My Soulmate Might Be My Best Friend

Im Almost Convinced.

Dear Readers,

I’ll try and keep this short and sweet. Understanding and even accepting life’s impermanence, meant that they was an acute fear in writing this. But I think there’s something beautiful about acknowledging when life gives you soulmates. They speak a language that is at a unique frequency only you can access.

But if you had asked me years ago whether a chic, tattooed, 5'2" doodle-mom in her late 30s from Belarus—someone with chronic pain, IBS, and a religious devotion to high-grade coffee—would become my best friend, I wouldn’t have believed you. And if you’d told me we would co-host a tragically successful supper club that would mesmerize nearly a hundred strangers with her stellar cooking and her deeply thoughtful surprise menus, I’d be even more stunned.

But it’s now mid 2025, andI’m entirely convinced that despite the painful turn of events that led to this point - I was always meant to meet Illi. And I imagine she feels the same…..at least I hope she does. I’ve never met anyone like Illi to be honest and it’s made me question the echo chambers I've previously inhabited throughout my colourful life. But I am beyond grateful that fate, the butterfly effect or the holy spirit did their thing because I now know what a support system that accepts you FULLY looks like. One that has watched me leave the door to time and time again to attend dinner with strangers near and far.

Its not even the fact that she (and her husband Tom) are the reason I’m not homeless, but its the fact that even on days when she struggles (as we all do) she is the kind of person that makes you want to be the best version of yourself. And I know, it sounds cheesy but it’s quite simply the truth. She does not allow me to wallow endlessly in my self-loathing, she repeatedly calls me out on my shit and her kindness transcends any judgment. And while she could care less about the fact that a piece of paper confirms that I have PTSD, her primary encouragement stems from the responsible step I’ve taken toward EMDR treatment.

And then there’s the laughter. Being able to laugh through some of my darkest thoughts and giving myself permission to lean into lightness are the biggest gifts that I’ve shared with Illi. Because sometimes I over identify with my neurological disabilities and that eats at me. I’m a full human being and reducing myself to “the bipolar man who wants to die” like a two dimensional cartoon character is something she’s taught me to rise above and even challenge at times. Making me realise that I need to stop apologising for joy when it finds me to serve as a reminder that there is so much still to take pleasure in while I’m here: even if it’s just a fucking good bowl of homemade fresh pasta.

And finally, no one else on planet earth can made charcoal bread pillows (that literally look like stone marble) like this :

It’s just witchcraft and that’s one of the reasons why I love her ; her brain is definitely one of the most beautiful things about her.

Warmly,

Joseph.