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 the recent months, I have been reflecting on letting go of someone I loved deeply and how it has been both a challenge and a gift. Though we didn’t share a long history, our connection felt like a rare, enduring bond that had felt like a lifetime of passion and care. In that brief time, I felt truly seen and accepted in a way that gave me hope, as if a new world had opened. Now, in releasing that dream, I’ve come to see that each relationship, whether brief or lasting; has shaped my understanding of how I wish to love and be loved.

Throughout my dating journey, I’ve met incredible people. Each connection has offered unique lessons, insights, and reflections of who I am and who I want to become. There’s a richness to those experiences, even when they don’t lead to lasting partnership. They remind me of the qualities I admire in others and in myself; the qualities that, with time, will align in a way that feels right. Rather than giving up on finding love, I see these relationships as part of a continuous journey that strengthens my vision of the life and love I want to create.

The more I’ve grown, the clearer I’ve become on the ways I want to give and receive love. I’m learning that love, at its best, feels like a balance of freedom and presence, moments of vulnerability and self-respect. As I move forward, I’m more intentional about what I want from a partner; qualities that foster a sense of mutual respect, shared values, and an unspoken understanding. My experiences have shown me that love thrives not when it’s forced or pursued out of fear but when it’s nurtured from a place of genuine connection and trust.

Letting go of a deep love has brought me closer to my purpose, reminded me of my strength, and deepened my faith in the journey.

Moving forward doesn’t mean leaving behind the beauty of what we shared; instead, I carry it with me, allowing it to fuel my hope for the future. I honor what was, release it with love, and step forward with renewed clarity. This journey is far from over; I remain open, curious, and hopeful, trusting that each new connection will bring me closer to a love that feels like home.

—

Heartbreak, a bitter medicine,
teaches me where I ache and why,
where I bend and where I break,
where I must learn to stand alone.

In each loss, a deeper knowing,
a softening to love’s open arms,
and the courage to seek,
again and again,
a love that feels like home.

— Sincerely, Boris

I have traversed untamed landscapes,
Where each step became a dialogue with the earth—
A delicate negotiation of trust and healing.
Roots intertwined with silent, profound stories,
Grounding me in resilience,
Stories of my ****** assault are now embedded in the soil.

Rocks stood silent, bearing witness to the relentless bullying and gaslighting.
Their stillness echoed the weight of those memories and the growth that followed—
Unyielding yet steady, much like the strength I built with every step.

In this journey, I grappled with self-discovery,
Navigating the boundaries of my being,
Especially as an autistic soul in a world that often misunderstood me.
Each struggle revealed new layers of my identity,
As I sought to understand my place amidst the noise.

The weight of expectations felt heavy,
But I learned to carve out spaces where I could breathe.
My peace was no gentle stream;
It was a summit earned through struggle—
Vast, unyielding, and hard-won.

As I ascended this demanding peak,
The view stretched far beyond the horizon,
Revealing landscapes of healing,
Belonging to all who had climbed beside me.
From this vantage point, I saw how our journeys intersected,
Each of us is a testament to perseverance.

I welcomed others not for comfort,
But for their courage,
Those willing to face the rough terrain,
Understanding that climbing meant shouldering the weight
And sharing breaths.

Belonging was not a destination;
It was a connection—a living, breathing understanding.
Our paths twisted and turned,
Yet they ran parallel, rooted in the same soil
Of shared struggle and triumph.

What I learned was this:
We do not belong by walking the same path,
But by the act of walking itself.
By moving, by simply being,
We claimed our place in the world.

Once, I sought familiar steps but found only uncharted terrain.
Now, every trail I walk becomes a bridge to cross.
And with each step, the earth beneath me whispers:
I am not alone.

As a father, I have been entrusted with life’s most precious gift; a love without condition, the privilege to nurture and guide a soul as it blooms into something extraordinary. These fleeting moments are equal parts thrilling and terrifying, each one a gem, etched in the depths of memory like the most sacred of recordings. They capture growth, stumbles, triumphs, and milestones; each step shaping our daughters into resilient, independent women. Women who lift one another, unite in strength, and rebuild a world where they lead with grace and wisdom.

From the moment I first gazed upon my daughter, her eyes met mine with an unspoken question, a silent wonder. She asked a thousand things, yet I could only return the same gaze, full of awe. How astonishing she was; this new life, cradled in my arms, an extension of myself. For every question she had, a hundred more unfolded in my heart. Who will she become? What will her voice carry? How will our love manifest, as she grows?

As the years have passed, she answered each question, both in subtle, fleeting moments; laughter, tears, resilience, dance; and through our conversations, at the dinner table, on swing sets, on our long walks, and in the quiet calm of bedtime.

With each answer, new questions emerge, and so we trade curiosity, passing it back and forth like our own secret language. What kind of friend will she be? What passions will drive her? What books will she like to read? What will our bond mean to her as time moves forward?

She has never hesitated to ask the hard questions; about my failed marriage, my surgeries, my relationships, my fears. And in asking, she would often offer the answers herself. In doing so, she has shown me the depth of her growth, the person I have always wondered who she would become.

I will never cease to nurture and encourage her curiosity, nor will I ever stop embracing the questions she asks. And though I may never stop wondering; what will she do when I am no longer here? Who will be there to care for her? How will she remember me? I know this: her curiosity will lead her, as it has always led me.

Our mission is to foster their intellectual curiosity, teach them the weight of choices, and empower them to know their worth. We show them love firsthand, cultivate their growth, teach them the value of gratitude, and then; when the time comes; we set them free to soar.

–

Don’t clear every hurdle in their way,
or hover close above.
They’ll never find their own way,
if we mistake fear for love.

It’s not our place to smooth their path,
or “snowplow” and “helicopter” away each test.
But to stand beside them and watch them grow,
as they learn to do their very best.

We raise them not for ease, but good,
with hearts both kind and strong.
For in each challenge they will grow,
and learn where they belong.

Let’s guide our children, but let them lead,
and trust them as they make mistakes.
For they must pave a lane for themselves,
to be able to fix what they break.

— 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

I am fortunate to have been given a second chance at life. After experiencing the same persistent headache every night for five consecutive days, I recognized that something was not right. Upon arriving at the hospital, the staff noticed a concerning spike in my blood pressure, prompting a CT scan of my brain.

The results revealed the presence of two aneurysms, and the medical team needed to determine whether they were ruptured or hemorrhaged. After three painful attempts at a spinal tap, I insisted that the surgeon take over. Unfortunately, the procedure confirmed my worst fears; there was blood in the cerebrospinal fluid, indicating a hemorrhage. Faced with the grim reality of being given only a one-in-three chance of survival, I was urged to contact my family. In that moment, my thoughts were consumed by my daughter, brother, and sister; my entire world.

I awoke two days post-surgery and spent the next fourteen days recovering in the hospital. This harrowing experience profoundly altered my perspective, illuminating the areas of my life that I had neglected; my mental, physical, and spiritual health. I was forced to confront a haunting possibility: a future where my daughter would grow up without me by her side. The weight of that realization was overwhelming.

I am grateful to be here today, having narrowly escaped what felt like my expiration date last April. My daughter and I cherish every moment together, and I approach life with renewed purpose. Since my recovery, I have navigated the complexities of life, experiencing love, heartbreak, and the joys of watching my daughter thrive in fourth grade. I have been rediscovering the beauty of my city and striving to prioritize my well-being through healthier choices that benefit my mind, body, and soul.

Yet, I live with the awareness that I am on borrowed time; a gift not everyone receives. Each day feels like an undeserved grace, a reminder that life is fleeting and precious, and I will never take a moment for granted. This journey has pushed me to not just survive, but to thrive with intention. I am proud of the inner work I have embraced: mindfulness, meditation, journaling, and writing poetry, each practice helping me deepen my understanding of self and guiding me toward emotional clarity. I’ve rekindled my love for reading, finding solace and inspiration in the written word once more. And physically, I’ve committed myself to healthier living; nourishing my body through balanced nutrition and daily exercise.

This dedication to my mental and physical health has been transformative. It is a testament to my resilience and to the hard-fought battles I wage daily to become the best version of myself. I am proud of the progress I have made, and I honor this borrowed time by continuing to grow, knowing that every breath, every step forward, is a victory.

—

I walk among the living, yet I feel
the dark of those who left, who lean in close,
their soft whispers like petals falling.
The day of death; today, I feel them near,
those gone and yet alive in every breath I take.

They know I stood close, brushed the calm brink,
my life offered, a fragile cord severed,
but then, stitched back with thread of borrowed breath.
They gave me seconds spun from their own stillness,
a kindness of the dead to the dying.

In their silence, I hear a call to love and live,
Not with the fury of a man cheated from death,
but with the gentleness of one held tenderly
by unseen faces, those who walk the other side,
yet send their light across to warm my face.

I am a guest here, held by the mercy of the lost,
a witness who owes his heartbeat to their generosity.
For every hour given, I bow to them, thankful.
In each sunrise, I see them wink from the shadows,
their gift of borrowed time; a vow I carry forward.

— Sincerely, Boris

I remember the nights I drowned in the drink,
Trying to blur every heartache, each thought I could think,
I fed on the pain, let it fill every space,
While the weight of my losses carved lines on my face.

Love tested me deeply, cut raw and unkind,
Betrayals and heartbreaks replayed in my mind,
Loyal and anchored, I gave all my heart,
But the echoes of leaving tore me apart.

I buried the hurt in bottles and meals,
Numbed out the sorrow so nothing felt real,
A heavy fog settled, depression’s dark shroud,
I lost who I was in a storm-bearing cloud.

But somewhere within, a whisper began,
A call from the depths, a hint of a plan,
A promise that maybe, though battered and worn,
My heart, like the dawn, could again be reborn.

So I rose, step by step, through the weight and the grief,
Through nights where each breath was a fight for belief,
I let out the tears, let old wounds finally bleed,
And started to nourish the love I might need.

I learned how to heal from the shadows that clung,
Where the past tried to claim me, I fought, I held strong,
No drink could define me, no loss be my grave,
I chose to be gentle, chose me to save.

Now I stand on the edge, the horizon is clear,
A heart that once shattered now beats fierce and sincere,
Through the trials of love, through the weight and the fall,
I rise ever stronger, still brave through it all.

I learned that true healing begins with the recognition of the patterns passed down through generations, woven into the fabric of my emotional life. My childhood experiences, whether painful or nurturing, have shaped my responses to the world, and only by acknowledging the wounds left behind can I begin to free myself from their grip. I must confront the destructive behaviours that have taken root; those subtle habits of self-sabotaging and deeply ingrained fears that seem to guide my actions almost unconsciously.

To move forward, I take responsibility for my emotional growth. This journey requires me to nurture the parts of myself that have been neglected, to offer the care and compassion that were once missing. I have learned to cultivate an inner sense of safety, to build trust within myself, and to challenge the narratives that no longer serve me. Through deliberate self-exploration, I identify the beliefs and emotions that have kept me stuck, and I work to transform them into my greatest strengths.

It’s a process of reparenting; providing myself with the love, guidance, and protection I once sought from others. I gently untangle myself from the trauma that has echoed across generations, and in doing so, I begin to break free from the cycles of the past. Each step forward brings me closer to a more resilient, authentic version of myself, one that is capable of self-empowerment and emotional growth. This isn’t a journey of quick fixes but one of deep transformation, where I learn to honour my past while fully embracing the potential of who I am becoming.

——

I listen closely to his cry,
A truth long hidden, now untied.
With love, I heal the aching past,
And offer peace that’s meant to last.

I break the hold of old belief,
Release the pain, embrace relief.
In every tear, in every plea,
I find the strength to set him free.

I draw my boundaries firm and clear,
Protect the space that I hold dear.
With quiet strength, no longer torn,
The child within me has been reborn.

— Sincerely, Boris

Nearly five years ago, I made the difficult choice to leave a toxic and 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.

There was a time when she was taken from me while I worked relentlessly to create a stable life for her. I sacrificed time and sleep, fought through my darkest hours, all with one aim: to build a future in which she could thrive. Each sacrifice, each sleepless night, was worth it to hold her close once again.

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