responsibility ⁽¹⁾

I've always avoided responsibility.
For me, responsibility equates to guilt.
If I don't accept responsibility, I'm not to blame.

Last year, I had a chance to shed any imposed responsibility (thanks, my love). I had the opportunity to live in that state, observe it, get accustomed to it slowly, with ease, confidence, and allure.

And now, you know, the desire to take responsibility is returning. Especially for things that truly matter to me.

During these starting days of the school year, I gather my children for school and kindergarten with gratitude and joy. I style Ksusha's hair. I realize that it's essential. That it's crucial to arrive on time. Pack a lunchbox. Give the kids some time to wake up slowly. Pick them up from school and kindergarten. Ask about their day. Reflect on it and convey my children's expectations and grievances to the teachers. I never thought I'd relate to school this way.

You keep asking and asking, and then at night, it turns out that the Polish children voted by a majority for Kseniya to be the class leader. And she only remembered it now. I swelled with pride. And after such events, try to suffer from the fact that you're in a foreign country.

Moreover, I've started therapeutic group meetings titled "My Feelings in Emigration."

I feel warm after the first session, but there's also a sense of responsibility. It's a good responsibility. I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to embrace it.