Ten years ago, around this time...

11:06:00 19.08.2026

Ten years ago, around this time, I had already left my teaching position at Glendale Community College and was wrapping up my affairs there and packing my belongings, preparing to move to the Fatherland. Many people told me at the time, “You’ll regret it” or “You’ll come back,” but they did not truly know or understand how deeply rooted the reasons behind my decision were. They did not feel what I felt, because after the Four-Day April War, they had returned to their ordinary lives, while I was no longer the same. There was only one thought in my mind: Armenia was in danger, and it needed me. I could not remain indifferent like them, because my love for Armenia was unconditional.

Three years earlier, in 2013, I had visited Armenia for the first time. On my way back to the United States, I published an open letter online in which I told everyone that the day would come when I would return—but this time as a permanent resident—because that would be the first and last time I came to Armenia as a tourist. Throughout my entire conscious life, I had tried to promote patriotism and nationalism wherever I went and to everyone around me. When that turning point came, I realized that it was time to stand by my words and prove that what I had preached was not merely empty rhetoric.

I had felt a personal responsibility toward the Fatherland from a young age, and the time had come to take a real and decisive step. I could not let that moment pass. I felt that it was not only the Land that was calling me, but also the spirits of immortal ancestors, and I could not leave those calls unanswered.

I came with a one-way ticket, bought and renovated a home, served in the army as a contract soldier, perfected my Armenian, and volunteered from beginning to end in the Martakert trenches during the treacherous 44-Day War. Then, seeing the disgraceful state of the political arena in 2021, I once again found myself standing at a crossroads, just as I had five years earlier, before I had even moved to Armenia.

Just as people had returned to their everyday lives after the Four-Day April War, the same happened after the treacherous 44-Day War. But once again, I could not remain indifferent and live like an ostrich with my head in the sand. I had already spent five years living in Armenia, enduring every kind of disappointment, and I now had to make my second major decision: return to the United States, live a “normal” life in Armenia, or once again accept personal responsibility for the current situation and try to do something—no matter how “unrealistic” it might seem and no matter how small the chances of success might be.

I chose the latter because, beyond my disappointment, I felt the same sense of duty that I had felt five years earlier. In reality, that sense of duty was even greater this time, because I had returned from the front alive and unharmed, and I did not consider that a coincidence. I had to continue the struggle in the political arena as a former university adjunct professor, unknown repat and ordinary soldier, because I fully understood that the struggle had not ended—it had, in fact, only just begun.

That is why politics, and this entire struggle in general, are not a pastime for me, nor are they a career where I think, “If it works out, it works out; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t,” like the many political prostitutes in our country. This is my entire life—an obligation, a destiny, something I cannot escape even if I wanted to, because it is embedded in my genes and my soul. I cannot do anything else, and I have nowhere else to go.

That is why, ten years ago, filled with faith, I crossed an ocean, and today I continue to move forward steadfastly on this path without any “Plan B,” because I am certain that there is no other road for me. For me, there is only one path: the very same path that our heroic ancestors walked before us, and the path we must continue to walk for the sake of our future generations.

As the years pass, I become increasingly convinced that I did not choose this path—this path chose me. And especially during these “wilderness years,” it has continued to forge me spiritually along its thorny and rocky road, preparing me for the coming storm.

From the very first day I set foot on the soil of my Homeland, there was only one thing on my mind: to fight for the creation of an independent, united, and Greater Armenia. And in that regard, nothing within me has changed throughout these years. Even then, I knew that the small steps taken by each of us could become a great leap for our entire nation and its history, because what we do in life truly echoes through eternity.