Recognizing Our Impact and Resisting Gaslighting
This photo was taken by Maria Mashura, now a dear friend of mine and the first of more than 4,000 women and children I helped escape the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Maria’s baby, now a little girl, has spent her entire early childhood separated from her father.
This is not made up. This is not a figment of my imagination. This is real.
This is the result of war—of families crowding onto trains at all hours, day and night, as bombs fall on their communities. This is the reality of savage soldiers raping and torturing innocent civilians. This is what invasion looks like.
As I sat down to review my LinkedIn profile and plan my pursuit of doctoral studies, I found myself reflecting deeply on my past experiences and accomplishments. What began as a routine task turned into a profound moment of self-discovery, revealing two important truths about myself and the world around me.
The first revelation was this: I don’t give myself enough credit.
In the whirlwind of life, I had nearly forgotten about a meaningful initiative I led at the start of the invasion of Ukraine. It’s humbling to reflect on how, alongside a dedicated team of psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychotherapists from across Europe, we created, wrote, and published a developmentally appropriate book, at record speed, to help children navigate the emotional and psychological toll of war. This resource, translated into eight languages, reached 250,000 copies published by Vogel Verlag in Würzburg—a project made possible through the 100% contribution of time and resources I initiated and carried out.
From its creation to its distribution across the EU and within Ukraine, I oversaw every step of the process. Even now, this work continues to make a difference. Teachers in schools and early childhood centers use these tools as sirens wail and bombs fall on their communities. The impact is real, tangible, and ongoing—yet, in the busyness of life, I had allowed this accomplishment to fade from my own memory. It’s a reminder to pause, reflect, and acknowledge the good we do, even when it feels like just a small part of a much larger journey.
The second revelation was harder to face: Although I am one who held space, I am not immune to gaslighting.
I had begun to question whether my humanitarian actions were warranted, influenced by a political system so vast and complex that it felt impossible to fully grasp. I started to doubt the very people I had sought to help—the women and children I brought into my home, who arrived with nothing but the shoes on their feet and a backpack of their most treasured belongings. These were children—babies, toddlers, school children— pregnant mothers fleeing for their lives and the lives of their unborn. Yet, despite having a front row seat, I questioned motives and intentions because I listened to external narratives instead of focusing on humanity. This realization was is deeply unsettling.
Let me be clear: I don’t care which side of politics you’re on—left, right, or center. What matters is this: as someone who literally rescued a group of women and children, including a pregnant mother walking across the border from Ukraine to Slovakia in the snow in the middle of the night because the train had turned back and there was no other way to escape the war, I found myself doubting my own observations.
I am not someone easily manipulated. I pride myself on being grounded, discerning, and deeply connected to reality. And yet, even I, for a brief moment, questioned what I had seen, felt, and experienced. I allowed external narratives to creep in, casting shadows on the truth I knew in my heart. This is not okay.
If someone like me—who witnessed the raw, unfiltered reality of war, who held the hands of terrified mothers and children, who saw the exhaustion in their eyes and the determination in their steps—could momentarily doubt my own reality, what does that mean for others who are further removed from such experiences? How many people are questioning their own truths because of the noise, the manipulation, and the divisive narratives that surround us?
This is why we must remain vigilant. We must guard our minds and hearts against the forces that seek to distort our understanding of the world. We must hold tightly to the truth, even when it feels like the ground beneath us is shifting. And we must extend compassion to those who are struggling to discern reality in a world that often feels chaotic and uncertain.
Let this be a reminder: our humanity, our empathy, and our commitment to truth are our greatest strengths. We owe it to ourselves and to one another to stay diligent in our pursuit of what is real, what is just, and what is true.
This experience left me wondering about the broader impact of gaslighting on those who didn’t witness these events firsthand. What does this mean for the psychology and well-being of humanity? How many others have doubted their reality or the validity of their actions because of manipulative narratives?
In our journey of self-discovery and healing, it’s essential to recognize our impact and honor our achievements. We must give ourselves credit for the good we do and resist the forces that seek to undermine our sense of reality. Our actions, rooted in compassion and empathy, have the power to transform lives. We must hold onto that truth, even when doubt and manipulation try to cloud our vision.
As I move forward in my pursuit of doctoral studies, I carry these lessons with me. I am committed to recognizing my worth, understanding the ripple effects of my actions, and standing firm against the forces that seek to distort my reality. Our humanity, our compassion, and our empathy are powerful tools for change. Let’s hold onto them tightly and continue to make a difference in the world.
