Resistance & Ritual

By Maša H.

If I’ve ever experienced the most complex and layered emotions, it was through the experience of motherhood. A deep sense of responsibility often came flavoured with guilt and questions: Am I good enough? Can I give more—of myself, my time, my space? Do I give enough?

Every evening, I found myself in quiet dialogue with these thoughts, wondering if I was rising to the task. These inner conversations became part of my daily life, especially during the pandemic—when the world outside was silent, and the weight of care fell even heavier inside.

This work was gently shot during that time. It includes tender, open conversations between my son and me. It wasn’t easy—he rarely saw his father during that period, and the emotional complexity of it all was heavy for both of us. Yet he was brave enough to speak with honesty and depth, expressing things many adults struggle to name.

His courage moved me. In many ways, he became my greatest teacher.

Motherhood

The Pandemic

By Maša H.

During the pandemic, my son and I spent days, and weeks without seeing another adult or child. The loneliness of single motherhood had never felt more intense or more unbearable. Time became almost still—we moved through the motions of each day in a strange, suspended rhythm.

In this photo, I captured a moment of my son dancing through the shifting shadows and sunlight by the window, waiting patiently while I worked long hours. He played alone….I carried a deep sense of guilt—for not being able to be fully present, for letting him spend so much time alone. With no family nearby to offer support, the weight was heavy.

But through this experience, I learned how resilient we can be in the face of adversity. My son’s lightness amid such isolation reminded me that strength often grows quietly, in the background of our hardest days.

Descansos

By Eslem, 25

I have a strong belief that everything happens for a reason. That reason often leads to a significant change that will take place in the future. I've experienced similar events in my life that prove this belief is true.

For example, when I was 13, if the political climate in Turkey hadn’t started to become tense, I don't think I would have realized that I should become a journalist or study social sciences. I probably would have followed the typical path of someone from a science high school and chosen to become a doctor. Thank God, I am not a doctor—truly, thank God.

By Veronika, 47

She will know more about her dreams that stayed desires,

She will know more about rejections and fancy attires.

When she goes down the river.

She will know more about crossroads where she took the wrong turn.

She will have known the pain of a comment that stings like a burn.

She will know more about unsolicited lust,

She will know more about falling into one thousand pieces and not have a helping hand to rebuild her trust,

She will hate it all and crave for more,

when her ashes go down the river.

She will regret begrudge mourn all the moments filled with denial.

She will want them back regardless, they and only they were her real trial.

She will realize they were taken with her hopes down the river.

She will have known fleeing shivers of sheer joy.

She will be thankful and grateful and yet full of sorrow, for all the gifts and blessings and missed moments of love.

She will crave for more and rewind to the could-have-been bliss.

They tell you to seize the moment and capture the now. But they don't tell you all that you miss.

She may know what they meant as the stream takes her down the river.

She will have buried all the anger and pain deep in a lagoon of self pity and woe.

She will no longer ask Why me? and Who was in charge‎?

She will cry it out, and scream it out and stump her feet and grind her teeth all that it takes to take over the control of her life.

Open sores will be filled with love.

‎She asks for nothing more

when she goes down the river.

Down The River