Crystal Hearts

Three years of full-scale war today. A lot can be said about that day and what has happened over the past three years, but I thought I’d share a personal family story and some of the hard decisions that had to be made in the first weeks that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

community builder /bright-moments, storyteller, AI enthusiast, activist, nonprofit founder /crystal-hearts @crystalhearts 🤍🇺🇦📍Venice Beach 🌊

As I wasn’t in Ukraine, I had to wake up my mom and tell her that the full-scale war had begun. My family was sleeping and didn’t know that less than 25 miles away, russian troops were already moving toward my hometown, fighter jets were dropping bombs, and civilians were being killed. I kept dialing my mom until she woke up. She was confused and told me they hadn’t heard anything and needed to check the news. A few minutes later, they started hearing explosions and russian fighter jets flying over my hometown.

The first 10 days, my family spent mostly in the basement. On the 10th day, there was the biggest attack on my town, with russians conducting airstrikes and dropping aerial bombs from planes on residential buildings. A family of three who lived just around the corner from our house burned alive; there was nothing left, and their remains had to be identified through DNA tracing.

The next week after that, I spent trying to figure out evacuation—the hardest choice I ever had to make in my life. Allowing my mom to stay there during heavy bombardment meant she could be killed by a bomb or missile; at the same time, attempting evacuation at that point could be even worse, as russians were shooting at civilian cars that were trying to evacuate and killing many.

Either way, the choice had to be made, and I chose to push for evacuation (and my mom gave in; at that point, she was feeling so exhausted and sick after spending most of the time hiding during air raids that wouldn’t end and sleeping in the basement).

And as many of you know, luckily everything ended well and she made it safely all the way to the border with Hungary where I picked her up, and she returned to our hometown after a month away, as soon as it became calmer. Over the past three years, I have had to make a lot of hard decisions for myself with all the aid delivery work on the frontlines, some of which put my own life in a lot of danger and looking back, I’m kinda surprised I’m still alive. But I don’t think any of it will ever compare to those first weeks of war and making those decisions for my family.

So both possibilities seemed horrible. In the first option, the possible outcome was not only dying but our town potentially being occupied, which could also mean torture, rape, and eventual death, as it was already happening in many cities and villages across Ukraine. In the second option, I could make her evacuate, and she would have gotten killed on the way, and I don’t think I would have been able to live with that.