I’ve come to understand that detachment is not abandonment but rather an act of self-respect; a quiet declaration that I deserve peace, that I refuse to be bound by cycles of unreciprocated love or relentless strain.

For 14 years, I tried to keep a relationship alive, mistaking resilience for staying power. I worked tirelessly, and my world narrowed to appeasing, to soothing, to holding on when there was nothing left to hold. I learned how to accept silence where there should’ve been comfort, slept on the floor while trying to sustain what we built together. I lost my sense of worth to a hope that maybe one day, things might change. It took years to see that love shouldn’t be a negotiation, and that the best loyalty is sometimes to oneself.

Stepping away was painful, and the act of never looking back demanded a kind of courage I hadn’t tapped into before. But there’s a quiet power in leaving with grace. I’ve learned that not every path is meant to be traveled forever, and sometimes we honor love most by letting it go.

Recently, I faced this lesson again, standing on the edge of possibility with someone I loved deeply. I wanted so badly to bridge the gap, to bring her back. But in this journey, I’ve realized that love, true love, chooses you back. It should stand beside you, as unwavering as your own will. So I stepped back, choosing myself over chasing what wasn’t reaching for me anymore.

In these moments, I teach my daughter what it means to walk away with dignity. I hope she sees that choosing herself will never be a weakness, but an understanding that we should always honor our own values. We deserve someone who sees the worth in the effort we give, someone who meets us where we are. And until that person comes along, we have our own strength to lean on.

What this has taught me is that walking away isn’t an ending; it’s making space for something better. It’s trusting that when we let go of what harms us, we open the door to what can truly fill us. And above all, I want my daughter to remember: walking away is not a failure; it’s the purest form of grace, an affirmation of our worth, and the promise of something more.

—

He did not surrender,
but chose a gentler path;
not out of weakness,
but the strength to finally let go.

He gave her his heart and soul,
filled the empty spaces with care,
held onto hope for a second chance,
for love and future with patience
until it slipped away.

In the clarity of distance,
he saw the truth he’d hidden from:
that sometimes love must loosen its grip,
not to vanish, but to set free.

So he walked away;
not bitter, nor broken,
but with the grace of a man who knows
that peace and respect weigh more
than a love that no longer reaches back.

And though he carries the sadness,
he feels the weight lifting,
his own quiet redemption,
a testament to the heart
that could have held on forever
but chose instead
to walk forward.

— Sincerely, Boris

In my journey through mentorship and leadership, I have discovered that teaching is a profound exchange where clarity and engagement become essential. Unlike many of my peers, I wasn’t afforded the privilege of higher education. Yet, this gap ignited a deep curiosity within me, compelling me to seek knowledge through every available resource; both within and beyond the workplace. Each book, conference, white-paper, training module, conversation, and experience became a stepping stone, offering insights that transformed learning into teachable moments.

As I navigated the world of media and advertising, my passion for storytelling emerged as a guiding force. My experiences reveal a commitment to crafting narratives that resonate with audiences, whether through creative campaigns or impactful presentations. I believe that every interaction is an opportunity to illuminate complex ideas and inspire others to engage with them meaningfully.

Throughout my career, I have embraced the role of mentor, nurturing the growth of those around me. I’ve witnessed how the joy of discovery can spark motivation in individuals, understanding that teaching is not merely about imparting knowledge but about cultivating an environment that encourages questions and fosters exploration. Each presentation and public speaking engagement has allowed me to connect with others and unravel complexities with elegance, illuminating paths to understanding.

Reflecting on the exceptional mentors who have shaped my path, I recognize the wisdom that has been passed down to me. Their guidance has equipped me to navigate challenges with purpose and clarity, reinforcing my commitment to creating inclusive spaces where minds can thrive.

These experiences have not only shaped my professional life but also prepared me to teach my daughter. My journey has instilled in me the confidence to share knowledge and nurture her curiosity. As I guide her through the complexities of life, I draw upon my own learning journey, using my insights from both my personal and professional life to emphasize the importance of resilience and creativity. In every interaction, I strive to inspire a love for learning, fostering an environment where she can explore, question, and grow; just as I have throughout my own path.

—

In the skies, a graceful flight,
A formation of geese takes to the light.
With honks that echo, a call to align,
Each bird is a beacon, their purpose divine.

If one stumbles, strays from the way,
The others adjust, a united ballet.
Together they rise, through storm and through sun,
Learning from missteps, for they are as one.

In the dance of their wings, a lesson unfolds,
In the warmth of their hearts, a wisdom that holds.
For in every falter, a chance to inspire,
A chance to grow stronger, to reach even higher.

As leaders, we guide, but in falling, we learn,
To embrace our mistakes, and for growth, we yearn.
Like the geese in the sky, let our voices unite,
In formation, we thrive, together in flight.

— Sincerely, Boris

In the pursuit of lasting, secure relationships, I find myself reflecting on how anxiety has left its subtle, often unspoken imprints across my life. Growing up with a distant relationship with my parents, I internalized early on a sense of unfulfilled attachment, the absence of closeness planting seeds of doubt and a yearning for validation. In the silence of those unmet needs, I began searching for the assurances I never received, hoping that connection could anchor me to something steady.

This desire for security led me into a marriage that, for fourteen years, became a mirror of my deepest fears rather than a refuge. Each day felt like an exercise in survival; measuring my worth against another’s indifference, trying to reconcile my self-worth and patience with a relationship that drained rather than sustained. My anxieties flourished in that space; I was reaching for connection but grasping at emptiness. The experience taught me how profoundly loneliness can exist within a partnership and how silence can erode one’s sense of self over time.

Today, as a single father to my daughter, I am determined to write a different story, to create a life for her filled with the presence and closeness I once craved. I want to show her that love can be secure and kind, that her worth is intrinsic and unshakeable. I am learning, slowly, to offer myself the same assurance I give to her; a steady reminder that my value is not dependent on another’s approval or affection.

In this journey, I am coming to see that true security begins with me, with the quiet work of nurturing my resilience. Rather than allowing my fears to dictate my relationships, I am choosing to embrace them as part of my story, without letting them define its future. Each relationship now becomes an invitation to bring forward a more authentic, calm self. Through this process, I am becoming not only a more present father but a person capable of opening up without seeking guarantees. And in that vulnerability, I find a strength I never knew was mine.

—
​​In quiet moments, I can feel her near,
A light within the dark that holds me up,
Her laughter rising like the dawn’s first breath,
A fragile warmth that steadies broken ground.
Through storms endured, I draw upon her spark,
Her gentle hand pressed firm against my own,
The innocence she guards with steady grace,
Ignites a will to face the world once more.

I walk a road unkind and fierce at times,
Yet find my steps grow firm, my heart unbound,
For in her eyes I see a thousand suns;
Their heat is enough to melt the hardest of fears.

If ever strength were born from flesh and bone,
Then mine arose when she took in her breath;
My will to fight, to stand when all seems lost,
Lies nestled safe within her boundless trust.

— Sincerely, Boris

At 41, having lived through various transitions; born in São Paulo, immigrating to Canada at the age of five, growing up in an often unhappy home, enduring a long and difficult marriage that ended in divorce, and now raising my nine-year-old daughter as a single father; I’ve been compelled to reflect on what it means to grow older with grace. Life has already taught me the weight of loss and the fragility of existence: the loss of my left eye to glaucoma, the two brain aneurysms I survived, and the heartache that comes from broken relationships. Yet, these experiences have not only scarred me; they’ve also shaped me.

I’ve come to realize that aging gracefully isn’t simply about the outward appearance or clinging to youth. It’s a deeper reckoning with time, a quiet acceptance of the changes within and around us. As I navigate the complexities of midlife, I’ve learned to approach each day with a sense of purpose, embracing the wisdom that pain often brings and the clarity that loss can sharpen.

Key to this journey is self-awareness, particularly in how I care for my body and soul. Holistic health is more than diet and exercise; it’s about the harmonization of mind, body, and spirit. I’ve learned to nourish myself in ways that go beyond the physical; through meaningful relationships, through a spiritual practice that keeps me grounded, and through creating space for silence and reflection. These days, my focus is not on controlling the inevitable changes but on responding to them with patience and reverence.

There’s also a new sense of responsibility as a single father. My daughter, with her innocence and resilience, reminds me daily that aging is not a solitary journey. In her eyes, I see the future and feel a renewed sense of purpose to lead by example; showing her how to navigate challenges, how to face setbacks with dignity, and how to love herself even when the world may not.

Aging, I’ve come to understand, is a dance with time. It’s a gradual shedding of the layers we no longer need; old hurts, limiting beliefs, attachments to things that do not serve us. And in this shedding, I’ve found moments of peace. Life has slowed in ways I didn’t expect, and the urgency of youth has softened into a steadier, quieter ambition.

While I continue to work hard; whether for my health, my career, or as a parent; I’ve begun to appreciate the importance of balance. Each morning, I strive to listen to what my body needs, to be more forgiving to myself when I fall short, and to practice gratitude for the moments of connection I share with my daughter, my family, and my close circle of friends.

The art of aging, for me, lies not in denying the process but in leaning into it with grace. It’s about cultivating inner peace in the face of life’s uncertainties, finding joy in simplicity, and embracing the profound beauty in the act of becoming. It’s about loving deeply and living authentically, despite the scars and the struggles. My journey may have been fraught with hardship, but it has also been rich with learning, growth, and the unshakable belief that, even in the midst of it all, there is grace to be found.

–

An aging mentor, in fading grace,
With wisdom etched upon his face,
He speaks of life, of love, and pain,
As time slips by, like autumn rain.

A student comes, week after week,
To listen close, to hear him speak,
Of work, and loss, and growing old,
Of tender truths, both harsh and bold.

The body weakens, fails, decays,
Yet stronger still, the heart conveys,
That wealth is found in those we love,
In ties below and hopes above.

He teaches not to chase the gold,
But seek the warmth that hands can hold,
In fleeting time, find joy and grace,
For death, in life, we all must face.

Through parting words and final breath,
He shows the way to conquer death:
In giving love, we learn to live,
And find in loss, the strength to give.

— Sincerely, Boris

Life is a collection of small moments, and within them, we find the essence of our existence. I’ve learned that comfort comes not from a place of constant joy but from an understanding that emotions, like the tides, ebb and flow. The key is acceptance; of sadness, of anxiety, of the inevitable uncertainties that life throws our way.

I now realize that healing often comes from unexpected sources, in acts of stillness, in the appreciation of simplicity. A cup of coffee, a walk in nature, reading under a big willow tree; all these carry the power to ground us when the world feels overwhelming. I’ve learned that it’s okay to pause, to take a breath and acknowledge that being alive is itself a victory.

I’ve come to see that comparison is the thief of peace. Life’s paths are varied, and each of us moves at our own pace. By detaching from expectations and external validation, I find a more authentic form of contentment. Resilience doesn’t mean being unbreakable but understanding that we are allowed to be soft, allowed to lean on others when needed. There is strength in vulnerability, in admitting our fears and imperfections.

Ultimately, life isn’t about grand gestures but about how we treat ourselves in the quieter moments. It’s about nurturing our inner peace, about forgiving ourselves when we fall short, and about recognizing that we are enough as we are, in this moment. The journey toward peace is ongoing, but in each step, there is the possibility of grace.

—

In moments small, life shifts and flows,
With highs and lows, as each day goes.
Embrace what comes, both joy and pain,
For nothing stays, and change remains.

In simple acts, in quiet rest,
We find the calm that serves us best.
The cracks we bear, the flaws we show,
Are where the seeds of growth can grow.

We walk our path at our own speed,
No need to rush, no urge to lead.
In softness, strength, in stillness, care,
We’re enough, just as we are, right here.

— Sincerely, Boris

We keep racing down,

and from what we hear the van --


has lost its exhaust.

This past year has been one of the hardest, as I’ve had to navigate the pain of getting over someone I deeply loved. The journey of mending a broken heart has been anything but straightforward. Yet through the struggle, I’ve found that healing isn’t about erasing the love I felt, but about rediscovering myself through the loss.

Heartbreak forces me to confront vulnerability and unearth the resilience that often goes unnoticed in times of happiness. I’ve learned that love, in its intensity, is not just about giving, but also knowing when to let go.

True healing begins not when I forget the person, but when I grow beyond the shadow of the relationship. It’s a process of cultivating self-compassion and nurturing independence, not by denying the pain, but by embracing it. Through suffering, I forge new strength.

Moving forward requires a shift in perspective. Rather than seeing the end of love as failure, I now view it as a transition into self-discovery. It’s an opportunity to reevaluate my values, redefine my aspirations, and focus on the life I wish to create; one rooted in joy, purpose, and fulfillment. Growth may be uncomfortable, but it is through discomfort that I flourish.

I’ve come to understand that love does not abandon; it transforms. It invites me to love myself more fully, to seek happiness from within, and to anchor my well-being in my own spirit. Closure isn’t a single moment; it’s a series of small releases, each loosening the grip of the past.

The first step is acceptance; acknowledging that love, like all things, changes. What once connected us now drifts apart, not out of malice, but from the natural course of life. We are beings in motion, evolving, and sometimes our paths diverge.

I’ve learned to embrace the silence that follows absence. It’s tempting to fill the void with distractions, but in solitude, I’ve found clarity. Sitting with my pain and letting it unravel at its own pace has shown me that the heart has an incredible capacity for healing when given the space to breathe. Each tear is a testament to the depth of my love, not a weakness.

Time, I’ve realized, isn’t the healer; awareness is. Time will pass regardless, but it’s the moments of self-reflection and introspection that allow me to break free from old memories. Pain is not a punishment, but a lesson, each heartbreak teaching me more about myself, my desires, and the love I want and deserve.

Moving on is, in its own way, an act of faith. It requires me to let go of the past and open my heart to the unknown, trusting that something new awaits. In the gentle release, I’ve found peace. By not clinging to what was, I’ve made space for what might be.

The greatest lesson, though, is that love doesn’t belong to anyone but myself. The love I gave and received remains within me, undiminished. Though the person I shared it with is no longer beside me, the essence of that love is a part of who I am and who I will continue to become.

This journey has taught me that getting over someone isn’t about forgetting them; it’s about remembering who I am without them. It’s about finding the strength to move forward, with grace, knowing that love will find me again, perhaps when I least expect it.

—

Healing isn’t forgetting,
It’s growing through the loss.
Love changes, not abandons,
And I rediscover myself.

In silence, clarity sprouts,
Each tear is a mark of strength.
Moving on means letting go,
And making space for what’s next.

— Sincerely, Boris