On the last day of filming in Kharkiv, our team stood silently as the sun set and the Ukrainian flag waved high above the city. We thought it would be our final episode.

I cried — not just from exhaustion after months of non-stop work or because the streets of Kharkiv, battered but unbroken, had moved me so deeply.

I cried because I knew something rare had happened. Over the course of this project, I had fallen in love with Ukraine — fully, unexpectedly, and with my whole heart. And I wanted others to feel that, too.

That’s what Dare to Ukraine has always been about: a country at war, yet still alive. Complicated. Beautiful. Worth seeing. Worth loving.

Resilience as a main character 

Launched as a bold video experiment by The Kyiv Independent, Dare to Ukraine is a travel documentary series set against the backdrop of a full-scale war.

It was never just about scenic views or great food. It was about capturing the spirit of a country determined to keep going.

We told stories of the past and present — of resilience, creativity, and the quiet courage woven into daily routines. We followed our curiosity from the cobblestones of Lviv to the abandoned streets of Chornobyl. We met artists and war veterans, musicians and chefs, all shaping what Ukraine looks like today.

The Carpathians episode still lives in my chest. In the village of Kryvorivnia, we filmed a traditional celebration in the mountains. Musicians played, dancers spun in embroidered clothes, and for a moment — just a moment — we all forgot the heartbreaks caused by Russia’s war.

Then someone told us how many members of the dance group had been killed. How many villagers had been buried. I remember the tears on our cheeks as we kept filming, knowing we were witnessing the kind of fragile joy that makes life worth fighting for.

This was never an easy production. Most of our team had never worked on anything like it before. We filmed five to 10 days straight for each episode, often 10 to 12 hours a day. There were few breaks, late nights, and constant emotional whiplash. Once, I had 20 minutes to pull myself together and film a cheerful segment about chocolate — right after breaking down in tears at a military cemetery.

But it was worth it. We captured the Ukraine most people never get to see. A Ukraine of resistance and reinvention. Of humour and heartbreak. Of ancient rituals and late-night raves.

A different lens

For our viewers, the series offered a new perspective on Ukraine. For me, it changed everything.

After years abroad, always feeling not quite Ukrainian and not quite foreign, Dare to Ukraine helped me embrace the in-between. That duality is my strength. And this show — this dream I carried since childhood — reminded me that even the most unlikely hopes are worth chasing.

In August 2023, I was just a girl with an idea. I wanted to rediscover the land I came from. I wanted to belong. And now I’ve done that — not just for myself, but for the hundreds of thousands who watched and followed along.

That’s the magic of Dare to Ukraine; it isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us, seeing Ukraine as it is now.

Dare to Ukraine is a love letter to a place that holds more than headlines ever could. It’s a reminder that beauty and heartbreak can — and do — exist in the same breath. It’s proof that even in war, a country can still tell its story in its own voice. And that voice is worth listening to.

It’s what I saw — and what I hope others now see, too.

Banner photo by Valeriia Snopkova of The Kyiv Independent.

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