An Intentional Manifesto Of Love & Gratitude
For the past few months, I have been fascinated not only by hate but also by the simple act of being grateful for parts of my life. This reflective method, which I implemented after learning about its success from a Harvard teacher whose research shows that regularly practicing gratitude creates a happier and more appreciative environment, should do the opposite of what the manifesto of hate is doing. Instead of tearing feelings away from life, it should build a positive impact and, therefore, make me happier. I plan to document this journey in detail, observing how the two books—one focused on hate, the other on gratitude—interact and influence each other.
Of course, I have already started preparing a list of things I love and am deeply grateful for.
Number One Is Those Two:
I am beyond grateful to have Emo in my life, and that we took our dog Bobi and now care for him as if we gave birth to him or something. Sometimes I even feel a bit embarrassed when someone overhears how much I talk to my dog, the things I say to him, or how I treat him like my child. But then, I see others smiling when they witness my outpouring of love—those uncontrollable moments of kisses and hugs, even in the middle of the street. I can’t help myself. For parents of children or for partners without kids, it might sound insane—and perhaps it is. Even I think that sometimes. But who cares? I love these two so much.
It took time to get to this point. Relationships require work, but no one has ever shown me as much love without words as Emo and Bobi have. They are the main reasons I began this gratitude process, and they keep me holding on to it.
I was able to quit smoking
The fact that I successfully stopped after so many failed attempts means a lot to me. Even those failures weren’t meaningless; most of them were simply stepping stones, preparing me for the finish line, which is now over two years of not smoking. October 25th marks the day I stopped, and while it becomes less significant to track the exact date, I never let my guard down. I don’t play with the thought of starting again. Quite the opposite, as I often remind myself that at least I don’t have kids, which serves as a great calming mantra. This feeling is connected with a powerful sense of pride that comes from knowing I’m not smoking right now. Boy, that was a trip.
A lot of the times I felt like a loser when I failed to finish what I started. But soon after, I found strength to reach out for that motivation, climb out of self-pity and hate, and change my circumstances, becoming my own hero. It was hard to leave that victim mentality and step into the role of the hero of my own story, and in many aspects of my life, I found it much harder. But we get up, dust ourselves off, and continue trying. This is the power of human motivation and the achievements we conquer when we believe we deserve them.
Every now and then, I feel down, depressed, and utterly useless. But the fact that I overcame one of my greatest enemies and keep him at bay is one of the most powerful reminders of who I am and how strong I am when I believe in it. Now, I feel grateful for every breath since I stopped smoking. I often take a deep breath, just like I used to with my bad habit, inhaling fresh air deeply and exhaling like a pro. That breath of fresh air, my new ‘smoking,’ feels pretty satisfying, and every time I do it, I’m reminded of what I accomplished and how powerful I am.
I stopped smoking with Allen Carr’s book. You can read more about my experience with it here. If you ask me what my favorite book of all time is, the one that changed my life, I will definitely say Allen Carr's Easy Way to Stop Smoking.
My Ears
I just took a quiet shower and was able to think, which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like. On the contrary, I feel I think less and less these days due to external noise. Sometimes it’s because I’m listening to music, TV, an audiobook, or even just your irritating voice. But now, I found these precious moments to let my thoughts flow.
I thought about my ears. The sound of water splashing on my body felt like music. Immediately, my mind wandered to a scenario where I couldn’t hear anything and how much louder my voice would become. I know I sound loud—I’ve always known. In that sense, I am my father’s son. We both sometimes shout, unable to gauge the right volume for the room.
Despite the damage I’ve already done to my ears, I felt grateful that I can still hear. I imagined how, if my hearing were gone, I’d have to rely on memory to recreate music. That thought made me appreciate the gift of hearing even more.
Even now, as I hear the sound of my fingers tapping the keys to share this with you, it feels playful and enjoyable. I love that I can hear music—and even your irritating voice; sometimes, it sounds like a melody. I love hearing birds in the early morning when I walk with Bobi. I love hearing my family and friends, those who are still here.
I’m thankful that my ears allow me to learn another language and, because of that, follow the immense opportunities this path provides.
Born This Way, Making Choices, Finding Community
It’s so easy to lose track of things. While thinking about what I’m thankful for, I opened my messages and almost drained all my creativity there. By the end of the texting, if I hadn’t seen the computer on, I probably would’ve continued with my life, completely forgetting the flow. And now here I am, with the TV on and a phone blasting yet another reaction video. What’s up with these reaction videos—are they just entertainment\distraction, or is there something deeper?
An interesting conversation is sparking on my messenger about the collective consciousness we share on this planet. The closest we’ve come to experiencing it might be the creation of the internet and everything that followed. It’s almost as if we act like separate particles of a larger mind—we move, make choices, cancel people, grieve, and laugh simultaneously, sharing this planet. Today, my particle feels grateful for the privilege of living in a country where it’s okay to be born the way I am. I often forget how much of a privilege my life is, especially when I feel unlucky. But I’m the hero of this scenario, so I tell myself: Lucky, lucky, lucky. Like Joan Rivers said, we don’t know bad times until they hit us. So until then: lucky, lucky, lucky.
A couple of weeks ago, we watched Tom of Finland, and I finally learned who he was. Even though Emo owns a giant book about his art and we have some of his sketches on our walls, it was nice to dive deeper into his contribution to our community. Being reminded of the past...
I’m grateful for my creativity and resilience—my ability to overcome obstacles and prejudices, to evolve, and to get back up when I fail. Every failure is a chance to grow. Hate is a sign of weakness and low self-esteem, and I’m thankful I recognize that and choose to fight it with empathy. Like I said, it’s easy to lose track of things. At least I circle around gratitude—thankful for being gay in Germany, living my truth, and soon embracing it to the fullest. As for homophobes and anti-gay countries, the best I can do is not invest time or money there. I laughed today at a Margaret Cho's joke: “People who hate gays usually don’t know any. And then she continued on the topic about same-sex marriage—let’s just not tell them.” Hilarious, such a good morning, to start with stand-up show.
I’m considering starting a podcast, though everyone seems to have one. Maybe I should think about the next form of communication before paid ads destroy it. I’m also thankful for the opportunities gay dating apps and social media provide, but I know I can use my time more meaningfully—like appreciating my life here instead of subconsciously destroying my value by comparing myself to others. I’m grateful for that choice and for being born this way. I need to remind myself more often how fortunate I am to live in a country where I have the same rights as everyone else and feel a sense of community with my neighbors. It’s ironic—I’ve always heard Germans are cold and distant, yet my two German families downstairs are the best neighbors I’ve ever had.
To Those Who Introduced Me to Music
Listening to the greatest song of all time on a loop today, High Hopes from Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell album, evoked a flow of emotions, especially the instrumental at the end. It made me think about the girl who introduced me to them, leading to a river of memories of the people who introduced me to vital artists that touched my soul. Through their art, we communicated and connected, and our memories became encapsulated in it—fields of emotions ready to explode somewhere down the pipeline.
This happens every time I hear certain songs. The first is, of course, High Hopes. The second most powerful contributor to this flood is Sunset by Kate Bush. These two songs belong to a unique category of significance and power. How amazing is it that David Gilmour discovered Kate Bush and supported her in her journey to excellence? I am so thankful to the people who introduced me to these artists and their work.
Today, my memories wandered back to that girl from my childhood. I met her again in my 20s, and she showed me Pink Floyd and ruined my life—in the best, most transformative way possible. Or to that friend who first played Wuthering Heights during one of my endless nights. And then there’s Emo, who introduced me to Aerial, one of Kate Bush’s albums that completely blew me away and expanded my perception of music and exploration. I’ll never forget the time we went to Holland, and during an incredible mushroom trip, the second part of Aerial, An Endless Sky of Honey, played for 45 minutes. Kate Bush’s imitation of birdsong was so funny and lovely that actual birds around us started responding to her. It was an unforgettable moment in an already extraordinary adventure.
Adventures are always intertwined with music, emotions, and connections. There’s no way I can listen to these songs without venting the feelings they stir. These connections remain alive every time I play the songs, even if I’ve long lost touch with the people who shared them with me. Forever and always, they will evoke positive memories and emotions, and for that, I’m endlessly thankful.
Also, I want to once again thank my ears.
Learning New Stuff and Overcoming Challenges
As with every day this week, when the clock struck 1 o’clock, I went for a run. But today was slightly different. There’s this one pair of sweatpants that lost their drawstring years ago. I usually save them for short walks or indoor leisure activities. Running in wintery, wet weather, though, left me with no choice but to learn how to reinstall a drawstring into sweatpants—and fast.
"Fast" is a generous word because the process took me about 40 minutes, a bit of ChatGPT, a couple of angry outbursts, and the most unusual tools to get the job done. But after three attempts, I finally installed the damn thing. High on the feeling of accomplishment, I went for my run, laughing my ass off like a crazy person. I’d just learned something through memory and trial and error.
Smiling and unwilling to lose this feeling, I debated whether to play some Evanescence during the run. Instead, I decided to strengthen my focus by running without music. During this weirdly quiet run—where I could hear my breathing, the rustling of my clothes, and the sound of my steps on the ground—I felt a deep sense of gratitude. I was grateful to be open to learning, motivated to finish a task, and committed to following up on the goals I’d set for myself the day before.
And then it hit me: I’m actually pretty good at the things I care about. I get what I want. Sure, my track record of "wants" might be questionable, but when I truly focus on something, I get it. Some things have slipped away while I was convinced I wanted them—but did I really want them? Probably not.
I’m grateful for the things that flew away and for my extreme determination to pursue what I truly desire. This small accomplishment—rethreading a drawstring—reminded me of my excellence and it brought back the realization of just how effective I can be whenever I’m focused.
Also, a big shoutout to my super strong and sexy body, as well as my unwavering will to overcome challenges. 💪
An Endless Sky of Honey
I know it’s early to celebrate, and I always need to stay vigilant about my weaknesses, but I want to take a moment to appreciate that I woke up fresh as a daisy, ready to conquer the day. Everything feels so clear—what I need to do and the endless possibilities ahead. I love my body and am deeply grateful for my mind and the people around me.
Lately, since gaining clarity, I’ve started to notice potential friends here and there. I even reached out to some people I had lost touch with to check in on them, and it feels wonderful. I’m recharging my battery instead of running on 1%. Ideas are already percolating, and my craving for entertainment and art is enormous.
I made incredible pancakes today, and we’re dedicating some time to learning new things—it feels so refreshing and uplifting. Why did I ever go through life with my eyes closed, numb? I still can’t figure out how a whole year could pass by without much happening, only to see everything clearly after waking up.
At least I met some special people during that time, one in particular, all full of potential and ready to become friends. I’m grateful for that dream-like state, but I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be awake until I finally got up. I’m so thankful for this journey and for meeting these vibrant, different, and lively people. I woke up just in time.
My Eyes
Speaking of awakening, I must declare that my eyes, though a bit damaged, still possess the power to see. What a gift that is, and how on earth do I not wake up every morning grateful for it? I can witness the sunrise and watch birds walking on the icy lake instead of swimming. Some of them think they’re landing on water, but when their feet touch the ice, they start tap dancing until they slow down from their flight.
The snow sparkles in the sunlight, making the world look brighter and cleaner. The books I’ve read, and the one I started today, open up new worlds and teach me something new. To navigate through my playlist, I needed not only my ears—though they certainly enjoy it—but my eyes helped me choose Debussy.
As I write this, I realize that I don’t need my eyes for the act of gratitude itself, but with them, it feels easier. Food tastes better too—the fried chicken from yesterday or the tea and coffee I made this morning. My nose enjoys them, but my eyes helped me prepare them so efficiently that I now have time to read and write.
These beautiful blue eyes of mine, both of them. I notice a change in myself, and for that, my eyes aren’t strictly necessary. Yet I am deeply thankful for them; they’ve made everything easier, more enjoyable, and undeniably beautiful.
When we watch a movie or stay at home watching Breaking Bad, when I see my dog Bobi sleeping, my heart melts. Sometimes, when I walk into the bedroom, he’s lying on the bed like a child, his head resting on the pillow. Or when he glances at me from the woven chair on our enclosed balcony, looking like The Girl with a Pearl Earring. It fills my heart and makes me appreciate the sweetness of life. And when I see him, his beautiful eyes gazing at me, it’s as if he’s sending a wave of oxytocin my way.
Or when I look at my lover, his deep brown, almost black eyes, and his fit, hairy body, I see how he looks at me when he’s full of desire.
I’m utterly in love with what my eyes allow me to see.
Sauna
During my childhood and while living in a small city where there were only three gay people, COVID, and especially last year, I developed this anxious part of myself—unable to go out and just talk to another person in a normal manner in a social setting. I discovered that I love being one-on-one with someone, and it was incredibly fun, but this ongoing isolation lasted for so long that it became my reality—a reality that I needed to escape in order to change.
Last weekend, after almost four years in Germany, I found my courage and went to a gay sauna in Köln. It was something I personally had to overcome—my shyness, my panic, my fears—but I did it. The first time is always the hardest, but now that I have had the experience, I feel open to so many possibilities. I have become more social.
During my visit, I met some people I liked, and now I am going out with a couple of guys, reminding myself what normality feels like. Having conversations with people is no longer something I run from; instead, I face them straight on. And even if it’s cringe, I don’t miss the chance to congratulate myself on how much better I am doing. It’s normal sometimes—especially in a different language—to have those awkward moments, and they are not as scary as they once seemed.
So much of my life I spent in rooms with just one person, afraid to try new things. But now, I feel like trying something new every single day. I even made it a challenge that I follow. I push myself to do things I don’t like in order to expand my willpower and strengthen the part of my brain responsible for that. I see changes in myself every single day, and spontaneity is making its way back into my daily life.
I really feel blessed because I woke up. Now, I visit new restaurants and plan—or don’t plan—exciting new experiences. Life is great when you face your fears and kick them in the ass.
My Teeth
The other day, I went to my dentist. My last visit was probably 4-5 months ago; I don’t really remember. This January feels like the only month that has no end. Am I right? The dentist and his colleague spoke to each other in their dentist German, with some Slavic accent, and after they did their thing, they concluded that I didn’t need anything and that my teeth were in great shape. Do you know that feeling? I didn’t. There was always something to be done with my teeth, and before that, in my childhood, I even lost two of them due to procrastination and lack of parental control. But now, after the brutal last year and all the sugar I’ve consumed in the past few months, there was nothing to be done. My teeth were perfect. Perfect. I am so thankful and filled with gratitude & love that I learned how to take care of them, and through a lot of practice, I proved to myself that it was worth it.
Lady Gaga
You know, 4 years ago Gaga released "Stupid Love" on my birthday, one of the last, if not the last, social events before the pandemic, and she blew me away with that gift. Yesterday, she released a teaser for her new album, Mayhem, which is coming on the 7th of March. I heard there was a chance that the album would drop on my birthday, which is the 28th of February, in case you didn’t figure it out yet. But the 7th of March is still a pretty close date, and I just can't wait. I'm about to order the vinyl, the merch, everything, and I’m pretty ready for her next concert, even though I know only two songs from the album so far. This girl, who became a woman in front of us, with us, just really carried my life musically. She is just a presence, one of those I'm grateful to experience, who makes life easier and sweeter. I will eventually add some other artists here, but Gaga, on my list, from Just Dance, you have always been number one.
Laugh & Jokes
This won't be the last time I write about this, but yesterday I was listening to the audiobook by Arthur Brooks and Oprah, and the author, who is ridiculously sexy older fox, told one joke in such a funny way that I laughed my ass off throughout the day every time I reminded myself of it.
"When I die, I want to go peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather, not like his passengers."
Amy Winehouse
Today, I started watching for the second time the biopic that won an Oscar about Amy Winehouse. I recently watched Back to Black and was reminded of how beautiful this artist was. I thought to myself: If I could resurrect one person magically—although I am so thankful for her music and spirit that still travels across the globe—I would resurrect Winehouse. She is one of those artists I would have loved to see grow, just like Gaga is doing right now in front of us. Can you imagine what music could have come out of her if she were still among the living? So thankful for overcoming those demons and leaving them behind, and so thankful for Amy’s music and unapologetic creativity that still inspires me.
Prosecco
My life is sweet, baby—you can't imagine. I have so much! I have experienced so much! My life is rich and full of energy. Last week, I watched Schindler’s List and The Pianist for the first time while waiting for The Brutalist to be released digitally. I am not watching a three-hour movie in a cinema unless it is Avatar or a Marvel spectacle, and I am not even a smoker anymore. Three hours seems like a lot in a cinema without the sci-fi elements.
I told you my life is sweet—I have these fucking choices that I take for granted on a daily basis. And yesterday, while I almost cried out loud watching The Pianist, eating a fucking cheesecake, and remembering the horrors I witnessed in Schindler’s List a week ago, it hit me. I am a whiny bitch.
Both movies follow the evolution of the Jewish horrors inflicted by the Nazis. I also remembered this guy I dated who thought that maybe Hitler was right. Can you imagine thinking such a thing? I corrected him a couple of times, but what I should have done was force him to watch these two movies. When the Nazis threw the grandpa, who was in a wheelchair, off the balcony, and his skull cracked on the pavement, painting it red, accompanied by the screams of the observers—I screamed. My ‘no’s echoed the whole night watching Schindler’s List and later The Pianist.
Both movies, I assume, follow the truth very closely because, in today’s times, if you pick a serious subject like this and go off reality, public opinion will crush you. So I assume these two movies did their research well in order to portray the horrors so vividly. It hit me yesterday. I took out the prosecco and stopped to enjoy the food in front of me, reminding myself how lucky I am and how much I love my life—while on my screen, little kids were being killed or perished from the brutal hunger that almost destroyed the Jewish people after the Nazis began their Holocaust.
When Schindler finally realized that he could have saved two more lives for the cost of his ring and ten more for his car—Is there a more profound message that needs to be consumed? When the pianist was caught opening the pickles by the German officer, who never told anyone about him, and instead listened to his music that pierced his soul, opening his mind and making him finally admit the inflicted horror—showing humanity?
Cheers to the creators of these two movies who were able to share these messages and tell these stories. Both movies brought me to tears and really opened my eyes to so many horrors. There is nothing more I want than to cherish my life today—my apartment, my freedom, my families, my dog, my friends, and my possibilities. I am blessed. No complaints.
My Bike
Speaking of possibilities—my father, the cool guy he is now, bought me a bike for my birthday. I am 32, and I can afford the bike, but he insisted. I decided to let him do it because I felt how good he would feel doing this deed. So now I have a bike, and I’ll ride it every day. I love it. So thankful for it, so thankful for my father—despite the man he was under the influence of alcohol and gambling, he is now a decent person who deserves forgiveness, and I am giving it. Not because of the fucking bike—the bike was just a way to communicate with him. I forgive him because I missed him in my life, and I am happy that he has a role in it now.
My Legs
The other day, I took part in a 10km run, where I ran better than 13 years ago, when I thought I was in my prime, starting with physical activities. Now, I ran 10km in 50 minutes and 50 seconds, beating my last two half-marathons from 2023 and 2024, and little by little, preparing myself to take on a whole damn marathon.
There is a joke that says: “Do you know how to tell if a friend of yours has participated in a marathon? Don’t worry, they’ll tell you.” Bitch, I used to hold back on the things I was proud of to avoid being perceived as an idiot. But if you know how much work it is and how much it means to me—why the hell would I remain silent about it? I fucking rock the house down, boots. And these challenges in the form of a run that I conquer are just further proof of my unstoppable will. Eat it.
I fucking love my legs! I love them, and I am thankful that with them, I am able to remind myself what a machine I am when I want to be and when I practice.
My Small-Town Friends
My friends—you know, I had a pretty solid support group back then before we crumbled like scrambled eggs in life’s stomach, consumed. I still have connections with some of them. I love all of them in my weird, traumatic way. Those crazy bastards were really my support system—I couldn't live without them, and they made my life special and full.
I will forever think of them, despite our problems, as one of the coolest and most dynamic parts of my life. The parties we had, the vacations, the absurdity of taking photos on street signs we found funny—Petropavlovsk Street, Chaika Street. So much fun. The nights together and the safety net we provided for each other as long as we needed it.
Maria, Mihaela, Ivi, Gabi, Tania, Emka, Cucka, and even Radi & Titi—you were fucking great. You made life in that fucking small town a rock show, the edge of glory. So grateful for those bastards. I am letting go of the hurt now, leaving all the rice behind to escape this fucking monkey trap I was in for so long.
Oh, this is how you felt.
After realizing my state of mind and the pain I’m going through because I lost not only a lover but also a friend, I want to be thankful that I had him for a while. He showed me so much and opened my eyes to another world and culture, and I’ll be forever grateful. He became important, and I will forever keep him in my heart, like the others. Now I know how he felt about me, and I understand.
All the colors that ended up painting you black don’t matter.
Because I opened my eyes, I had to have a conversation with the guy I was dating. I was just looking for a friend, while flirting around as I often do, and I quickly picked up on his need for something more. I didn’t want to play with his emotions, so I had to talk to him immediately. The guy I feel understood where I’m coming from. I hope he appreciates my honesty and respect.
Now, I have to set a boundary between us so I don’t hurt him the way I was hurt. I am thankful for this lesson and for my mind recognizing a pattern and acting on it, as I often do these days. Lately, I’ve been kicking ass in the game of life and overcoming life's challenges left and right. I want to thank myself and express my deepest gratitude for leaving behind what needed to be left and for being open and ready to live more connected to my family and friends, ready to change, and stronger than ever before. So glad I woke up.
Out of Nowhere
It hit me while I was learning German this afternoon. I was playing one of my videos with 54 minutes of meditation music while strengthening my German through writing, and all of a sudden, a thought about Abdo hit me. I felt pure emotion—not one altered by drugs or augmented by someone else. It was grief. I feel it, even as I write this. My body fights to let go of the love I felt for this guy, reminding me of what I had and how much I miss it. Even describing it cannot convey the true feeling I am experiencing right now.
Among this and other emotions, I felt gratitude—gratitude that I had the chance to love and that I still care about him. I am thankful for this moment and this afternoon, as I work on my own growth. The feeling came, and it will go, but I am more equipped than ever before to handle it and cherish the unique story I grieve. Powerful memories are cemented in my mind, allowing me to look back with love.
I am just grateful that I knew him and for the strength I find in my vulnerability, which I continue to discover daily.
Biker's Dream
Usually, I didn’t like them. For the most part, they acted arrogantly, like they owned 51% of the road, and came across as kind of assholes. But lately, after realizing again how healthy it is for everyone to ride a bike, I have decided to be more understanding and supportive. The amount of harmful gases avoided simply because someone chooses to ride a bike for transportation is huge. From now on, I will applaud every biker I see. Even if we’re stuck in a little traffic jam, I will smile, let them pass, give them space, and thank them for taking a bike to work or to their meeting.
Can you imagine if a town like the one I grew up in started a movement to stop driving cars? Why would you need a car in a town of 14,000 people? Everything is literally 10-15 minutes away. By using a bike, you get fitter, stronger, quicker, smarter. The air becomes breathable again, and you enjoy the benefits of moving for both your body and mind. It’s really a no-brainer. In a small town like the one I grew up in, taking charge, providing regular public transportation, and letting everyone bike like crazy would be ideal. I would love to see such a town in the near future.
I love my bike, my father who generously bought it for me, my mother who convinced him, and the dream of one day living in a cleaner, more thoughtful world. I am thankful for those possibilities.
For the Friends Who Understand How Crazy I Am
I am so thankful for Emo and the other people around me who stuck close even though I am crazy as fuck. I'm incredibly grateful for those who saw me for who I truly am and never gave up on me, even though I constantly push them away.
***
This list isn’t complete—it’s a living, evolving document. I’ll keep adding to it as new things fill my heart with love and gratitude, and I’ll also include the things I’ve learned to cherish even more.
What about you? What are the things you love that reveal something about who you are? Share your own list—maybe we’ll all find a little more joy by embracing what fills us with gratitude.
Iliya Badev
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