Latest news with #Artem
New York Post
6 days ago
- Lifestyle
- New York Post
More than half of Americans admire the French way of life and how they approach work
More than half of Americans admire the French way of life, with their love of fresh ingredients, arts and culture – and a good work/life balance at the top of the list. A poll of 2,000 adults found 29 percent of France-admirers love their preference for fresh food over processed items, while the same percentage appreciates their love of arts and culture. Advertisement French work practices are also admired by many – with 60 percent believing the French have a better work life balance, compared to just 10 percent for Americans. 5 A poll of 2,000 adults found 29 percent of France-admirers love fresh food over processed items and appreciate their love of arts and culture. Artem – More than one in five (22 percent) respect their commitment to clocking off work at their contracted time, and 22 percent like how they protect lunch breaks as a 'sacred time.' Enjoying fine cuisine and their sense of style are also among the areas Americans admire about the French lifestyle. Advertisement It also emerged 22 percent of those who know of the French way of life would love to adopt certain aspects into their own lives – with the most envied areas being food, time for hobbies and interests, and taking longer lunch breaks. 5 The most envied areas of French life are food, time for hobbies and interests and longer lunch breaks. Adam Gray / 72Point / PinPep While 21 percent have taken onboard their attitudes to romance, with the same number trying to be more humble. A spokesperson for bakery brand St Pierre, which commissioned the study and surprised Americans during their lunch break with a French dining experience to encourage them to 'Eat Avec Respect' said: 'The French lifestyle is often admired and romanticized worldwide and for good reason. Advertisement 'There's something timeless and deeply alluring about the French way of life that continues to captivate Americans. 5 'There's something timeless and deeply alluring about the French way of life that continues to captivate Americans,' a spokesperson for bakery brand St Pierre, who commissioned the study, said. Adam Gray / 72Point / PinPep 'Whether it's the art of slowing down, prioritizing quality over quantity, or the effortless sense of style, France offers a rhythm of life that feels both sophisticated and grounded. 'It's a culture that places value on experiences – a morning coffee at a sidewalk café, a leisurely stroll through a local market, or an afternoon spent with family around the table.' Advertisement The research also found 29 percent of Americans consider it 'unlikely' that French people admire any parts of the American lifestyle. 5 29 percent of Americans consider it 'unlikely' that French people admire any parts of the American lifestyle. Ekaterina Pokrovsky – And 42 percent would even like to hop across the Atlantic permanently and live in France someday. But if US citizens were to present American food to other countries, they'd be most proud to offer a meaty cheeseburger (27 percent) or some fried chicken (27 percent). With nearly as many (26 percent) as proud of barbecue ribs, and 22 percent opting to show off a classic US apple pie. But one in four of those polled, via OnePoll, admit they get most of their information about the French lifestyle from social media like Instagram or TikTok, while 19 percent pick it up from YouTube. 5 42 percent of Americans would like to live in France someday. zigres – The spokesperson for St Pierre, which has also created a hilarious video teaching American workers to be more 'French' in their lunch-taking, said: 'Many Americans admire how the French approach balance – not just in food and fashion, but in work and rest. Advertisement 'There's a deep respect for boundaries when it comes to time off, and a national understanding that taking proper breaks isn't laziness – it's essential to wellbeing and productivity. 'Good food is good for the soul, which is why we believe that lunchbreaks – and any other meal time – is a time to 'eat avec respect'.' TOP 20 THINGS AMERICANS ADMIRE ABOUT THE FRENCH LIFESTYLE: 1. Eating fresh ingredients 2. Love of arts and culture Advertisement 3. The ideal work/life balance 4. Making time to enjoy meals 5. Enjoying the best moments in life 6. Being romantics Advertisement 7. Appreciating fine cuisine 8. Overall better diet than the Americans 9. Better food and drink standards than America 10. Sense of style Advertisement 11. Ditching processed foods 12. Living humbly 13. Taking in their surroundings rather than rushing through the city 14. Making time for hobbies and interests 15. Making time for cooking 16. Better food and drink options than America 17. Being authentic 18. Passionate about interests 19. Good etiquette skills 20. Making every mealtime an occasion
Business Insider
07-07-2025
- Science
- Business Insider
Artem Shishin: Engineering Tomorrow's Champions Through Coaching, and Innovation
From tennis courts to research labs, Artem Shishin is pioneering a new standard for athlete development, sports nutrition, and fitness management in modern Russia. Photo Credit: Elena Maseeva In a country steeped in athletic tradition, Artem Shishin is quietly revolutionizing the way athletes are trained, nourished, and managed. With a career that spans competitive tennis, academic research, and sports education, Shishin exemplifies the power of blending practice with evidence-based science to build not just athletes - but future champions. Born on February 1, 1993, in Novocheboksarsk, Russia, Artem's early immersion into the world of tennis laid the groundwork for a lifelong commitment to sport. His formal education at the Russian State University of Physical Education, Sport, Youth, and Tourism equipped him with a strong foundation in physical culture. Over the years, he would further refine his expertise through international coaching certifications, including PTR (Professional Tennis Registry) credentials and specialized training in Croatia. Athletic Insight Backed by Scientific Precision While many coaches rely solely on experience, Artem complements his practical know-how with scientific inquiry. His research into youth athletic development sheds light on one of sports science's most complex challenges - how to design optimal training regimens for young athletes. In his comprehensive study on training programs for young track and field athletes, Artem conducted a detailed comparative analysis of different developmental approaches. He focused on the critical stage of early athletic formation - where physical foundations are laid, and long-term potential is either nurtured or lost. His research revealed that a holistic, multi-sport training approach - emphasizing flexibility, endurance, and skill variety - consistently outperforms rigid, specialized programs. The study calls for a reimagining of early sports education, encouraging coaches to prioritize general physical conditioning and delayed specialization for better long-term outcomes. Building Champions from the Inside Out Artem's work also dives into sports nutrition, with a sharp focus on endurance disciplines. In his study titled 'Features of Sports Nutrition for Long-Distance Runners Across an Annual Training Cycle,' he explores how dietary strategies can be synchronized with athletic workloads to optimize performance and recovery. Through data-driven experimentation, he developed nutritional models that are adaptive to training phases, recommending specific macronutrient intake during recovery, peak training, and competition. His emphasis on glycogen replenishment, micronutrient balance, and targeted supplementation form a practical guide for athletes and coaches striving for measurable improvements in endurance performance. This research doesn't remain theoretical. Artem applies these findings in real-time coaching scenarios, making his athletes both stronger and smarter about how they fuel their performance. Rethinking Fitness: Management as a Competitive Advantage But Shishin's scope goes even further. His third major research venture focused on the management side of the fitness industry, analyzing two very different facilities in Novocheboksarsk - Spartak Master and Youth Sports School #1. His insights offer a rare look into the operational heartbeat of sports organizations. By combining consumer behavior analysis with on-site audits, Artem identified key success factors for sports facilities, including user experience design, staff training, program diversity, and strategic pricing models. His work demonstrates how management excellence can directly elevate athletic outcomes and organizational sustainability. For a country like Russia, where fitness is still transitioning from elite luxury to public necessity, Artem's findings offer a blueprint for how clubs can scale responsibly while retaining quality. Grassroots Leadership and Regional Impact Beyond academia and coaching, Artem is a hands-on leader in the regional sports community. As an active member of the Tennis Federation of the Chuvash Republic, he plays a pivotal role in organizing competitions, training events, and youth outreach programs. His masterclasses - hosted both in Russia and internationally - are highly regarded for their dynamic approach, integrating motivational psychology, technical refinement, and modern coaching methodology. Whether he's guiding a child through their first serve or presenting research to peers, Artem maintains an educator's heart and a strategist's mind. Paying Tribute to His Mentors Artem is the first to acknowledge the support systems that have helped shape his journey. He extends sincere thanks to Roman Prokhorsky for his partnership in organizing events and facilitating research logistics. He also credits his first coach, Natalia Prokhorskaya, with inspiring his love for tennis and laying the foundation of his discipline. And at the core of it all is family - his mother, Elvira Shishina, whose unwavering encouragement instilled in Artem a lasting passion for sports and personal growth. About Artem Shishin Artem Shishin represents a new era of coaching and athletic science in Russia - one where success is built on data, discipline, and a deep understanding of human potential. By wearing the hats of coach, researcher, and innovator, he is shaping a future where athletes are not just faster or stronger, but smarter, healthier, and more holistically developed. As Russia continues to evolve its approach to physical culture, names like Artem Shishin are leading the charge - turning regional initiatives into models of national excellence. Contact Artem Shishin Artem Shishin
Sydney Morning Herald
05-07-2025
- Politics
- Sydney Morning Herald
On the edge of danger, children laugh in quiet defiance of Putin and his missiles
Beneath the shattered streets of Ukraine's second-largest city, Kharkiv, children gather to learn. Crayons and chalkboards replace missiles and sirens, if only for a few hours. It's here, in these makeshift underground classrooms, that young Ukrainians cling to fragments of childhood amid a relentless war raging just above. Less than 40 kilometres away, the Russian border marks the edge of danger – where Vladimir Putin's missiles and drones streak through the sky, giving barely minutes from launch to impact. Since February 2022, Kharkiv has been under near-constant bombardment. Every night, sirens wail, explosions shake buildings, and the knowledge that no place above ground is truly safe hangs in the air. Yet, amid the rubble and ruin, life persists. And nowhere is that tenacity more visible than in the children of Kharkiv – their laughter, their lessons and their quiet defiance in bunker classrooms. With most schools boarded up and having shifted online, these subterranean spaces aim to provide mental health and psycho-social support, and non-formal education services to children, adolescents and their families while missiles fly overhead. When it is safe, the children and those supporting them venture above ground instead. For many children here, this is a lifeline. Artem, a shy boy who recently finished grade four, is one such child. His mother, Svitlana Martynova, gently explains that Artem has grown quieter since his father was wounded on the front line in Donetsk, losing a leg in combat. 'These classes give him safety, routine, a chance to be with other children again,' Martynova says. 'After so much isolation, it matters more than anything.' She spent months by her husband's side at a hospital in Chernivtsi, nearly 1000 kilometres away, where he is still rehabilitating. 'For three months, my children had no parents at home,' Martynova says quietly. 'It was the hardest time.' She brings Artem to school not just for lessons but for connection. 'He's still shy. Still closed. But he has one friend here, Misha,' she says with a small smile. 'It's something. It's the beginning.' In these fragile moments, the classroom offers safety, routine, and the chance to be with others – a world apart from months of isolation. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, Artem whispers he wants to be an IT specialist – smart and capable, like the people helping him now. He is just one of the city's children to find refuge in these child-friendly sites, almost 100 of which have been established across Ukraine by World Vision and its project partner, Save Ukraine, with funding from the European Union. Their subterranean spaces are a grim necessity. In the suburbs, beneath a concrete Soviet-style building, a long staircase descends into one such classroom. At street level, war is ever-present; below, it is temporarily forgotten. Walk downstairs, and you hear the murmur of a lesson in progress – Ukrainian grammar, maths or a story. It could be any school, anywhere – if not for the blast-proof doors, reinforced ceilings and constant reminders of the danger just beyond. On a sunny day like today, there's some hopscotch or soccer outside. But everyone remains on alert. Not far from Artem's story is that of Olena, a mother whose young daughter struggled to find her voice. For years, her daughter had never spoken a word. 'She was so afraid,' Olena recalls. Doctors once feared she might never speak. The terror had roots both at home and in war: Olena's older son faces serious psychological challenges, his outbursts frightening his little sister. Above them all, drones hum, explosions echo and the fear of losing one another lingers. 'She couldn't stand even a metre away from me,' Olena explains. 'She thought a missile might kill me. Or her. She wouldn't let go.' But two years ago, they discovered a child-focused centre – a quiet sanctuary tucked safely underground where children could play, learn and simply be children again. Here, Olena's daughter began to speak, to connect with other children, and to feel safe enough to leave her mother's side without tears. 'This place gave her back her voice,' Olena says, voice steady but full of emotion. 'It gave me peace. I'm so grateful – to the staff, the teachers and everyone who makes it possible.' The war's scars run deep, but so does hope. 'We are tired. But we are waiting – waiting for peace,' Olena reflects. 'And in the meantime, we smile for the children.' Elena, just 6½ years old and dressed like a little princess, beams with youthful energy in the same centre. She is among the first volunteers to talk to the visitors today to tell them how much she loves her school and her teachers. She loves painting, reading fairy tales and learning her ABCs. Though the night before had been disrupted by drone flights and sirens, and though she often clings tightly to adults when the sky feels unsafe, Elena finds solace in play and routine. 'She comes every day,' a translator says. 'She loves the mornings – there's more time to play.' War has become a constant, uneasy backdrop for all children here. Across the country, one in seven schools has been damaged by the fighting, many in areas taken over by Russian forces. But Ukrainians are ensuring learning continues. Many children have endured years of interrupted schooling – first the COVID-19 pandemic forced isolation and online lessons, then the full-scale invasion fractured education further. For some, learning stopped altogether. Teachers such as Olena Yeroshkina are on the front lines of this silent battle, striving to restore normalcy in abnormal times. Yeroshkina's classrooms are places of hope and healing. She teaches a generation of children whose lives have been upended. 'We can do nothing with missiles,' she says simply, 'but we can do something with children.' It is a line that echoes throughout the city's underground schools – a rallying cry amid devastation. 'Many have seen things they shouldn't have,' Yeroshkina says, referring to trauma, loss and relentless fear. The boundary between learning difficulties and psychological scars blurs. 'We go to the bunker every day,' she says. 'Every single day.' One girl in grade five began the year convinced she was stupid, unable to count or write properly. Months later, her confidence grew, and she began to ask for extra classes. Her small victories, like scoring seven out of 12 on a test, became milestones in healing. 'That kind of growth isn't just academic,' Yeroshkina says. 'It's emotional. It's about recovering pride and motivation.' Yet the challenges persist. In some occupied areas, Russian forces imposed their curriculum, banned the Ukrainian language, and turned schools into military bases. Rebuilding education is about reclaiming identity as much as it is about lessons. Still, Yeroshkina sees resilience in her students. 'These children adapt. They want to learn. They inspire us.' In another classroom, siblings Masha, 10, and Mikhail, 12, laugh shyly as they talk about their favourite games and subjects. Masha loves Ukrainian, maths and English; Mikhail prefers IT. Both adore their teachers – a small but meaningful victory in a city under siege. They laugh as they list favourite games: Who Am I?, Twister and a phone-based game called Avatar World. Masha has dyed her hair blue, 'just because I like the colour,' she says shyly, then grins when someone compliments it. But like most children here, their daily joy is shadowed by fear. 'She gets scared during the sirens,' Mikhail admits, glancing at his sister. 'I usually sleep through them.' A baby is expected in the family soon, and with it comes hope for new beginnings – a quiet defiance amid uncertainty. Masha dreams of visiting Australia, though 'not if there are spiders', she laughs. Slava Bondar, who helps run one space, says he is driven to help the next generation because his own life was shaped by hardship. Loading 'I grew up needing help – social services, food programs. I know what happens when no one steps in,' he says. 'We can't control the war, but we can make sure these children don't grow up feeling alone. That they have adults who care.' World Vision's Ukraine crisis response director, Arman Grigoryan, explains that children in Kharkiv often face bombings every night, with parents frequently on the frontline or injured. 'Without World Vision's safe spaces, these children would be stuck without seeing another child for five whole years and counting,' he says. At the heart of this effort are people like Serhii Poltavskyi, a hospital chaplain and father of seven. His children, once shy and uncertain, now play guitar, lead youth groups and teach younger kids at a local centre. 'This place – it's not just keeping them safe,' he says. 'It's where they grow and become.' His words reflect a community that has endured flight and fear yet remains anchored by hope and unity. 'Many left Kharkiv at the start of the war,' he says. 'But those who remain? They are the strongest. We are a concentrated core, thinking fast, acting together, helping each other.' Loading In a city where the sky can rain missiles at any moment, these children remind us of what remains unbreakable: hope, resilience and the will to grow. The author travelled to Ukraine as a guest of World Vision Australia.
The Age
05-07-2025
- Politics
- The Age
On the edge of danger, children laugh in quiet defiance of Putin and his missiles
Beneath the shattered streets of Ukraine's second-largest city, Kharkiv, children gather to learn. Crayons and chalkboards replace missiles and sirens, if only for a few hours. It's here, in these makeshift underground classrooms, that young Ukrainians cling to fragments of childhood amid a relentless war raging just above. Less than 40 kilometres away, the Russian border marks the edge of danger – where Vladimir Putin's missiles and drones streak through the sky, giving barely minutes from launch to impact. Since February 2022, Kharkiv has been under near-constant bombardment. Every night, sirens wail, explosions shake buildings, and the knowledge that no place above ground is truly safe hangs in the air. Yet, amid the rubble and ruin, life persists. And nowhere is that tenacity more visible than in the children of Kharkiv – their laughter, their lessons and their quiet defiance in bunker classrooms. With most schools boarded up and having shifted online, these subterranean spaces aim to provide mental health and psycho-social support, and non-formal education services to children, adolescents and their families while missiles fly overhead. When it is safe, the children and those supporting them venture above ground instead. For many children here, this is a lifeline. Artem, a shy boy who recently finished grade four, is one such child. His mother, Svitlana Martynova, gently explains that Artem has grown quieter since his father was wounded on the front line in Donetsk, losing a leg in combat. 'These classes give him safety, routine, a chance to be with other children again,' Martynova says. 'After so much isolation, it matters more than anything.' She spent months by her husband's side at a hospital in Chernivtsi, nearly 1000 kilometres away, where he is still rehabilitating. 'For three months, my children had no parents at home,' Martynova says quietly. 'It was the hardest time.' She brings Artem to school not just for lessons but for connection. 'He's still shy. Still closed. But he has one friend here, Misha,' she says with a small smile. 'It's something. It's the beginning.' In these fragile moments, the classroom offers safety, routine, and the chance to be with others – a world apart from months of isolation. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, Artem whispers he wants to be an IT specialist – smart and capable, like the people helping him now. He is just one of the city's children to find refuge in these child-friendly sites, almost 100 of which have been established across Ukraine by World Vision and its project partner, Save Ukraine, with funding from the European Union. Their subterranean spaces are a grim necessity. In the suburbs, beneath a concrete Soviet-style building, a long staircase descends into one such classroom. At street level, war is ever-present; below, it is temporarily forgotten. Walk downstairs, and you hear the murmur of a lesson in progress – Ukrainian grammar, maths or a story. It could be any school, anywhere – if not for the blast-proof doors, reinforced ceilings and constant reminders of the danger just beyond. On a sunny day like today, there's some hopscotch or soccer outside. But everyone remains on alert. Not far from Artem's story is that of Olena, a mother whose young daughter struggled to find her voice. For years, her daughter had never spoken a word. 'She was so afraid,' Olena recalls. Doctors once feared she might never speak. The terror had roots both at home and in war: Olena's older son faces serious psychological challenges, his outbursts frightening his little sister. Above them all, drones hum, explosions echo and the fear of losing one another lingers. 'She couldn't stand even a metre away from me,' Olena explains. 'She thought a missile might kill me. Or her. She wouldn't let go.' But two years ago, they discovered a child-focused centre – a quiet sanctuary tucked safely underground where children could play, learn and simply be children again. Here, Olena's daughter began to speak, to connect with other children, and to feel safe enough to leave her mother's side without tears. 'This place gave her back her voice,' Olena says, voice steady but full of emotion. 'It gave me peace. I'm so grateful – to the staff, the teachers and everyone who makes it possible.' The war's scars run deep, but so does hope. 'We are tired. But we are waiting – waiting for peace,' Olena reflects. 'And in the meantime, we smile for the children.' Elena, just 6½ years old and dressed like a little princess, beams with youthful energy in the same centre. She is among the first volunteers to talk to the visitors today to tell them how much she loves her school and her teachers. She loves painting, reading fairy tales and learning her ABCs. Though the night before had been disrupted by drone flights and sirens, and though she often clings tightly to adults when the sky feels unsafe, Elena finds solace in play and routine. 'She comes every day,' a translator says. 'She loves the mornings – there's more time to play.' War has become a constant, uneasy backdrop for all children here. Across the country, one in seven schools has been damaged by the fighting, many in areas taken over by Russian forces. But Ukrainians are ensuring learning continues. Many children have endured years of interrupted schooling – first the COVID-19 pandemic forced isolation and online lessons, then the full-scale invasion fractured education further. For some, learning stopped altogether. Teachers such as Olena Yeroshkina are on the front lines of this silent battle, striving to restore normalcy in abnormal times. Yeroshkina's classrooms are places of hope and healing. She teaches a generation of children whose lives have been upended. 'We can do nothing with missiles,' she says simply, 'but we can do something with children.' It is a line that echoes throughout the city's underground schools – a rallying cry amid devastation. 'Many have seen things they shouldn't have,' Yeroshkina says, referring to trauma, loss and relentless fear. The boundary between learning difficulties and psychological scars blurs. 'We go to the bunker every day,' she says. 'Every single day.' One girl in grade five began the year convinced she was stupid, unable to count or write properly. Months later, her confidence grew, and she began to ask for extra classes. Her small victories, like scoring seven out of 12 on a test, became milestones in healing. 'That kind of growth isn't just academic,' Yeroshkina says. 'It's emotional. It's about recovering pride and motivation.' Yet the challenges persist. In some occupied areas, Russian forces imposed their curriculum, banned the Ukrainian language, and turned schools into military bases. Rebuilding education is about reclaiming identity as much as it is about lessons. Still, Yeroshkina sees resilience in her students. 'These children adapt. They want to learn. They inspire us.' In another classroom, siblings Masha, 10, and Mikhail, 12, laugh shyly as they talk about their favourite games and subjects. Masha loves Ukrainian, maths and English; Mikhail prefers IT. Both adore their teachers – a small but meaningful victory in a city under siege. They laugh as they list favourite games: Who Am I?, Twister and a phone-based game called Avatar World. Masha has dyed her hair blue, 'just because I like the colour,' she says shyly, then grins when someone compliments it. But like most children here, their daily joy is shadowed by fear. 'She gets scared during the sirens,' Mikhail admits, glancing at his sister. 'I usually sleep through them.' A baby is expected in the family soon, and with it comes hope for new beginnings – a quiet defiance amid uncertainty. Masha dreams of visiting Australia, though 'not if there are spiders', she laughs. Slava Bondar, who helps run one space, says he is driven to help the next generation because his own life was shaped by hardship. Loading 'I grew up needing help – social services, food programs. I know what happens when no one steps in,' he says. 'We can't control the war, but we can make sure these children don't grow up feeling alone. That they have adults who care.' World Vision's Ukraine crisis response director, Arman Grigoryan, explains that children in Kharkiv often face bombings every night, with parents frequently on the frontline or injured. 'Without World Vision's safe spaces, these children would be stuck without seeing another child for five whole years and counting,' he says. At the heart of this effort are people like Serhii Poltavskyi, a hospital chaplain and father of seven. His children, once shy and uncertain, now play guitar, lead youth groups and teach younger kids at a local centre. 'This place – it's not just keeping them safe,' he says. 'It's where they grow and become.' His words reflect a community that has endured flight and fear yet remains anchored by hope and unity. 'Many left Kharkiv at the start of the war,' he says. 'But those who remain? They are the strongest. We are a concentrated core, thinking fast, acting together, helping each other.' Loading In a city where the sky can rain missiles at any moment, these children remind us of what remains unbreakable: hope, resilience and the will to grow. The author travelled to Ukraine as a guest of World Vision Australia.
Perth Now
24-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Nikki Garcia believes she was seen as 'villian' in Artem Chigvintsev divorce
Nikki Garcia believes she was seen as the "villain" in her split from Artem Chigvintsev. The WWE star - who is also known as Nikki Bella - split from the Dancing With the Stars professional last August after two years of marriage following a row which saw police called to their home, and she hit out at the double standards of how men and women are portrayed by the media. In a preview from her appearance on Kristin Cavallari's Honestly Cavallari: The Headline Tour obtained by E! News, she said: "I think they make me, like, more of a villain than I am." Her twin sister, Brie Garcia, agreed: "Oh, for sure. Especially out of your divorce." Kristin - whose own marriage to Jay Cutler ended in 2022 - added: "Of course, you're a woman." Both Nikki and Brie believe their images as wrestlers make people think they are tougher than they are. Nikki said: "I feel like when you're badass women and you kick ass in a ring, people just assume you're not empathetic. "It's like we could go kick so much a**and, yeah, I'll pick a guy out in the crowd. I'll body slam you right now. I can do it... "I'll pay for your hospital bill." Brie agreed: "Because we're pro wrestlers and all these things, we can come off so hard and tough." Nikki added: "I think that's the biggest misconception." And Nikki - who has four-year-old Matteo with Artem - claimed her WWE persona was also used against her during her legal battle with the former Dancing with the Stars professional. She said: "People bring up like, 'Well I don't know, 2017, your character in the ring.... I'm like, 'That's not real. I was playing a villain.' I was playing a character and they all think I'm that person. I mean, I heard it in court through the divorce. Because I was a strong woman, a pro wrestler." Kristin fumed: "You should not be able to use anything in entertainment. That's bulls***." The 38-year-old star admitted her own public confessions had also coloured people's image of her. She added: "Or, with me, they always want to make it about sex. Like, I said a lot more than just that. It drives me insane." Following Nikki and Artem's row, the 42-year-old dancer was arrested amid allegations of domestic violence, but was not charged and he recently admitted the incident "ruined" his life. He told the Glamourous Grind podcast: "It completely ruined everything for me. From every angle, it ruined my life completely. "The worst part of all of this was because the [district attorney] dropped the case, clearly stating there was nothing they could possibly have charged me on. ""When people see that mugshot. For them, in their mind, you are immediately guilty. "There is nothing you can say or try to justify yourself to change their minds.' Artem noted there was no hesitation on his part when it came to ending the marriage. He explained: "I wanted it to be over. I needed to go back to live my life and I need to move on — emotionally, financially — and I just wanted my life to be normal again.' The couple shared differing accounts on what had happened during the row that led to Artem's arrest and later sought restraining orders against one another, though they have now been dismissed.
