My dream has sharpened lately. I want to become a fitness trainer — not the shouting, high-energy kind you see in viral videos, but the calm, steady one who truly sees people. I imagine creating safe spaces where someone who’s never felt strong in their body can discover that strength exists inside them already. Small classes, personal attention, gentle progress, no judgment — just movement as kindness toward yourself. I picture sunrise runs with a few brave souls, teaching them to breathe deeply, to feel their heartbeat as proof they’re alive. And maybe one day blending it with retreats in quiet, beautiful places: yoga at dawn, sketching in the afternoon, strength training under open sky.

Hi, I’m Masha. I’m 18, and I’m one of those people who can stay quiet for hours while a whole world spins inside my head. I live in a small town surrounded by trees and very little rush — it suits me perfectly. By day I work as an interior designer, but the real me only comes alive when I pick up a pencil or a brush.

Drawing isn’t just a hobby for me — it’s how I breathe. I draw everything: portraits of strangers I spot in cafés, fantasy forests where the trees remember people’s faces, old houses with cracked windows, abstract shapes of feelings too big for words. I love watercolour for its stubborn nature — the way the paint decides for itself where it wants to flow. Sometimes I spend hours on a single sheet; other times a piece is born in fifteen minutes and becomes my favourite forever. When I draw, I’m more honest than I ever manage to be when I speak.

And the meaning of life? Maybe it’s about leaving behind something a little warmer than it was before you arrived. Not something grand or eternal — just a small trace: a smile on a stranger’s face, a painting someone stared at longer than usual, or the quiet feeling of being truly seen. I don’t manage it every day, but when I draw… most of the time, I get close.