I constantly ask myself, “What am I running after?” Why do I always feel the need to chase something that often isn’t even important or won’t make any real difference?

Of course, we all have responsibilities. But why does it feel like I’ve put them on a pedestal? They’ve taken over a part of my subconscious, and I don’t know how to let them go. That feeling of waking up in the morning carries so much pressure that it has become a habit in my body - like an internal alarm telling me I must react immediately.

I had a realization a few days ago while walking to university. In front of me were my classmates, moving slowly, enjoying the beautiful weather, while I was rushing in panic, walking quickly so I wouldn’t be late for class. The funniest part? They were walking at their own pace, no rush at all. They even stopped for a few minutes to chat with friends, and still arrived on time. Meanwhile, I was rushing and pressuring myself for no reason, when I could have taken it slow and still made it on time.

That moment told me everything I needed to know.

In this fast-paced world, we unconsciously start speeding up our own movements, thinking that if we don’t do more, we won’t accomplish anything. And when we don’t manage to do everything, we punish ourselves and our sense of worth begins to fall. We start believing that our value depends on how much we can get done in a day. And if we don’t finish everything, we criticize ourselves, calling ourselves worthless, lazy, or failures. It becomes a vicious cycle.

But the “rat race” takes more than it gives.

The more we push ourselves, rush through tasks, and say “I’ll rest after I finish this,” the more anxious and exhausted we become. Anxiety settles in and eventually turns into burnout. Our bodies give us quiet signals, but we’ve learned to ignore them. Still, they’re there. That panic inside your body is telling you to slow down. That exhaustion is telling you to stop and rest. That nervousness is telling you to do something that calms and soothes you.

Your body is communicating with you but we’ve learned to live more in our minds than in our bodies.

And that’s where your body becomes essential.

The lost art of being in your body.

The way to counter the fast pace of life is to be more present in your body. Your body actually holds more emotions than your mind, and you’ll realize that if you truly take the time to listen to it. Your body forces you into the present moment, being in that uncomfortable silence and allowing your mind to disconnect from external noise.

Being in touch with your body forces you to look inward.

Your body doesn’t ask about your assignment due on Friday, how you’ll get to work without a car, or whether you’ll manage to clean your room.

Your body simply asks you to be present, with all your emotions.

For many people, that can be uncomfortable. It certainly is for me. It still feels uncomfortable when I take the time to check in with how I feel and how my body feels. Sometimes I feel restless because I’m not used to truly feeling my body.

It was shocking to realize how much of a stranger I am to my own body.

How little I actually know it, how it sends me signals when something isn’t right, how it warns me when I’m about to get sick, how my chest aches when something hurts me emotionally. I’m still learning, but somehow it has helped me slow down.

To be alive is to be present.

You feel alive when you’re not constantly thinking about what you have to do in a few hours, because you are living now, not in the future. It’s easy to get caught up in what needs to be done instead of noticing what you are doing right now. Of course you won’t feel alive if your mind is focused only on future events.

It’s easy to forget that the present moment truly exists.

Focusing on your body helps you slow down. It allows you to take a moment to feel your heartbeat, your breathing. It forces you to stop and simply be.

Without thinking about what comes next, but just being.

The world constantly focuses on what’s coming next, but the greatest gift is what we have right now. It gives us the opportunity to understand our existence and to appreciate what we have in this moment. It’s the only thing that is guaranteed.

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I’m glad that together we can sit and have a chat about friendships. To talk about human experiences and to show you my lillies of the valley.

So let’s get comfortable.

I know I’m doing something right in this life if my friendships are so fulfilling. If I can explain my female friendships - it tastes and feels like the sun. Full of hope and life.

In my life I had a lot of friendships. In high school I had so many friend groups, each friend was different. It was simple and natural - filled with easy joy and inside jokes. One of the hardest lessons I had to experience is the break up of friendships. It’s easier when friendships distance and stray in other directions. It leaves a silent ache that is hard to erase away but it feels like it’s destined to be, for each boat to sail in other directions. But in this friendship break up I had to be the first to sail away. I knew these people my whole life, so many memories and moments would wash away if I cut the cord. And it terrified me how the distance started to grow. At the end I grasped all my courage and broke the friendship with 2 of the best people I knew back then, sadly they didn’t fit in my life anymore. It felt like I was playing an old version of myself in front of them (man, I didn’t even know that I changed so much back then). As wonderful people they were, they understood and tears had been shed for the time we spent together. It was bittersweet, something I believe is so rare to exist but it did.

In each of my friendships, whether good or bad, something was left within me. Every person who was once in my life left a piece of themselves in my heart. To me, that is the greatest treasure life can give.

When I started college something shifted in me. I wished to taste the depth and the truth of real friendships. It’s true in my eyes that when you start to look at yourself deeply and truthfully, other relationships will follow along. It’s like the seeds you plant that through time grow only with the water and nourishment you give. And with enough care and truth I started to realise who actually is worth my time and who isn’t. Biggest breakthrough was on my 19th birthday. I called many of my friends (who I thought were my friends), but they ditched me last second. It hurt but opened my eyes to see some of these people weren’t there for me like I was for them. At that time I broke up my toxic relationship too, so at that time I thought everything around me was falling apart (now I think it has actually opened the door to new beginnings).

True Friendships

They flow so naturally like water itself. So much warmth I felt wasn’t from romance but friendships. Friendship in many ways will feel like mirrors, reflecting you and the other person. They show you your truth, and when you need a helping hand, they are there. After releasing friendships and relationships that weren’t for me, the friends that stayed started to grow exponentially in closeness. I couldn’t believe that there is a possibility for such closeness and connection at that time. It felt too sweet, my heart sometimes couldn’t take it all in.

After having many friend groups now I have 3 friends. And believe me I wouldn’t change a thing or my girls. Each of my friends is different but our morals and look on the world are very similar. My friend N and I sometimes go through similar situations at the same time, as if we are growing and learning our lessons together. My friend T could be one of my platonic soulmates, how much through our 10 years of friendship we still get closer to each other every day. And my cousin K has such a wonderful and intelligent mind I know she will do extraordinary wonders in this world.

All of my girls have such great hearts, positive minds and deep souls. Their struggles don’t define them, they shape them however they want, and they fight for what they believe is right. Their looks on this world are unique in their own being. Their souls are like gold to me, and in them I see so many wonderful possibilities. To me they are my real sisters. The ones who showed me what true love is. They are my biggest cheerleaders. Their support is more important than any other, because they were here for me since the beginning. I love to make them smile, to heal their pain or erase their sorrows. Their hugs are filled with so much closure that says “I’m here for you girl”. To help them is my greatest accomplishment.

And my girls will always have a helping hand, a soft hug and a joke that comes from within me, in the truest and purest form of love.

They make my life and memories fulfilling, I’m beyond grateful that I didn’t give up or close my heart to the world. Because if I did I wouldn’t know my girls.

Now, happiness is simple and young with them. Even if we have our own lives we choose to find time to be in each other’s presence. And slowly, I’m opening my heart for more people to come into my life. And if that doesn’t make life rich, I wouldn’t know it differently.

With all my warmth and love,

Marija.

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In the following months, love started coming more naturally than ever before in my entire life. It comes naturally in life’s moments, for example like the way the sun rises showing a new day, the blooming of flowers, how I made my friend laugh and then cry because I bought her favorite plushie. Many moments are filled with so much warmth that tears of happiness come to my eyes because simple moments have become so beautiful. In those moments, I ask myself – where did everything change? How did the small moments, the ones I didn’t even pay attention to before, suddenly turn into something that fulfills not only my day, but in some way my whole life? On that path, I took many wrong turns, but now I can finally say that I have a true picture of what love actually looks like.

I will best express the definition of love through ancient Greek philosophy, because in their expression they divide love into different aspects, not just one whole spectrum, and by doing so (bravo, Greeks) they explain the meaning of love in the best way.

According to ancient Greek philosophy, there are several key types of love:

Eros (Έρως): passionate, sexual love or intense physical attraction. It is named after the god Eros and is often associated with intense excitement.

Agape (Αγάπη): the highest form of love; selfless, unconditional love for others, often connected with love for humanity or divine love. It is love that gives without expecting anything in return.

Philia (Φιλία): friendly love, gentle affection and deep respect between friends. It is based on mutuality and shared interests.

Storge (Στοργή): family love, natural affection, such as the love between parents and children.

Ludus (Λούδος): playful love, flirting and light romance.

Pragma (Πράγμα): long-lasting, rational love based on commitment, understanding, and shared goals.

Philautia (Φιλαυτία): love for oneself, which can be positive (self-respect) or negative (selfishness).

In this piece, my focus will be on Philautia – self-love, which in my experience allows the greatest sense of fulfillment not only within myself, but also in all the other forms of love I mentioned.

Our first contact with love and the development of how we perceive it comes through our parents. They are our first example of what love actually looks like – what is shown through their actions shapes what we consider normal and subjectively “right.” That is why many people who experience emotional or physical abuse within the family have a high chance of repeating that cycle, especially in romantic relationships. The reason for this is desensitization to extreme stress and the improper functioning of the nervous system. Our nervous system reacts based on patterns we develop over time, especially in childhood where our most important development happens. If the nervous system was exposed to too much stress in childhood, unfortunately that becomes integrated, and it takes time (along with therapy and recovery) to bring it back to proper functioning.

For many people (including myself), we unconsciously carry those bad habits that come from our nervous system, and we repeat that cycle in other relationships – whether platonic or romantic.

All of this reflects the way love is shown through our parents, but that does not mean we have to carry those bad habits and express love incorrectly just because our parents continued doing the same.

I think many people get stuck in that phase where they unconsciously carry those habits from a dysregulated nervous system and end up in two situations: either they stay the same and make no changes, or they don’t know where to go next. Which is completely normal, because if no one showed you healthy techniques, how would you know where to take the right step? I was stuck there for a long time too, but the lessons I got from those experiences were necessary for me to find my path (I tend to learn things the hard way, unfortunately).

The first thing I will say – alcohol, smoking, ignoring your feelings (I tried it – it only makes things worse), intense exercising, or “locking in” until you become a shell of yourself that feels nothing, or even self-hatred (you are not at fault, so don’t punish yourself) will not help you. I’ve tried all of these, and they only led me into dead ends where I had to start all over again. So if you don’t want to waste your time and your health, it’s better not to try any of these options.

So how do you fix your bad habits or regulate your nervous system? What is the right option? I will connect that with Philautia (Φιλαυτία): self-love, and how I managed to find it, through several pieces of advice that helped me and experiences connected to them.

1. Nature can be your best medicine, truly.

At the age of 16, I finally experienced my first sense of self-love and connection, and that was through nature and its beauty. During the summer in my dad’s hometown, surrounded by fields and pure nature, doors of hope and my first touches of happiness opened for me. I remember walking a lot and allowing myself to feel those heavy emotions that followed me through childhood. It was a long process, but it was my first real contact with myself and the first planting of self-love.

2. Distance yourself as much as possible from those who gave you a distorted image of love.

I can’t say I completely removed my parents from my life, but through small steps I’ve been distancing myself more and more, and that has brought positive changes to my mental health and my ability to heal. I have the privilege of living separately from them, but there is still contact. In those moments, I keep conversations minimal. The most important thing I learned is that they are also people doing the best they know (this does not justify abuse, of course – you have the right and you should distance yourself if the abuse continues, if possible, or seek help), and that holding hatred in your heart only harms you more than it helps.

3. Support from your friends is essential, and add your favorite artist into the mix.

Friendships are one of my greatest treasures, not only because they make me happy, but because they showed me what a healthy relationship looks like and what a real family is. They allowed me to feel what a warm hug and genuine support truly are. When you find those kinds of friends, hold onto them and be there for them as they are for you. Also, if you have a favorite singer or artist who brings you hope and inspiration, that can be a form of support too. When I walked in nature, I listened to Aurora, and I can say her music gave me a sense of peace when I needed it the most.

4. You have to sit with all your emotions. Even the most uncomfortable ones are the most important.

There were times in my life when I did everything to avoid feeling my emotions. But in the end, they always find you – you can’t run away from them. What helped me was allowing them to flow through me, whether they were quiet or intense. Facing them is not easy and is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. But it is a skill that develops. Over time, the person in the mirror will no longer be a stranger or an enemy, but a friend.

5. If you have the privilege to go to therapy, use it.

With the support of my best friend, I took the step to start therapy. At first, it was an uncomfortable process, but over time I began to see real progress within myself and steps toward healing and experiencing true happiness and love around me. I am incredibly grateful for that, and I’m still in shock that I have the opportunity to grow and work on myself.

6. Find a healthy way to express your emotions, whether through drawing, singing, or writing.

I do all three, and I can say that you become more connected with yourself when you take the time to express yourself in different ways. Being a creative person is, in many ways, both a сure and a blessing. That doesn’t mean you have to be a “creative person” to do these things, but moving your body and mind in a healthy way leads to understanding your strengths and weaknesses, contributing to a better understanding of yourself. Plus, you create a space where your emotions can be acknowledged.

7. Your longest and truest companion is yourself.

You are born alone and you die alone. You will spend your entire life with yourself, so why not make that experience enjoyable? In the end, the relationship you have with yourself will reflect in all your other relationships – whether platonic, romantic, or family. Everything inside will reflect on the outside. Life will feel more enjoyable the more free and open when you feel it within yourself.

8. Be gentle with yourself, truly.

None of these steps will work if you don’t give yourself a chance. If you don’t allow yourself to make mistakes, to fall back into old patterns, but still try again. Even a child who learned how to walk had to fall many times. It’s okay to fall, it’s okay to make mistakes, it’s okay to be bad at something because over time you become better – imperfections are part of us. In those moments, find patience and support, and when you fall, find the strength to try again.

What does the other side look like?

I can say that the relationship I’ve been building with myself for the past 6 years has been getting stronger every single day. There are still many steps ahead in finding Philautia (Φιλαυτία) – self-love – but these were my beginnings. Last Christmas, I had a realization that I had reached a place in life that my younger version of me had dreamed of almost her entire life. There were many tears of happiness because I am beyond grateful that I reached a point in life where I can say I made it. Where I shine and bloom every day. Where I bring happiness and care to the people I love. Where my health is at its best and nothing hurts. There are still moments when it’s not easy, but I am finally at a place where, wherever I go, I have faith in myself and enough courage to follow my heart.

With lots of love and happiness,
Marija.

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I would love to touch your hearts while we are sitting on the couch, talking about the world and how I wish to grant clarity in a world that takes more than it gives. To bring a seed into a life rather than to dry it up. Don’t be afraid to look at the sorrow, be brave to face the struggle. And know that in this world, comfort is closer than you think. So let’s get comfortable.

If I could take all the world’s pain, I would without hesitation, knowing I would die in a world that is finally alright. There is this extreme sorrow that wants to spill out of my chest, it aches to rip out of me. I can’t make sense of it, I can’t even grasp it in my hands. It’s here like a heavy blanket.

For the past few days I have felt emotionally exhausted. Maybe it’s how the world’s selfish hands keep taking all the beauty that it has, or maybe it’s how many souls are getting buried under it. My mind is like static on a TV that can’t run its channels anymore. I am dreaming of a life that tastes clean in my mouth, where my lungs don’t suffocate under the pressures of humanity. But that life feels like a distant dream that, under all the guns and bombs, keeps getting further away day after day.

If I could hold all the suffering souls, I would, gently in my hands. I would take their pain with me. I would be their anchor in a world that wishes to drown them. Their last presence would not go unnoticed by me. I would listen to their stories, from before the sky was filled with warplanes and bombs. When their homes were still standing, with green grass and sweet dates. When laughter was heard and expected like a friend — a lost friend that has now changed the body into sorrow and death.

I would be there, like the quiet sound of the morning. Always there, never changing.

I would wear their scars, be their voice and their heart. Maybe the world would then choose to hear them. Maybe kindness would finally be chosen. But the world loves to choose its guns, bombs, rockets, and tanks rather than compassion, empathy, understanding, and the quiet presence that leads to comfort.

As the world goes on, as it always does, in silence I hear the bravest souls who are haunted by the gruesome war. And I listen to their pain, their dreams, their lives before the destruction took them. And I hope, I grieve, I wonder — but most importantly I act, because it’s the least I can do.

With all my love and softness,
Marija

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It is just us, while everything around us becomes blurred, muted, switched off — the only focus is someone’s eyes and the way they send shivers through parts of your body you never knew could feel that way. A touch created by melodies across your skin. Instruments playing within a dimly lit room. A quiet awareness not only of the person beside you, but of yourself as well.

Sometimes it is hard for me to lie alone in a room; I long for another body pressed against mine. To feel the warmth of another person, their scent lingering even after they have left. A secret known only to me — proof that they were here and left something behind.

To know I can spark reactions with my touch, that my gaze can ignite something in someone. What I miss most are those lazy kisses that, over time, turn into desperate ones — like flipping a switch, when the rhythm begins and you pray it never stops.

What I love most is what those reckless moments leave behind: the craving for more, the greed for closeness until no distance remains between bodies. In those moments, the body becomes aware, and only then is the mind thrown straight out the window.

That fire we want to let consume us until it finally burns out, leaving only calm and intimacy as the mind slowly begins to understand what has happened over time.

And I love it so much.
I love that kind of connection.

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The idea that submissiveness flows through our genes is another lie—yet for many women it still feels true. It runs through our veins, carried across generations of women who had to depend on men simply to survive. It has been programmed into our minds like the air we breathe—difficult to reset, difficult to untangle, and even harder to fully understand.

There is so much beauty inside our hearts that, whenever we try to express it, patriarchy reaches out and tries to take the words straight from our mouths. And sometimes, it succeeds.

A few days ago I was having coffee with my friends. My friend and I were in the middle of a conversation when suddenly our male friend began speaking, without any warning. Instead of telling him not to interrupt, both of us unconsciously fell silent to listen to what he had to say—as if his words, in that moment, were more important than the conversation we were having, the conversation he had just interrupted.

Yet the question remains—and the truth is—that while patriarchy suffocates women, it suffocates men as well. It reaches deeply into our humanity without us even realizing it.

But like pomegranates, we should be messy. We should leave behind a kind of chaos that is difficult to clean—a stain that is hard to erase. Instead of the lie the world tells us, that we are shallow, we are like pomegranates: full of complexity, something you must work for before discovering the sweetness and beauty inside.

We should leave behind a sweet scent that cannot easily be washed away, a fragrance that lingers on the hands even after they are washed. When someone wants to open us, they should struggle a little. They should need patience and care—because if a person is impatient while opening a pomegranate, they will damage all the seeds inside.

We should be intense, like the taste of a pomegranate when you first bite into it.

But the greatest symbolism of the pomegranate is the mess it leaves behind. Its juice spills selfishly even when you try to cut it carefully. It stains your hands, the table, and sometimes splashes everywhere if you do not open it properly.

And that mess reminds me of how women should be.

Women should create mess instead of being expected to remain neat. They should be memorable instead of forgotten. They should leave traces behind instead of being erased from our world.

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I’ve also been gazing at the sea for a long time, hoping to see dolphins. And today I noticed something large with small fins surfacing, causing the seagulls to panic and fly away. I was in shock watching them deliberately scare the seagulls, and I just wanted to get closer to them. It was a wonderful experience.

As I got closer, a lady who was also watching the dolphins joined me in conversation. It was beautiful how naturally communication with a stranger can flow. I was pleasantly surprised when she approached me to talk. Her name is Renarda, and she is from Bosnia and Herzegovina, just like my parents. She is an elderly lady in her eighties, suffering from tuberculosis that affected her legs, and she also mentioned having vision difficulties. Still, I enjoyed her company while we waited for the rain to stop. I deliberately didn’t want to leave, even after the rain eased, just so I could continue talking with her.

She told me about her son Saša, who is still single and doesn’t want to marry, how she got married in the 1970s, how men are complicated, and about her four miscarriages, which she spoke of with so much sorrow. I gave her the most empathetic look I could at that moment.

As our conversation was coming to an end, her husband Drago arrived with an umbrella, probably worried that Renarda might have gotten wet. With his bent back, he tried to reach us as quickly as possible and, out of breath, sat down on the bench. In the end, I greeted them and wished them all the best.

I paused before returning to the café, always getting a large macchiato. The Adriatic Sea was finally a beautiful shade of blue, contrasted with the gloomy gray of the sky. On the way, a little baby approached me, holding cigarettes from her grandmother, and I couldn’t resist making a joke (even if the child didn’t understand): “Isn’t it a bit early for you to start smoking?” Her grandmother smiled at my comment, while the baby reached out and grabbed a few of my fingers with her tiny hands, wanting me to join her for a walk.

I enjoyed the rest of my coffee while gazing at the sea and felt a deep happiness for the beautiful moments. When I returned home, I found the lilies in full bloom and felt my heart overflowing.

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In the end, that phrase motivates me. Whenever my hope starts to fade, I remember it. I remind myself that within each of us there is a fire that we must learn to turn into a flame. And since I have become quite an ambitious person, hearing it allows me to believe that it’s true.

I can say about myself that I have grown into someone who is not afraid to jump into the unknown. I take risks because I want to experience something new, and I enjoy the sensation even when I fall. Because I know that afterward, I will rise again without a problem.

It wasn’t easy to build that kind of mindset — but it opened doors to opportunities I didn’t even know were possible. I experience more and more things I once thought were impossible. And my heart feels fuller than ever, because I do things even when I feel fear — I go after them anyway. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

In three years, I completely transformed my life. I am in constant change because I make changes daily. The reason for my ambition is the desire to experience life to the fullest, to overcome the obstacles life brings, and to inspire others. To prove that if I succeeded, they can succeed too.

That’s why I must always know within myself — feel that greatness inside me, stay on my path, and in the end show what I am truly made of.

"You got the makings of greatness in you, but you gotta take the helm and chart your own course! Stick to it, no matter the squalls! And when the time comes, you'll get the chance to really test the cut of your sails and show what you're made of! And... well, I hope I'm there, catching some of the light coming off you that day."

- Treasure planet

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Preface

Late one evening, I felt an intense inspiration to educate myself about female pilots. Since childhood, being part of the sky – a white dot in the endless blue – sounded like a symbol of freedom. Something so vast – which for many people brings fear of great heights – can also awaken excitement and the desire to overcome those fears.

I have always been inspired by the sight of flight – that nervous feeling before takeoff, when the airplane leaves the ground and disappears into the vast blue sky. It is incredible how humanity, through our minds and hands, created a machine that allows us to experience what birds have always known.

These women deepened that inspiration within me. Late at night, my mind refused to rest because their lives – indescribably thrilling – showed that truly “life has no limits.” They surpassed what seemed impossible and left an indelible mark behind them.

Jacqueline Cochran

(Jacqueline Cochran, May 11, 1906 – August 9, 1980), known as the “Speed Queen,” woman who learned to fly in just three weeks. She became one of the most accomplished American pilots and the first woman to break the sound barrier on May 18, 1953.

She was also a professional business executive who impressively combined her passion for aviation with the cosmetics industry. She launched her own cosmetic line called Wings to Beauty and flew across the country in her own aircraft to promote her products.

Role During the War

During World War II, she led the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP), which employed around 1,000 American civilian women in non-combat roles. Through this, she not only enabled women to enter the workforce but also opened opportunities for women in aviation and aircraft operations.

She also helped transport American aircraft to Britain and became the first woman to fly a bomber across the Atlantic.

Contributions to Aviation

She competed in major air races in the late 1930s, setting new world records for women. By 1938, she was considered the best female pilot in the United States. She won the Bendix Trophy, set transcontinental speed records and altitude records, and received five Harmon Trophy awards.

At the time of her death, she held more speed, distance, and altitude records than any man or woman pilot in history.

First Woman to Fly Supersonic

After the war, Cochran began flying jet aircraft and set numerous records. In 1952, at age 47, she decided to challenge the women’s world speed record, then held by Jacqueline Auriol.

After being denied the use of an American F-86, she was introduced to a Royal Canadian Air Force vice marshal who arranged for her to borrow a Canadair Sabre 3. On May 18, 1953, encouraged by her longtime friend Chuck Yeager, she flew the Sabre 3 over Rogers Dry Lake in California at an average speed of 652.337 mph, breaking the sound barrier and becoming the first woman to fly supersonically.

Bessie Coleman

Elizabeth “Bessie” Coleman (January 26, 1892 – April 30, 1926), known as “Queen Bess,” was one of the first American civilian female pilots. She was the first African American and the first person of Native American descent to earn a pilot’s license, and the first Black person to obtain an international pilot’s license, awarded on June 15, 1921, by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale.

In Pursuit of Her Dream

At age 23, she moved to Chicago and worked as a manicurist. Inspired by stories of World War I pilots, she developed a strong desire to become a pilot.

Because American flight schools at the time refused women and Black applicants, newspaper publisher Robert S. Abbott encouraged her to study abroad and helped her secure financial support. She studied French and traveled to Paris on November 20, 1920, to earn her pilot’s license.

She flew a Nieuport 564 biplane and returned to the United States as a media sensation.

Air Shows

Since commercial aviation was not yet developed, Coleman became a “barnstorming” pilot, performing acrobatic flights and dangerous maneuvers before large audiences. Her first major performance took place on September 3, 1922, at Curtiss Field on Long Island, honoring the 369th Infantry Regiment of World War I.

She often flew the Curtiss JN-4 “Jenny” and refused to perform at events where African Americans were not allowed entry. She dreamed of founding a flight school for African Americans and actively spoke out against racism and for representation in aviation.

“The air is the only place free from prejudices. I knew we had no aviators, neither men nor women, and I knew the Race needed to be represented along this most important line, so I thought it my duty to risk my life to learn aviation...

– Bessie Coleman

Accident and Death

But when she managed to conquer the skies, in symbiosis with the sky she lost contact. On April 30, 1926, in Jacksonville, Florida, Coleman was preparing for an air show. She was a passenger in a poorly maintained Curtiss JN-4. At approximately 3,000 feet, the aircraft unexpectedly went into a dive and spin.

Because she was not wearing a seatbelt – she had planned a parachute jump – she was thrown from the plane and died from the fall at age 34.

Although she did not live to open her flight school, her pioneering work inspired generations.

As Mae Jemison, the first African American woman astronaut, later said:

“It’s tempting to draw parallels between me and Ms. Coleman . . .[but] I point to Bessie Coleman and say here is a woman, a being, who exemplifies and serves as a model for all humanity, the very definition of strength, dignity, courage, integrity, and beauty.

– Mae Jemison (first African-American
woman astronaut)

Katarina Matanović-Kulenović

(Katarina Matanović-Kulenović, March 18, 1913 – April 24, 2003) was the first Croatian female pilot and parachutist.

Since 1935 she had been a member of the Aeroklub Zagreb, and in 1936 she earned her sports pilot license. In 1938, at the airfield in Zemun, she became the first woman in Southeastern and Eastern Europe to jump from an airplane with a parachute.

Beginning of Her Flying Career

In 1935, she read in Jutarnji list (Croatian newspaper) about the opening of a flight school at Borongaj Airport. Despite the high costs, she joined the aeroclub and helped secure financial supporters for it through her business connections.

She flew for the first time on August 5, 1935, and by the end of August 1936, she had completed her first solo flight. On October 10, 1936, even in very poor weather, she passed her pilot exam with excellent results, becoming the first Croatian woman to earn a pilot’s license.

Parachuting

At the 1938 International Aviation Exhibition in Belgrade, she first jumped from a 100-meter tower with a pre-opened parachute.

On June 5, 1938, she performed a parachute jump from an airplane at an altitude of 1,500 meters, becoming the first Croatian female parachutist. She dislocated her leg upon landing, but this did not diminish her popularity – she was also awarded a military decoration.

Women’s Section of Aeroklub Zagreb

Encouraged by her achievements, she founded the women’s section of Aeroklub Zagreb. On January 29, 1939, she organized a large women’s air show with a prize competition, where the grand prize was a panoramic flight over Zagreb. The response was exceptional – 837 applications were submitted.

In her speech at the air show, she highlighted the beauty and grandeur of flying, encouraging women to participate in aviation.

War Pilot

At the beginning of World War II, she continued flying. On November 15, 1941, she was admitted to the service of the First Aviation Base in Zagreb as a military pilot with the rank of lieutenant.

She flew Italian light two-seater FL-3 aircraft on missions transporting documents, medicines, commanders, and wounded soldiers. She often transported Ante Vokić, who placed great trust in her.

She married journalist Namik Kulenović on May 1, 1942. After the bombing of Borongaj on May 30, 1944, she was injured by bomb shrapnel, and it was soon discovered that she was pregnant. She remained on medical leave until the end of the war and did not fly afterward.

Postwar Period

After the war, on January 29, 1945, she was evicted from her apartment and spent 42 days in prison without charges. Afterwards, she worked for General-Turist in Zagreb.

She later spent ten years in Cologne, Germany, working as a housewife while her son studied painting. On May 26, 1998, she was awarded the Order of Danica Hrvatska with the image of Franjo Bučar, and on November 26, 2001, after 56 years, she was readmitted to Aeroklub Zagreb.

Katarina Matanović-Kulenović is remembered as a pioneer of Croatian aviation and a symbol of women’s courage in the early days of flight. Even after the postwar period, during which she could not fly for 56 years, she inspired many Croatian women to pursue flying and parachuting.

Final Reflection

After learning the life stories of these women – who gave everything in their desire to touch the sky – I could not resist writing about them. They transformed their fiery passion into steps that left an indelible mark on the history of women in aviation.

They proved to me that if you have passion and desire for something, pursue it relentlessly. Nothing should hold you back in those moments, because when you finally succeed, you will be surprised by the legacy you leave behind. Through their achievements, they truly showed that “the sky has no limits.”

References

• Bessie Coleman. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bessie_Coleman

• Jacqueline Cochran. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacqueline_Cochran

• Katarina Matanović-Kulenović. Croatian Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://hr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katarina_Matanović_Kulenović

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But I digress, during these months I have been fighting with myself to finally show the world my passions.

For years, these passions hid in silence, where only my eyes could see them. And I would say I enjoyed having something that was just mine. The passion for writing, drawing, creating poetry flowed naturally from me, without pressure. There was that warm and gentle silence in which only I could indulge. It became a habit—something I would eagerly wait for throughout the day, that time just for me.

When you are a creative person, you carry that intense and special love for your passions. A love that warms every corner of your heart and grows with the effort you give it. And that is why it was so hard to give that part of myself to the world. Because I was afraid that once I showed my work, it would become fragile—that it would break under someone else’s touch. That it was only safe in my own hands, and that it would only stay alive if I held it tightly against my heart.

After dancing carefree in my apartment, to the sound of Scorpions in the background and with a half-empty bottle of Istrian wine, I finally took the step I had been thinking about for months. What I wrote with my pure heart, I let it go for the world to devour.

It wasn’t some grand spectacle—just that quiet feeling of pride that you’ve done something you’ve wanted to do for so long. That thrilling feeling inside you when you accomplish something you didn’t know you could.

And when you share a part of yourself, when you let the world see your heart, the feeling is truly liberating.

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After a few glasses of wine, that passion to do what I love begins to flow through my mind. The desire to show the world what I am made of, without any pity—only to help the world in my own way, through love. I can’t help myself; I find myself praying for anything, anyone, just so my dreams might come true. Like a distant star I desperately want to touch—so close, yet so far away. I prayed for anything that would allow me to achieve what I yearn for so deeply, the very thing that gives me the strength to keep going every day. I have always wanted to help people through my creativity. That idea became clearer in 2024, and I find myself praying on my knees for that wish to come true. Because for the first time in my life, I have found my passion—something I truly want to pursue—and I hope that through my work, it will be realized.

No one prepares you for how to turn your dreams into reality—how to achieve them, and how to continue motivating the people around you. My greatest wish is to give that to others: to help them feel hope in this unpredictable world. To touch at least one soul, to help someone feel less alone. Because in a world that constantly distances itself from the most important connections, it is actually thirstier than ever for connection. And I can only hope that when I heal, when I am ready to show the world my true self, I will be able to give life to what I desire most.

Sometimes I feel the need to imagine myself back in high school. My mind is drawn to that comfortable and simple time when I didn’t really think about anything. I just went to school and, excitedly, went for coffee after classes. I had a big group of friends I no longer hang out with, which doesn’t bother me because it’s just a normal cycle of life—to part ways with people. What I wonder is why, even after so much time has passed, nostalgia still catches up with me.

I can say that I admire that time—lazing around on benches, playing, joking around. How could I not admire it when I enjoyed every single moment? I miss the time when I wasn’t constantly confused, when I simply was. Maybe I miss being naive, still in my own little bubble that was my reality, with my headphones and coffee that I intentionally bought in the morning just so I’d be late to class. Maybe I miss the socializing and how small things felt so big back then. I’ll never really understand it, yet I still long for that time.

Something I read once really opened my eyes: “You can go back to that time, but nothing is waiting for you in the past.” It made me ask myself: why do I want to go back to that time so badly when no one is waiting for me there? I could say it’s out of love—I truly loved high school and all the memories I experienced. I simply felt like it ended too quickly.

Now I’m in my third year of university, and time is passing even faster than it did in high school. I’m sure I’ll miss university too, because I’m enjoying it as well. I’ve realized that as you grow, you keep grieving memories and people more and more. You end up loving them more when they’re absent than when they were by your side. That tells me we should love people as much as we can while they’re still present. All that love is inside me, and I don’t know where to put it.