“ADVENTURE” is a word that was always exciting and special to me, but I never knew I would experience an adventure I could only dream about. An adventure that brought me from Russia to British Columbia, Canada. My first truly bold and independent step in life was choosing to be with the person I love. There were two things about my decision that my family and friends in Russia were unhappy about. My partner is foreign and she is a woman.
I met Meg in 2005. We found each other through the Internet and we desperately wanted to be together. In February, 2006, I completely changed my life by leaving my hometown in Russia to be with Meg in Kiev, the city where she had been born. Friends, colleagues, parents and Russian society would never accept a woman doing what I did.
But all that would come later. In autumn, 2005, Meg and I started to write to each other constantly, but as a Russian girl my life had to follow patterns established through the centuries. A girl grows up, gets married, has children, keeps her husband satisfied, and dies without a chance of achieving her dreams. Nobody would even guess that I dared to wish for better.
I finished university and immediately became an architect, like my parents, working in the same firm—the largest building and design company in the region, under the watchful eyes of my mother, who had worked there for more than twenty years. I was attractive and my parents proudly anticipated marrying me to a respectable man. I was very aware of my mother’s hopes, but I didn’t want to be with a man; it was against my nature. I hadn’t dated anybody in university or while at work, and by then I was already 25. Being a single woman at that age could mean only two things: I was unattractive to men, or I was lesbian. My mother assumed it was the former, so she made me wear short skirts, high heels, and makeup. 
To stop her from interfering in my personal life, I had to find a guy to date. I knew that this was a waste of time, but my fear of being an outcast was overwhelming. Dmitry started working in our company several months after I met Meg. He was tall, good-looking, and polite. My mother noticed him right away. Once, after lunch, I visited mother in her office and she encouraged me to meet Dmitry, who was playing ping-pong in the hall. “Others will get him before you do!” she exclaimed. Sure, he was nice and polite, definitely better than the average guy, but what difference did that make to me? I was not attracted to him and resented being forced into a relationship with him. I would never love him or even enjoy his company, but everyone around us thought we made a “lovely couple.” No one would have believed that I was so unhappy.
Nights were the only time when I could admit this even to myself. I went to bed and wondered what my future would be like. Would there be a woman in it, or would I live with a man I hated and rear his children? I didn’t know, I only dreamed to be free. I would finally fall asleep, but the merciless mornings came again and again, bringing me to my inescapable reality.
Dmitry went to his parents’ place on weekends, which was the only time I had alone. Safely alone and unseen by parents, friends, or boyfriend, I built a secret life. I didn’t dare to look for special bars or places in town, so I resorted to the Internet to find people like me. Generally there was nothing exciting about the women that I found on-line, most of whom labeled themselves “bisexual.” One day I found the profile of a Canadian woman on-line and tentatively made contact. We started writing to each other. It was intriguing from the start, but it was only months later that I realized it was becoming serious. We fell in love and decided to meet in Kiev in February. I started to count down the months.
Although Meg had become the most important part of my life, I had to keep my feelings secret. I carefully told my mother that I had a pen-friend and that I was going to Kiev to meet her. Mother was surprised by my determination to see Meg, but she let me go, persuading me to return as soon as possible. I needed my Mother’s permission to go, but even more I needed it from my boyfriend. I wanted him to leave me alone and I knew that would be very difficult to achieve. One night I gathered all my strength and told Dmitry the truth. I was hoping that he would get mad and leave me alone, but even the fact that I loved another person didn’t change his plans for me. He continued seeing me every day, only now he became more possessive. He walked me to and from work every day. I saw so much of him that I felt physically nauseated, but there was nothing I could do. He knew my secret and that was the trump card he threatened me with.
Long days of waiting were finally over. Fear that my love would be discovered made me careful to avoid mistakes. The pride-crushing lies to my Mother and the acting game with Dmitry didn’t even hurt me that day. Nothing mattered any more; I had a plane ticket to Kiev. That morning at the bus terminal Dmitry was still holding my hand. How could he not know that I despised him? I felt a twinge of pity for him, but he had hurt me too much to be forgiven.
I met Meg in Kiev and we were together at last. I let my parents know that I was happy and I was with the woman I loved. Soon after that they came to Kiev to kidnap me. They attacked and beat me and tried to drag me home. My father spat in Meg’s eyes and punched her. The crowd around us watched with interest; for them it was a rare amusement. Instead of arresting my parents for kidnapping and assault, the Kiev police suggested Meg was an international prostitute smuggler. One officer told me that Meg didn’t love me and that she was planning to sell my organs. It seemed to me then that entire world had gone insane and everything was against us.
Later that day, I found out that my parents had stolen my passport during the attack. Without a passport I could enter only one country: Russia. On the advice of the Canadian Embassy, we left Kiev and went into hiding in Odessa, an ancient city in southern Ukraine. There I used my last link to Moscow to get my passport back: my only true friend smuggled it out of Russia and brought it to me in Odessa. With my passport finally in hand, Meg and I flew to Turkey, a coastal country that didn’t require a visa.
Meg’s idea of using water as a bridge between continents didn’t surprise me at all. She had talked of sailing a 24-foot racing yacht back in Victoria, and I knew her well enough to trust her completely. In Turkey we started looking for a boat for our escape. We found Violeta, a 46-foot Beneteau sailboat, and started to prepare her for extreme offshore sailing. I had never sailed before; in fact, I had only seen the sea once before in my life. But I had no fear or doubt; we wanted to be together and we had to sail to freedom. I took seven sailing lessons from a Turkish woman, and after two months of preparation we were heading for the open sea. With a Russian passport, very few countries would accept me, so we were prepared for very few stops.
Sailing south off the Greek isle of Rhodes to stay clear of Greek waters, we had our first storm and that day I became a sailor. By the end of August we were near Gibraltar. The boat’s equipment was in a bad state and we hoped the authorities would allow us to make repairs in Gibraltar, but with a Russian on board they would not. We were allowed a few minutes to take on fuel before the police arrived. With a failing wind vane, a broken autopilot, failed radar, and no charts, we started our crossing of the Atlantic Ocean.
After almost a year of sailing in which we crossed the Mediterranean, the Atlantic, the Caribbean, and nearly losing the battle when sailing up the Pacific, we finally saw lights through the night in Victoria, Canada, a place that back in Kiev had been barely a mirage for us. We tied the boat to a wet dock in silence as darkness gave way to a morning of ethereal calm.
Meg and I went to hell and back to stay together and I don’t want to forget the moments of triumph that we experienced. I don’t regret that I left those people behind. I don’t miss fear, weakness, helplessness, and a life without hope. I had discovered new qualities in myself. I thank the Universe for bringing me and Meg together, and I thank Meg for reaching out to me through distance and time. I am happy to be who I am and I am lucky to come into a society where I don’t have to hide. I know there are women in Russia who are forced into marriage, who have to hide who they are, and who can’t be with the person they love. I wish them the strength and hope to continue living and to have their needs fulfilled.
