When poverty became unbearable, I went abroad to work, but I didn’t know what to pay for this decision.

Many successful people know very well. What is life experience? And most of the time, I don’t mind sharing it with others. If they're asked to, of course. Achieving everything independently, from scratch, a person gradually becomes wiser and more practical. He understands the value of a once given word, does not neglect friendship and generally tries to look far into the future. This distinguishes the real hardworking people who have achieved success from the rest who grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth.



Such people can be easily recognized even by appearance. They do not try to surprise others with expensive clothes or gadgets. Do not tell amazing stories about their wealth about and without. On the contrary, they are often kept calm and with dignity. But do not take their equanimity for weakness. Because the sense of justice in a person who comes out of the working environment is quite developed in itself. And people like that can stand on their own. Even when it comes to their own relatives.

When asked about my nautical tattoos, I always try to change the direction of the conversation or tell my on-duty story about how I started having a midlife crisis and how fraught it is for a person of my age. Most often I hear an encouraging monologue in response and see sincere, kind smiles. I like it when people try to stop talking about a slippery topic. That's what we call culture, isn't it?



I actually got my tattoos in Kodiak, Alaska. There, the guys and I were catching salmon, cod, and a little less often His Majesty halibut on an industrial scale. It is his image that flaunts on my chest and can be seen even through the collar of the not fully buttoned shirt. Why do I prefer to keep quiet about it? Yes, to confess, not willing to tell unfamiliar people about how I started and in general, in what bindings I once had the opportunity to visit.

Now I am an entrepreneur or, as they say, a businessman. I have my own business, decent friends and a young friend. It's okay, things are going smoothly, and health is fine. But somewhere deep in the subcortex, I still have negative emotions about my past. Ex-wife, poverty and injustice. No, I don’t wake up in a cold sweat at night because of it, I’m just sorry for the energy and emotions I spent. If I were to exchange the time spent then for at least an additional month of the life that I have now, I would not mind.



My move to the United States was planned in advance. Because of the global lack of money. I was younger, I had a wife, a daughter, an old mother. If you don't want to, you should have taken responsibility for your women. That's why I took all my will into my fist and left my hometown to conquer other people's shores, hoping for a beckoning crisp dollar or two. But in fact, it was very difficult. Much more complicated than I could have imagined.

I even had to spend some time in the shoes of a real tramp. Ask the locals to live in someone else’s house, work for food, diligently look into the eyes, so that they are not expelled the next day. Work from morning to night without even expecting a salary. And all because for registration of all necessary papers it takes time and money, money, money. Which I certainly didn't have. Even when I officially became a fisherman, a sea wolf, I barely had enough money to survive.



But I still sent the money home. But even with my support, things didn't go well for my family. My wife got addicted to the bottle and started bringing men to our house. My daughter no longer respects me as much as she does. She found her own company and hardly slept at home. Seventeen years old, I can understand. But when you call home after a week at sea to see your own face, and instead you are covered with mat, it hurts the nervous system.

Even my mother said she didn’t need a son like me. I don't care how much money I send her. I don’t think it was without my ex-girlfriend. She, regardless of anything, was easily able to manipulate the opinions of others. It always stood out. And after a year of living like that, I realized I was starting to go crazy. Physically, I knew that over time I could just break down because of hard work, but I found the strength to go to sea. But morally, it was just unbearable.



It is no surprise that I divorced my wife. In the three years of my life abroad, we have become completely strangers. I even began to notice that she began to speak in a different way, even though the accent should have been on me all along if I thought logically. My daughter moved to another city and I only know firsthand that she is now living with a young man. She is not married, but now she is over 26 years old and is already quite an independent person, whom her parents will definitely interfere with.

And mom. Mommy. She keeps talking to my ex. She even made friends with her new boyfriend. If I hadn't had a few friends, I wouldn't have known all of this, thanks to former classmates who keep in the loop. We'll have to buy them something good for Christmas.



After losing my family, I decided I needed to change something. Risked everyone and invested in the business. Worked with shuttles, buy and sell. It’s a little bit up and things are going well for me and my partners right now. But that part of my life that smelled of cheap alcohol, hate and resentment I will never forget. I don't feel guilty about anything. Otherwise, I'd be home by now. Apparently, this is the skeleton in the closet that every successful person has. A lost family, lost dreams and hopes.

However, my current life at a basic level is satisfying. What will happen in the future will be seen later. Here I learned to keep my emotions to myself. And no regrets. Never.