She steps onto the road — wild, fierce.

The wind touches her skin with the tenderness of a first love, carrying the soft scent of floral perfume.

She looks elegant, confident, unshaken.

She knows her power, her strengths; she knows her goals and her weaknesses.

She used to be different. Vulnerable.

Hard work made her free — but every hard-earned freedom comes with a price,

and she has accepted that imperfection is part of becoming.

In the metal frame of the vintage car, she can lean out the window, let her hair flow,

and inhabit her triumph to the sound of the cold Baltic Sea.