I came to Spain during the war with nothing. Two years later, I finally feel like I’m allowed to live again.

I came to Spain in 2022, during the war.
There was no clear plan — just the desperate need to breathe somewhere far from sirens, fear, and the feeling that everything was crumbling.

I thought I’d stay for a few months, study, maybe figure things out. But then my passport was stolen.
No documents. No family nearby. No money.
I was sleeping on the floor of a cold apartment, trying to stretch groceries for as long as possible. There were nights I was genuinely afraid I’d end up on the street.

And the strangest part? The world around me just kept moving.
People sipping coffee on sunny terraces, laughing, living.
I remember sitting on the metro thinking, “How are you all still functioning while I feel like I’m disappearing?”

Eventually, things started to shift. I got small jobs. I met kind people.
And then I met someone — a quiet, grounded Spanish man who didn’t try to fix me, but stayed. We built a life together, slowly.
After two years of living side by side, I finally received my residency.
It came with permission to work.
I held the paper in my hands and cried. Not because everything was solved — but because, finally, I had the right to stay.

And with that right, I made a decision:
I didn’t want to just exist anymore. I wanted to live. I wanted to create something.
So I started a YouTube challenge.
A diary, really — for anyone who also doesn’t know how to live sometimes. For anyone starting over from scratch, like I did.

I speak softly in my videos. I film little things. I tell the truth.
And for the first time in years, I feel like myself again.
Not a war refugee. Not a scared girl in a broken room. Just… someone with something to share.

I don’t know where this will go. But it feels like the beginning of something real.
And that’s enough for me right now.