| Description: |
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I don’t need to pretend to be a saint or “easy to live with.”I’m the kind of woman who has deadlines in her head, music in her heart, and something random in her bag all the time: sheet music, a charger, or a cookie.
I can be straightforward, I can joke, I can get tired — and I don’t see that as a flaw. I don’t pretend to be an intellectual and I’m not chasing perfection, artificial beauty, or fashion.I can play Chopin and a couple of minutes later swear at the notes — and yes, I know how to laugh at myself 🙂I can drink non-alcoholic beer on a bench, and in the evening put on high heels and go play the piano in a restaurant. Why pretend to be someone I’m not? I’m for honesty and simplicity.But I don’t drink beer just like that — almost like an aristocrat, with lime (yes, I’m laughing right now 😂). In short, I’m an optimistic person with self-irony — life is boring without it. I love children, peonies, Italian cuisine, and people with normal emotional intelligence — without games, manipulation, or long lectures about how “unbearable” I am (spoiler: I’m not). I have an adult daughter. I start with honesty and I truly hope for your honesty too.Honesty is a rare thing, but incredibly attractive. I also have a cat named Persephone and a character that isn’t always convenient. I don’t promise to be perfect or to wash the dishes on time every day,but I do promise that mornings will start with kisses, coffee, or freshly squeezed juice — depending on what you like ☕🍊 |
| Description de la personne idéale: |
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I don’t live with illusions.What matters to me is calm, respect, and real connection — without emotional roller coasters, mind games, or constant “tests of strength.”
I’m not looking for perfection.If there’s mutuality — great.If not, then it’s simply not for me. I’m here for a future, not for something that exists “just to exist.” My ideal man is someone with emotional intelligence.Kind, smart, and with a sense of humor.Someone I can be myself with and not be afraid to look silly — like if I slip on the ice in winter, we laugh first, then he helps me up… and maybe rubs my face with snow again 🙂 |
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