About Me

In case you’re not planning on reading a lengthy essay (scroll down for the longread) I’ll give you the headlines:

Born in Tbilisi, Georgian SSR. Lived in San Diego, CA and Moscow, Russia. Graduated from Moscow State University with a major in Political PR and minor in Japanese. Worked in the Jewish Museum and Tolerance Center in Moscow, edited, proofread, translated and wrote impactful texts for exhibitions. Joined an eCommerce startup, played integral part in making it successful and profitable, company went viral on several social media platforms - all was well. COVID hit, suddenly long-distance relationship was not a very good idea. Moved to Scotland and married the love of my life. Joined B2B AgriTech startup in Roslin. Wrote compelling articles, managed social media, made photos and graphic design, found new distributors, made an SaaS product, launched a new product line. Moved to center of Edinburgh. Now looking for next step.

Me on Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh.

How did I end up here, you might ask? Well, love, of course.

I was born in the Soviet Union, in a small country called Georgia. It is ancient, proud, and breathtakingly beautiful. It is famous for being the oldest winemaking region in the world, the second country to adopt Christianity as its state religion (still going strong), as well as its unique language and writing system. Georgia is home to valleys, beaches, rainforests, mountains, and the best-smelling tomatoes known to man.

My parents, their parents, and their grandparents (etc., etc.) were all engineers and physicists. And then came the crowning achievement of five generations of meticulous selection - me, decidedly not an engineer or a physicist. To think that before my birth, the odd one out was my step-grandmother, a chemist!

When the Soviet Union dissolved, my family settled in Moscow as my parents adapted to their salaries turning to dust, their labs closing down, and the new capitalist reality taking over. I was promptly sent to live with my grandparents in San Diego, California. My paternal grandparents moved to the USA in the 80s and had a semblance of stability in their lives - something that was (quite reasonably) deemed vital for a child. I spent years swimming in the Pacific, chasing wild parrots, watching whales, orcas, and dolphins, trying to pet stingrays and make friends with crabs. Well, I thought I had made friends with one particular crab who had only one claw. I was certain that it was the same crab, and I even made up a little story about the crab losing his other claw in a battle with a jellyfish (a jellyfish stung me pretty badly, and for a while, their entire species was prominently featured as villains in all of my stories. I'm wiser now). I now know that fiddler crabs have one big claw and one small claw, so I guess I was being overly friendly and overshared with a bunch of different crabs, which is a bit embarrassing.

When things settled down in Moscow, I moved again, this time to live with my parents. They worked long hours, and I spent all of my time going to school, reading books, writing short stories, and doodling in sketchbooks. Eventually, my dad suggested I get out of the house more and gave me a camera - his old Nikon FM-2. I got hooked on photography and spent all of my allowance on film rolls and photography paraphernalia.

In high school, I freelanced as a photographer and wrote the occasional article for youth magazines. As a hobby, I dabbled in animation and fully planned to pursue a multimedia production degree - a prospect that sent chills down the backs of my entire engineering/physicist family. They insisted I choose something less "artsy," so I ended up studying Political PR and Japanese at Moscow State University and graduated with a Bachelor's degree in International Relations. I'm sure the irony of someone getting an International Relations degree in Russia is not lost on you, dear reader.

Having no desire to accidentally defenestrate, I decided firmly against a career in politics and joined the super cool team at The Jewish Museum and Tolerance Center instead. I was part of the Research team and worked tirelessly to adapt our materials into English, while proofreading and editing the Russian versions as well. Some of our exhibitions were specifically aimed at schoolchildren, so much of what we were doing involved finding ways to tell scary stories that wouldn't scar the children for life, but instead, provide them with perspective and food for thought. The nature of my employment allowed me a lot of flexibility, so I stayed involved in volunteer and freelance projects that I had from my student years, expanding my network and gaining hands-on experience in the film industry.

Eventually, I was headhunted to join an eCommerce startup. It was barely an idea at that point - we were going to make artisanal knives (or something) and sell them online (or something). It was pretty vague, definitely insane, so of course, I was in. In three years, we went viral dozens of times, increased our turnover to a million dollars, and became the only knifesmithy to earn a top seller badge on the biggest artisanal/handmade eCommerce platform in the world. All in all, things were going pretty well. Until they weren't, and there was a worldwide pandemic closing down logistics and disrupting everything.

For me personally, the pandemic meant something else as well - I was suddenly unable to see my boyfriend. Like any other yuppie millennials, we thought the world would just always work a certain way, so naturally, we thought we could be in a long-distance relationship and fly to see each other whenever. When the borders closed and all the flights were canceled, it felt like this would be a brief pause on normal life, a few weeks at most. Half a year into lockdown, we agreed that not being able to be with each other was pretty unbearable, so we decided to get married and sit indoors together. I packed a light bag, as I optimistically thought the pandemic would soon be over, and things would get back to normal. And just like that, I moved to Scotland and got married.

After obtaining my family visa (which allows me to work in the UK) and waiting six months to become a tax resident, I started looking for a local job. I was giving preference to jobs with at least a few days in the office. Two years into lockdown, I had devolved into a bit of a wildling and had forgotten how to talk to people, so that needed to be fixed immediately. Out of all the offers I had received, I chose the one company whose product I thought was the most innovative and groundbreaking (it didn't hurt that my commute to the Roslin Institute was about 10 minutes on a bus). My colleagues like to joke that we sell disco lights for chickens, but it's really much more than that. We are revolutionising livestock production efficiency by providing solutions that are custom-tailored for each individual species. Change an industry for the better, increase the welfare of millions of animals, decrease energy consumption and food waste, all while increasing the farmer's profit margin? Yes, please!

In my year (and a bit) working for an AgTech startup, I have written numerous articles, started and maintained several social media channels, created effective lead generation forms, produced hundreds of materials for exhibitions, events, and collaborative marketing campaigns. I've mended relationships with distributors, found new representatives in regions where we had no representation, and ensured continued commitment to sell our products. I have also collaborated with R&D and developed an SaaS product, gone on site (yes, chicken farms), taken photos, updated and maintained brand architecture, expanded the media library, ensured a consistent tone of voice, and improved search engine performance, getting us on page one and even postion one of SERP for many relevant keywords.

My husband and I have also bought our first property, and we are now happily living in the center of Edinburgh. My commute is now a hulking 2.5 hours every day, so I am looking for my next step and will keep this page updated :)