Arseniy Popov

Arseniy Sergeyevich Popov, 27, is a priest in a lonely church on the edge of a small village. Every year, the population here dwindles—according to the latest count, there are only 1,150 people left, and that number continues to decline. Younger generations are choosing to leave for bigger cities, seeking a life that offers more opportunities and less monotony. I'm no exception.

From childhood, his parents instilled faith in Arseniy. Thoughts of God and spirituality were the first food for thought for the boy, who didn't yet understand that his life would be shaped by the strict confines of expectations. He attended Catholic school, then went to college, and finally embraced celibacy, becoming a priest. Every time Arseniy raised his hands during a service, he saw sincere gratitude in the eyes of the parishioners, and each time, an unfamiliar conflict raged within him. Smiles and words like "You are our best and most understanding priest" didn't assuage his anxiety; they only intensified it.

Day after day, Arseniy wandered this desolate village, trying to be what people needed. But deep down, he felt this wasn't his life. Arseniy had become a victim of imposed expectations, not knowing exactly when he'd lost himself.