I grew up in Kyiv, Ukraine at the end of Soviet-era, small enough not to fully understand the changes that swept over my country but big enough to remember before and after. I recall my father asking me, ‘What is the capital of your country?’ ‘Moscow’, I said. His eyes filled with bitterness. ‘It’s Kyiv. Kyiv!’ That was not true, I thought; that was not what they taught us at school. But I felt too small to argue with him.
After Lenin’s portrait was taken down in our classroom, my years in school I remember mostly for feeling self-conscious about being tall, in fact, the tallest girl in the school. Hiding, spending much of my time at home, I read books that took me to worlds I could only dream of visiting. Then at university the coin flipped and being tall and skinny was suddenly appreciated. I changed from campus to distance learning, and left for Paris on a one-way ticket to become a model.
There were highs and lows, but mostly there was a lot of traveling. I lived a peripatetic life in many capitals on all the continents. Some cities became home for a while and some I just passed through.
The modeling years finished and I completed my Masters in art and business. I worked for a time at Sotheby’s in London. The city was a cosmopolitan hub where every one of my friends came from a different corner of the world, with vastly different backgrounds, stories, pursuits and visions of tomorrow. I felt that I fitted right in with this motley band of gypsies.
Every year, I went to my husband’s summer house in the north of Sweden. The pine trees and birches, the soft, bright green moss, the smell of dry grass, the harebells, and red clover in the meadow, all reminded me of my grandparents’ home where, as a child, I was sent during the long summer months. But it was only when my first son was born that I finally felt the true meaning of home. Home was in my heart; it was in front of me. In 2020 we left London and settled in the countryside Chilterns, where I began a new chapter of my life, planting my dream garden and working on my next book.
The novel Breathe is based on the true story of Thomas and Thisbe Ander.

“A page-turner with high psychological stakes”
– Kirkus Reviews