Hello everyone. My name is Nil. I am a former journalist and currently an asylum seeker in the US. All I am asking for is a minute of your time to read my story.

I am an ethnic Tajik woman who was born and raised in Russia. Whenever we flew to visit my grandmother in Tajikistan, children in the streets would shout at me, "Go back where you came from, Russian," because I didn't speak Tajik. I learned the language, but I was still never accepted as one of them. Then, back in Russia, I spent my whole life being called "black" and hearing, "Go back to your own country." When i were 5 y.o, when we were visiting my grandmother in Tajikistan, my mother's brother harassed me all summer. When I grew up, I finally told my mother what had happened, but she didn't believe me.

When I was 13, my family went bankrupt, and my father had to flee the country. My mother, my brother, and I were left with nowhere to live. From that day on, I started working to make sure we had a roof over our heads. At 18, I enrolled in journalism school and became a journalist. At 19, I was in a serious car accident and broke my back. For 6 months, I was bedridden. At one point, I could only open one eye. But I fought my way back, learned to walk again, and started my life from scratch. As a journalist, I defended women's rights in Tajikistan. If you know anything about the situation there, you'll understand why I was eventually forced to leave and move back to Moscow. The last two projects I worked in Armenia after the revolution and in Ukraine.

After that, I spent 4 years fighting to restore my Russian citizenship.

While I was back in Russia, I was in a taxi when it was involved in another serious car accident. This time, I broke my neck. Once again, I had to start over. I recovered and rebuilt my life from scratch. When the war began, I had no choice but to leave for the United States and apply for political asylum. I arrived in America alone with just $1,000 in my pocket and without speaking English. I learned the language quickly and began building a new life. Until last year, I truly believed the hardest chapters of my life were finally behind me. Then my only brother—the one I had helped raise like my own son—was found dead. He was only 25 years old. He was found hanging, with his hands tied.

In that moment, I felt like I died with him. But I had to keep living, because he left behind a newborn son in our home country. In August 2024, I finally found my calling. I became a successful professional home organizer, and for the first time in my life, I truly felt I had found my path.

Everything changed in August of last year, when an ICE officer installed a monitoring app on my phone. Since then, I have been required to follow a strict schedule and am only allowed to leave home on certain days. On Jan 1 of this year, I became homeless. Because before I used to work every day to pay my bills. Everything I owned was in my car. I spent my nights sleeping on friends' living room and sometimes in my car. On Jan 9, I was fitted with an ankle monitor, which I still wear today. It has taken a serious toll on both my physical and mental health. Every day, I struggle with depression, anxiety, and PTSD. In April, I experienced continuous bleeding for 22 days. Walking becomes more difficult with each passing day because one of my legs is longer than the other, and the ankle monitor makes it even harder and more painful to walk. 2 months ago, I looked at my life and felt that I had no strength or desire left to keep fighting. Then God sent me a friend. One conversation with a kind person in a single evening gave me the strength to stand up again and want to live.

Since that day, every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep, I pray. I don't ask God for anything. I simply thank Him for everything I have and everything I am grateful for. For the first time in my 31 years, I decided to tell about 15% of my life. I want people who are going through a difficult time to know that if I survived everything I've been through, then there is hope for them too. For the past two months, I have had a place of my own again. Every day, from morning until night, I work to rebuild my life. I work, prepare for my immigration court case with my attorney, go to doctors' appointments, and take care of everything else that needs to be done. I have written down my plans, my goals, my ideas, and my dreams. Every single day, I take one small step toward them. I have accepted and embraced my destiny exactly as it is.

Many people who know me see only how many times I came close to death. What I see is how many times God gave me another chance, another reason to hope, and another reason to keep living.

I still don't know exactly what my purpose is, but every day I do everything I can to build a better life so that one day I can make this world a better place.

Every time I fell, I got back up and reached even greater heights. And if probability has taught me anything, it's that I can do it again.

I want to become an example for every woman on this planet. I simply don't want to let down the little girl I used to be.

Today, by the grace of God, I am safe, and for that I am deeply grateful.

But I've realized that I'm trapped in a cycle. During the time when I couldn't work, I accumulated debts—including taxes, legal fees, and other essential expenses. Now, almost everything I earn goes toward rent, food, insurance, and bills.

I dream of writing a book, selling the song lyrics I've written, creating my own blog, and launching my own clothing brand and I want to do movie or TV show about my life.

To make those dreams possible, I truly need your help. 🙏🏻

More than anything, I want to make sure I never become homeless again. I want to stop living in constant anxiety about surviving and start creating, because life is far too short.

I no longer have any pride—only the desire to live.

May God bless each and every one of you.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. 🤍

If you need someone to talk to or you're going through a difficult time, you're always welcome to message me on Instagram: @organizedbynil.