Nearly five years ago, I made the difficult choice to leave a toxic and mentally abusive marriage, a decision that came after realizing, through therapy, that the relationship had never truly served me. For years, I had cared for someone unable to care for themselves, losing parts of myself in the process. This choice took its toll; mentally, physically, and financially; but it was necessary.

I remember telling myself, “I don’t want to be here in five years, stuck in misery and pain.” Now, as those five years draw to a close, I stand as proof of my promise to prioritize happiness; not just for my sake, but for my daughter, who means more to me than life itself. Despite enduring the trials of losing an eye, battling shingles, and surviving two brain aneurysms, I have emerged stronger, healthier, and more grounded than ever before. My resilience is rooted in a deep determination for growth, and in the boundless strength my daughter gives me. She is my constant source of inspiration, my reminder of life’s quiet wonders. Even though she is with me 60% of the time, her presence fills my world completely, showing me; through her compassion, empathy, and curiosity; how to embrace the beauty in every moment we share.

From the day she was born, I vowed to give her my best, to live up to my full potential as both her father and her friend. And I continue to fulfill that vow every day, cherishing every moment we spend together, knowing that our time is the most valuable thing I have. I take pride in watching her grow into a wonderfully creative soul, a lover of animals, nature, and crafting. She brings so much light into my life, and it’s because of who she is that this journey as a single parent has felt lighter. She has made it easier; not through words, but through the way she simply exists, with a joyful spirit and quiet wisdom that has guided me as much as I have guided her.

There’s an unspoken beauty in how we parent each other, even in moments when we’re not aware of it. She has taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world with wonder. Together, we have made homes in new places, and each time, she has helped turn those spaces into sanctuaries, filled with love, laughter, and creativity. No matter where life takes us, I know that home will always be where we are together.

Being a single father has been the greatest gift of my life. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth every challenge. Together, we’ve weathered the storms of separation and divorce, always finding our way back to each other, stronger. As I continue to watch her grow, I find myself in awe of the person she’s becoming. And I will be here, by her side, in every step of her journey, just as she has unknowingly been there for me on mine.

——————

Five years ago, I chose the way,
To leave the dark and find the day.
Through struggles deep and through strain,
I found my strength, and peace from pain.

In those many years, nothing felt quite right,
And so I left behind the sleepless nights.
Through deep darkness and trials long,
I found my strength, where I belong.

Her laughter lifts, her spirit shows,
In every moment, love still grows.
Her eyes reflect the world so true,
In her, I see all that we do.

We craft, we build, and shape our days,
In nature’s hands, where beauty stays.
She teaches me, though unaware,
In every smile, in every care.

Together, bound by love so tight,
We’ve turned our challenges to light.
In her, I find my greatest part;
My daughter, friend, my guiding heart.

— Sincerely, Boris

I’ve come to learn that patience is one of the greatest gifts I can give to my daughter’s growth and learning. Her development rarely follows the path I expect, and there are times when it feels like progress is slow or even nonexistent. But I’ve seen firsthand that it’s in those moments of struggle where the real growth happens.

There’s a saying; luctor et emergo, “I struggle and emerge” and it’s taught me that it’s through facing difficulties that my daughter gains her strength, resilience, and wisdom. I used to think my job was to make things easier for her, to smooth the path ahead. But I’ve realized it’s more important to let her face challenges, to allow her the space to wrestle with her own problems.

For instance, my daughter has recently developed a fascination with sewing and crochet. At just nine years old, she amazes me with her creativity, designing and crafting clothing for her stuffed animals. Right now, she’s diligently working on an apron from fabric we picked out together. I couldn’t be prouder of her determination and her desire to learn these skills on her own.

I’ve learned that my role isn’t to push or rush her learning but to offer her steady support and trust in her process. Every setback she faces is an opportunity for her to emerge stronger, and I’ve come to understand how vital it is to resist the urge to step in too quickly. By being patient and present, I’ve watched her find her own way, in her own time, becoming more capable than I ever could have imagined.

——————

In patience, I find a disciplined space,
Where her creativity grows at its own pace.
She creates with fabric, glue and thread,
In each little struggle, her confidence spreads.
I stand in awe as she finds her way,
In her own journey of growth, prouder every day.

— Sincerely, Boris

Let's pretend that I'm perfect
That I'm beautiful
That I'm happy
Let's pretend that I don't cry
In the shower late at night
That I'm not lonely
That I'm not scared
Let's pretend that I'm not broken
That I don't hate everything
That everything isn't always my fault
Let's pretend
That everything will be ok

In Harpers Woods, where they first met,
Kevin and Winnie would never forget.
She was in pain, with her brother lost,
In Vietnam, at a heavy cost.

They shared a kiss, beneath the trees,
Two kids, two hearts, get close with ease,
But life moved on, they went their ways,
Until they saw each other again, one day.

At Kennedy Junior High, it seemed
They both grew up with different dreams.
But something lingered, something true,
A second kiss, a love renewed.

Winnie moved to Lincoln High,
Four miles away, but they’d still try.
Their letters flew, though far apart,
A steady pull, deep in their hearts.

Through dances, breaks, and growing pains,
Kevin and Winnie’s love remains.
In every change, in every fight,
They knew they’d be each other’s light.


— Sincerely, Boris

There is a quiet weight in confronting the echoes of my past—those unresolved shadows that stretch across my childhood.

For as long as I can remember, I longed to be just like the other Canadian kids around me. I wanted to eat and play as they did, to be tucked in at night, to feel nurtured and know, without a doubt, that I was loved. I wanted to wake up excited to see my parents, to have that warmth and certainty that comes with being seen and cared for. But it didn’t dawn on me, not until much later, that perhaps my parents never received the kind of love I craved. That thought sits heavy in my heart.

My parents, bound by necessity, spent countless nights laboring under factory lights, leaving my sister—just a year and a half my elder—to raise my brother and me. Their lives were a testament to survival, and we all bear the marks of their resilience, inheriting their tireless work ethic. Yet, amid their sacrifices, I was acutely aware of the unhappiness that lingered in our home. They had come to Canada seeking brighter futures for us, but their own light often dimmed under the weight of that burden.

I walked on eggshells throughout my childhood, scraping affection like scraps left on a plate, unsure whether it was cultural, circumstantial, or simply the outcome of immigrant parents navigating a world that gave them so little. They did what they could—provided a roof over my head, food on the table—but it never quite felt like enough. It left me wondering: did they not know how to show up when I needed them most?

I carry immense gratitude for what they gave, but my childhood was painted in muted tones—missing the warmth of love, the spark of encouragement, the embrace of comfort. My father, intense and unyielding, ruled with a strictness that blurred into harshness. For years, alcohol filled the spaces between us, and fear was the language spoken in our home. I grew up on the edges, always the black sheep, never truly embraced, and never fully seen.

Now, with time, the distance has softened. My parents have found solace and purpose in their faith, spending the last quarter-century as missionaries, wandering across Hawaii, Senegal, and now Cape Verde. It has given them the community and belonging they once lacked. While I do not walk the same path of belief, I respect the purpose it has given them. Our relationship, though complex, has grown. There are moments of understanding, but still, we do not always see the world through the same lens.

They visit when they can, and though the space between us is no longer as vast, it remains. I love them. They are my parents. And as time unfolds, I hope that one day the answers I seek will come—not through lectures or misunderstandings, but through the slow and quiet work of healing. For now, I leave them to their journey, as I continue mine, trusting that in time, we will meet somewhere in the middle.


— Sincerely Boris

Father God
Doesn't spare the rod
Or spoil
Any boi or goil.

You don’t want to die.
No.
You want happiness.

You want to wake up in the morning feeling alive with each breath that comes easily and weightless; You just want stop feeling like this is a nightmare you can’t wake up from.

The possibility of happiness manipulates you into thinking you can have it then, inconveniently at the most in opportune time reminds you that happiness is just not something you can have no matter how deep the yearning you have to submerge yourself in it; happiness is there, all around yet just out of reach so that you can see but never manage to have it.

You’re hopeless, alone in a cold darkness that suffocates you, leaving you breathless and isolated from others by past wounds that wont heal.

At times you’re overwhelmed, like a deer in headlights you can’t move; feeling paralyzed not knowing what to do, say, think, should you sit? Waiting until you “unfreeze”
you’re frozen in an attempt to pullaway from an invisible hand that has a tight grasp of your upper arm. Eventually it releases its hold allowing you to move once more leaving you to now wondering, lost on what to do .

Sometimes you’re trying to find reason to live, more reasons than your kids. If it weren’t for the kids you wouldn’t be here. You have tried so many times. But are left to fight for yourself. You’re all you can depend on in the end. Whenever that will be.

I loved you like a daughter but I can't forgive you as a woman
I sure hope you burns in hell but I can't say this out loud
Cause you are my father
But you were her husband first
And I can't change that no I can't change that.

I will never forget when you called her crazy
When she put up your cheating evidence in our faces / on the dinner table.
You laughed messily and denied it cause you are spoiled
It's the same old wives tale
Someone will end it up hurting badly
And it will be always be a woman

Short daddy-longlegs
          crawling up the empty wall,
     how's the wife and kids?