And Then, Hope Again

A while ago, during an important event in my life, I couldn’t express my name — so I was symbolically called Nadezhda, which means “hope.”

I accepted the name alongside all the others I’ve been given: Malahat, Mila, Maria… and now, "Hope".

Recently the word "hope" was spoken again as a reminder — by someone whose words matter.

So, what is hope? Let’s dive into the nonsense of hope.

"Vilnius, Lithuania" by Jon Bilous

Sometimes it begins as a gentle surprise. Amid the heaviness of hopelessness, an action taken through struggle starts to soften what once felt sharp and dark.

There’s the helplessness of noticing a dream that feels unreachable — yet still, small steps are taken for a glimpse of hope in uncertainty. What if I didn’t imagine it? What if I saw the truth in those little details?

And then, a timid smile appears. Faces shift, uncertain — “Did I imagine this? Or is it real?” “Is this a joke… or sincerity?” “Is it tension from the fear of closeness — or the fear of losing it?”

Is it a challenge we must face, or is it… hope?

Let there be hope — the kind that quietly walks beside the hidden, naïve dreams.

Let it be gentle. Let it be soft. Let it be sincere — for that is more powerful than anything else.

Photo by Svetlana Baranauskiene

The recent season of my life journey was accompanied by the Linkin Park album From Zero. Let "Let You Fade" accompany this post now.

Keep hope. Take action. And don’t let yourself — or the ones you love — fade.