In the latest episode of the podcast Top or Bottom?, our guests were Alana Gebremariam [Instagram] — a political activist, socio-political figure, and former political prisoner — and Artyom Staver [Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, Instagram] — a director, editor, and musician involved in cultural projects.
Their story is about trust — the kind that doesn’t come instantly. About connection — the kind that takes time. And about how a relationship can begin even amid deep trauma, if there’s a willingness to give another person a chance.
As hosts, it was especially important for us to talk with Alana and Artyom to explore the topic of relationships after trauma. Alana was unlawfully imprisoned in a Belarusian penal colony. After her release, she experienced heightened anxiety in interactions with men — perceiving them more as a threat than as potential partners. Artyom had to flee unsafe environments twice: first from Belarus, and then from Ukraine. He had emigrated to Ukraine and was there when russia launched its full-scale invasion — after which he was forced to evacuate to Poland.
It’s not like everything around them was conducive to love.
But then, they both ended up in Poland — literally on the same street.
A pivotal role in Alana and Artyom’s story was Artyom’s persistence: he kept messaging Alana, inviting her for coffee, even months before she moved to Warsaw. At the time, Alana rarely replied and wasn’t thinking about a relationship. One day, Artyom saw an Instagram story where Alana mentioned her move — and he recognized his own building in the background. He realized she would be living nearby. It felt incredible, as if fate itself was nudging them to meet. At that point, Alana had already ended a previous relationship, and with time, she regained a sense of safety — making open communication possible. She felt ready to give Artyom a chance and agreed to have coffee with him.
That coffee became the starting point of their relationship.
Hard experiences affect everyone — and trauma often breaks even the strongest relationships. So what should we pay attention to when building a connection in such circumstances?
First of all, relationships don’t just appear out of nowhere — especially when both people carry trauma. The phrase “love conquers all” sounds beautiful, but it needs help. Infatuation alone isn’t enough — real life begins. War, emigration, and changing realities make honesty especially valuable. It becomes the foundation of a relationship in the face of external instability. It’s in these moments that you understand who you are — and who stands beside you.
Sometimes it feels like — finally, it’s over, and you can breathe. But often, even when the situation stabilizes, relationships still fall apart, because the partners don’t know how to be together in peace and safety. And because it’s precisely in moments of safety that PTSD comes back. Many couples either grow closer under these conditions — or fall apart. Alana and Artyom went through this too: irritation, arguments. There was a moment of crisis.
PTSD is not just a painful memory. It’s a condition where the body and mind continue to live in danger — even when the danger is gone. When everything seems calm on the outside, anxiety, frustration, and fear can rage on the inside. A person with PTSD may not understand what’s happening, and their loved ones may not know how to help. This doesn’t make someone “broken”. It makes them vulnerable — and in need of support.
Support can come through therapy. But it’s important to understand: therapy only works if the person is ready to change something. Sometimes we feel like the psychologist isn’t helping — but it’s because we’re not opening up, not willing to listen, not trusting. A psychologist won’t solve everything for us, but they can help us find the way. And if you’re hurt and that pain is interfering with your life — it’s important to give yourself a chance. Not for someone else — but for yourself.
PTSD affected Alana and Artyom’s relationship precisely when things more or less stabilized in emigration. And this is where flexibility, openness, and a willingness to change become essential — not losing yourself, but creating something shared. Personal boundaries become especially important, especially if you’ve lived for a long time in conditions where those boundaries didn’t exist at all. For Alana, prison was such a place. After spending years with others in the colony, she realized her need for personal space. So in her new relationship, it was important to have her own space — not just physical, but emotional as well. And that’s crucial — to feel and define your own boundaries.
For Alana and Artyom, the solution came through housing. Each of them had their own area in the home — for work, for rest, for silence. Responsibilities were divided naturally. The main thing was to listen and truly hear each other. They were able to get through it all because they didn’t expect a perfect relationship — they worked on building their own.
Alana emphasizes the importance of psychotherapy and openness in communication. During a period of depression, it’s especially important to be sensitive to your partner. They reached understanding through conversations and therapy. Agreements provide a lot of support in a relationship. Each couple has their own, but the main thing is that both partners understand their needs and are able to express them.
People often ask Alana why she chose Artyom, saying “they’re so different”. Some point out that Artyom is shorter. Some acquaintances think Alana controls him. Others focus on his piercings. And some — on the fact that Alana is a Black Belarusian woman. But more often than not, unfortunately, what truly bothers people is the color of her skin — even if they only voice other concerns like piercings, height, or personality. This is racism — not overt, but hidden in evasive remarks, strange questions, and awkward jokes.
There’s also a stereotype: that it’s “cool” to have had partners of different races or nationalities. Some men Alana interacted with in the past would say things like, “You’re checking off my [wish] list for life”. Or ask Artyom, “You like coffee with milk too?” — a crude and prejudiced innuendo. They learned to respond with humor: Alana would joke that they were just copying Zendaya and Tom Holland. And Artyom once said, “Let’s just call ourselves the Belarusian Zendaya and Tom”.
Such behavior is part of a larger problem. In 2025, while humanity travels to space and builds incredibly complex technologies, remnants of the past still persist: racism, prejudice, and stereotypical thinking. Skin color, name, accent — all of that still matters to some people. The more we talk about it — calmly, honestly, without dramatizing — the better the chance that something will begin to change in society.
Alana and Artyom’s story is not a romantic fairytale. It’s an honest account of pain, trust, healing from trauma, and learning to be together. And that, perhaps, is its greatest strength.
