The Quiet Warrior

Small daily rituals

The conversation begins quietly. With morning habits, with small everyday rituals. With a morning run, followed by her favorite koulouri, and that brief moment when everything seems, if only for a little while, to fall into place.

She is clearly a morning person.

“Morning gives you new possibilities,” she says. “Whatever darkened the previous day has faded.” She also describes herself as a child of winter, although she admits that her husband has slowly taught her to love the sea and the summer.

Acceptance as a way of seeing the world

The word that defines her most at this stage of her life is acceptance. Not as resignation, but as a clear-eyed way of seeing things as they truly are. After all, if we cannot accept things first, how could we ever hope to change them?

Art always tries and, over time, succeeds. It moves her deeply. Literature, especially. Not as an escape, but as a way of understanding.

She recently read Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens and admits she was deeply moved, both by the character of Kya and by the fierce power of nature, as well as the tension between society and individuality.

It is no coincidence that she often returns for comfort to the activist work of Banksy, particularly the way his art engages with society without asking for permission.

I am certain her favorite color must be white or black, but I’m wrong, she laughs. She prefers a shade people tend to call “rotten apple”, almost pink but not quite. A color without a clear outline, much like the way she avoids easy definitions.

Her relationship with animals and the environment

That same spontaneity and clarity run through the way she speaks about the world, about animals, the environment and our relationship with nature.

She does not use public discourse to build a profile. She uses it because she believes in action and in the responsibility that comes with having a platform. “We need voices that are deeper and more meaningful,” she says. “Not because lighter content has no place, but because serious positioning is missing.”

For her, animal welfare and environmentalism are not abstract concepts. They are matters of education and respect. “If we haven’t learned how to love,” she admits, “then we haven’t learned to love animals or even other people. Because love requires respect, and that’s where our society falls short.”

She does not believe people don’t love. She believes they love selfishly, in ways that serve themselves rather than the recipient of that love.

From theory to action

This mindset does not remain theoretical, it becomes action.

Through initiatives such as Kind Things, Save a Greek Stray and A Promise to Animals, care for animals takes on structure and real impact.

It is work that goes beyond momentary circumstances, built with longevity, method and clear direction. Not as charity for appearances, but as a systematic commitment, where sensitivity meets organization and intention becomes consistency.

Her stance on veganism fits exactly within this framework. Not as a dietary trend, but as an ethical choice. A daily decision with real consequences. “What we eat is a decision we make three times a day,” she says. “And that decision affects our lives, animals and the planet.”

She doesn’t speak in terms of prohibition, but of awareness. She doesn’t demand compliance, she asks for an understanding of the chain that connects our actions to their consequences.

Motherhood and the meaning of responsibility

In her daily life, the moments when everything feels in place are simple ones.

Weekends at home with her children. Walks, playground visits, cooking together. Not as a celebration of simplicity, but as a reminder that the essentials are often enough.

As a mother, the concept of responsibility now carries a different weight. It is no longer just about the present, but about the world her children will grow up in. “You see beyond yourself,” she says. “You think about the future.” And above all, you realize that children learn not from what you say, but from what you do.“Even if we don’t express something in words, they read us like an open book.”

The power of consistency

Strength, as she understands it today, has nothing to do with rigidity. It has to do with vulnerability.

With continuing even when you are afraid, but also with knowing when to stop. “Doing things that scare you and still moving forward, that is strength,” she says. Strength is also claiming your own happiness, even when it does not align with society’s standards of success.

She does not deny the difficulty of it all. She knows that public discourse carries responsibility and is never immune to criticism.

She does not idealize reality. She acknowledges that all of us, even the most conscious among us, participate daily in systems that burden the planet. “If we don’t accept that first, we can’t move forward,” she says.

For her, honesty stands the test of time, even if it sometimes comes at a cost.

When she speaks about the future, she does not imagine a sterilized world. She imagines a world built on respect. “We don’t have to agree in order to respect one another,” she says.

And this distinction lies at the heart of her philosophy: a world where humans, animals and nature are not treated as competitors, but as parts of the same interconnected and interdependent system.

Ultimately, the last thing Erietta Kourkoulou Latsi cares about is becoming a symbol. What matters to her is remaining consistent.

And in an era of constant noise, that choice in itself is an act of resistance.

Not loud.
But meaningful.