Wild hearts can’t be broken
This is a story about love. About 3 impossibly strong and inspiring women: 2 moms and their lovely daughter.
Nataly, Olga and Sofia left Russia in the summer of 2019 to seek asylum in The Netherlands. Decision was made fast and easy - children from gay families were taken away from their parents one by one (which is considered "legal" in Russia since 2013). Olga and Natasha were ready to do anything so that Sofia wouldn't be next. They learned that the government has already started collecting a dossier on them.
The couple already saw what Sofia was going through - she wouldn't want to go to her favourite kinder garden till the point of tears, she was constantly told that her mom is bad and wrong. They didn't know what would the whole process be like, they just knew that fleeing was their only shot at being a family because time was working against them. Girls collected all the documents proving their family was at risk: all the instances of beatings, discrimination, examples of illegal incarceration of LGBTQ people in Russia, all the laws that threatened their safety. Applied for a visa and left. Apartments, careers, cars, money, friends and family were left behind in a heist.
At that point they didn't know that would never be able to return. Nataly's mom was told they were leaving for political reasons (without detail), dad was simply informed of the move to The Netherlands, friends thought they moved for work. Till this day most of their friends and closed ones from Russia either don't know they are an LGTBQ family or simply don't talk about it.
Once they got to the Netherlands, they were set up in a refugee camp to wait for the decision on their application that by law shouldn't have taken more than 6 months. But because of bureaucracy and pandemic they were stuck in a small room in a refugee camp for 2 years waiting on the decision that would determine their fate. A limbo of uncertainty and fear, without any rights or documents.
Nataly and Sofia discussing Sofia's homework and preparing for a lunch. One small room, no more than 18 square meters. For 3 people for 2 years. During COVID lockdowns they only left it to go the toilet, shower or for the trip to the supermarket once a week. Moms' bed, Sofia's bed, toys, lockers for wardrobes, kitchen table and all their possessions fit into a human shoe-box. Sofia was smiling all the time. She was so happy to share some watermelon she got at school and her newest experience of learning. As I was looking around, trying to figure out how a whole family could fit in that space, she ran in shining like the brightest ray of hope and love I have ever seen.
Decorations on the girls' walls and bookcase. This lovely portrait created by Sofia is an eternal symbol that it was all worth it. It is a self-portrait with words describing her written around her face. In the corner it says in Dutch: "Ik heb twee mama en één papa" (I have two moms and 1 dad). She could say it to her peers and not be treated horribly, she knew she just had more parents than some kids and it was good, not bad.
Sofia walking through an audio installation at an art show in Groningen. Moms were really scared about how the move would affect Sofia. They consulted a psychologist who told them: "Don't worry, for a kid home is always where their mom is". Bright and very curious this little lady ran around the exhibit asking all sorts of questions, I could barely keep up. Everything was new, unusual, very different. And she wanted to know about it all, absorbing this new magical world like a sponge. As if she is not going back home to a tiny room in a refugee camp after this outing. It didn't matter. Home was wherever love was. And it was everywhere: her moms, her new friends, peculiar art, weird world around her.
Olga, Nataly and Sofia on the train from Groningen to Assen. The scariest moment was in February - March of 2021. Their passports were already taken, but no decision was yet made. Not a "no", not a "yes". Without any right to work or study, locked in a room full of unknown. It was a time of depression. Everything was closed due to pandemic lockdown, almost no social life, nothing to do, no feeling of belonging. Neighbours from Iran, Syria, Chechnya. All waiting. They did all they could to focus on their daughter: educate her, best they could, think about her future, help her adjust. Time stood still, while the news from Russia were only getting worse. Kids were taken away from their LGBTQ families, people arrested, aggression rising. Three incredibly loving, brave and beautiful ladies holding on to their dream to be a family, stuck between two worlds.
Girls in their new home, lunch break during one more day of renovation work. After 2 years of waiting, they were given documents and were allowed to stay in the country. Enthusiastically painting walls, choosing furniture (they found a lot of good free stuff online), dreaming of what their home will look like.
Girls at an art event in Groningen. Despite all the challenges - past and present, they did not regret or second-guess their decision for a second. They got away from terror, from beatings, humiliation and fear, they left the place where taking away someone's child was legal, as far as the government was concerned. They say, they got lucky. They jumped into that train in the last moment - right before pandemic, before war, before they suffered even more loss. When it was unbearably hard they helped each other through it, shaking each other out of depressions, taking each other to doctors, doing all they could refocus on what was important.
Olga and Nataly on their couch, trying to fix up lighting in the apartment, laughing. Empty walls in an apartment in a tiny town started to be filled with paint and decorations; inside space was happily welcoming second-hand furniture, donations, new friends and new hope. It was a home now. Safe, inviting, filled with love. Every small step was hard, but it was a victory. Learning the language, looking for work, figuring out what to do next.
Nataly showing Russian flag with the name of their home town It took them somewhere between 6 months to 1 year to be able to say: "I am a lesbian", without feeling shame or guilt, without feeling like they said something bad and were gonna get hit. Their whole lives it was an offensive, swear word. Olga remembers how she went to visit her friends when the law of 2013 was passed. She was hugging her (back then) girlfriend standing in the street and her friend yelled: "What are you doing? You are going to get fucking arrested!". It wasn't just about living an underground life, lying in fear, but it was about condemning your children to the be forever miserable or defective. According to Nataly, most people from LGBTQ community stay in Russia because they are slaves, their whole Russian psychology is based on "being needed where they were born", not knowing that it could ever be better. It took Olga and Nataly about a year to get used to being accepted as a family, not bullied or discriminated against.
Olga and Sofia fixing electricity at home. Olga's t-shirt for her first ever PRIDE laid out on the couch. If things in Russia were different, more LGBTQ families would have kids. These are conscious children, they are never "an accident". People are working hard towards getting a child and creating a family.
Olga and Nataly hugging on their couch, wearing their PRIDE t-shirts. It took Nataly and her wife about a year to get used to being accepted. Not being scared to say, they were an LGTBQ family. When taking their daughter to school they are greeted by a teacher who is very excited to see two moms, the community is friendly and supportive and they will at home here. They finally have a home. Mostly, because they have each and they can be a family without fear. Nataly was walking with Sofia. Sofia: "Mom, where do you think the best place on Earth is?" Nataly: "I don't know" Sofia (bouncing with happiness): "Mom, you know, I think that our [small town they currently live in] is the best place on Earth". So it was all worth it, and whatever may come will be worth it, so long as their child has a chance to have a home in the best place on Earth.