Has anyone ever told you that you can’t? That it’s too late? Or that “it’s not for you”?

19 and the moment I opened my eyes to the world!

I didn’t have an easy childhood. But I had dreams. And no one managed to take them away from me.

My childhood was partly during communism and partly in the ’90s. After the revolution, my family—like many others—faced serious financial hardships inherited from that era.

When you grow up with barely enough to get through the day, you mature before your time.

My mother fought hard to keep us in school, in the city.

We used to wake up at 5 a.m. and walk to the train station through freezing darkness because we couldn’t afford the bus. And even then, we’d rely on luck—hitching a ride from the train conductor without a ticket, a concept today’s generations probably can’t even imagine.

Sometimes we took the bus, but it was like a frozen coffin—windows covered in frost flowers, cold seeping deep into our bones. The only flicker of warmth came from a tiny spirit lamp the driver used to heat his own space.

From the station in Iași, I had to walk nearly 45–50 minutes to the high school in Tătărași.

There wasn’t always money for tram tickets either.

Lunchbox? Cafeteria? I didn’t even know those were options.

We often ate just once a day. But I no longer felt hunger.

Each morning, the smell of fresh bread from the bakery near our school filled the air.

Sometimes we’d chip in, buy one hot loaf, and share it.

By the time we reached the second floor, where our classroom was, the bread was gone.

The first touring with foreigners!

And yet… I dreamed.

I didn’t even know what I was dreaming of, because I had no examples.

But one of the clearest thoughts I had was:

When I grow up, I’ll find a job that won’t require waking up at 5 a.m.

That was my first glimpse into entrepreneurship—long before I even understood what it meant.

Maybe that’s how I survived: because I didn’t give up.

Because no one told me “stay in your lane” or “this isn’t for you.”

And I desperately wanted a car…

To never again pass out in a frozen bus or wait on the side of the road hoping someone might give me a lift.

I think many of you can relate.

Another defining moment from my childhood was when I was struggling to memorize a poem. Frustrated, I shouted, “I CAN’T!”

My sister—just two years older than me—replied with words I’ve never forgotten:

“There’s no such thing as CAN'T. Only don't want to.”

I never said “I can’t” again.

📌 Here’s what I learned back then:

– Poverty can break you… or build you

– Courage doesn’t come when you have everything, but when you have nothing

– Beauty in this world isn’t reserved for “other people”

I was 19 when I left Iași for the first time in my life.

It was my sister’s honeymoon. She hadn’t planned to take me, but in the end, she did.

I don’t think she ever realized how much that trip meant to me.

Until then, all I had ever seen was our village, Lețcani, and the city of Iași.

It was like someone had opened a hidden drawer in my soul: mountains, roads, the sea… surreal beauty.

I didn’t sleep the entire night on the way there. I was glued to the car window, afraid to miss a single thing.

That’s when I knew — I wanted to see.

To feel.

To remember.

To keep the world close so it wouldn’t slip away from me.

I didn’t have a camera. I didn’t even know if I could ever afford one.

But I started searching for a way to keep that world with me, to preserve it.

📷 That’s how my journey into photography began.

First landscapes. Then architecture. Then people.

Then life itself.

Later, tourism gave me the path to go where my photography wanted to take me.

The first things I bought with my own money and the first vacation I paid for!

🎒 I didn’t start life with resources.

But I started it with a stubborn dream.

And I never let anyone ruin it.

God, I don’t know if you’ve ever felt the satisfaction of buying your first real things with your own money…

I bought myself a phone, a pair of jeans, a blouse, a jacket, a cap, a pair of shoes, my first film camera…

And I took my mother on her first vacation — paid by me.

My first selfie, before there was even a concept! Me and my mother in Vatra-Dornei.

It wasn’t anything fancy.

We took a 6-hour train to Vatra Dornei and stayed in the home of Mrs. Eliza, who had hosted us as children.

We walked around. I took her to a restaurant.

We ate a pizza and drank a beer.

For me, it was everything.

Things that today seem trivial to our kids were once my biggest dreams.

I had never been abroad. Oh Lord…

💬 So I return to the question I asked at the beginning:

Has anyone ever told you that you can’t? That it’s too late? That it’s “not for you”?

Did it hurt?

Did it make you believe your dream didn’t matter?

Tell me your story.

Maybe it will give someone else the courage they need today.