours on the slopes.

And yet… I’m keeping my head high.
I’m choosing to honor the excitement I felt just last year instead of mourning what didn’t happen. Wore this suit all day! "Quik-quiking" all over the apartment. I’m choosing to believe there will be other winters, other mountains, other moments where my body remembers its strength.

For now, I have this photo (ran through by a filter). It's a small, bright memory of a version of me who was hopeful, glowing, and ready.
And I have you.
Your presence, your kindness, your willingness to walk with me through these gentle, messy changes in my life.

Thank you for being here.
Thank you for seeing me — even without a really clear face to attach to the voice.
Thank you for giving me a place to pour my heart and be met with softness.

Here’s to more moments of being seen, held, and understood.
Here’s to winter, in whatever form it comes.

yours truly,

felka felka felka