Author Archives: Y. Wolf

The last few days, I feel a slight unease. It’s like my body is reacting to something that I can’t see. I was flipping through all the things that arise my fear response, my anxiety, my unease.  There are so many exciting things happening in life, this unease just seemed like it was from another time. Then it dawned on me, it is coming up on two years since I almost lost my partner, my best friend.

Two years ago, I was getting ready to drive to an art show over labor day weekend. Several days before I was going to leave, we thought Ari had hurt his leg working and so we were resting, icing, elevating. Ari was struggling to move normally. I remember arguing about whether I should stay home from this upcoming art show. I was frustrated – my self at that time was enmeshed with our business – not going to a show was me failing, not performing well enough, not to mention the money lost which was one of those childhood fears I was having trouble letting go of. With the help of a trusted therapist, we agreed that I would stay home and make sure that everything was ok with Ari.

The choice to stay home is the greatest decision I have ever made.

We continued to rest Ari’s leg, but after several more days, Ari stopped walking. He made the decision to go to the ER. Before either one of us knew what was happening, Ari was being rushed to a hospital in the city that could deal with the severity of his illness. Turns out Ari had blood clots all over his body. They had to remove the clots out of his lungs where they found very large fresh clots amongst many small old clots. He had been clotting his entire life. This time they got so big they almost killed him. Luckily, they were caught in time and he survived.

If I would have gone to that art show, I may have never seen Ari again. Just sitting here thinking about this, thinking back to what happened, my chest tightens, I can feel my pulse rise. I don’t think I was processing what we were going through while it was happening. We just needed to get through it, survive it. Up until this happened, I don’t think I’ve felt such sheer panic or fear. Now my body is remembering, feeling, processing the panic and fear, reflecting on what it all means.

So many things were put into perspective after going through this. The realization that because of my childhood behaviors, I almost went to that art show. Not going to the art show, not making the money, it all seems so inconsequential when I look back. I almost lost my whole world. The things that used to seem so important – making money, getting peoples approval, having a “perfect” booth, doing the “right” thing, working until I was burnt out, having my own private inner space – all those things are not what life is about, they are not as important as I made them. Spending time with those you love, being there for them through it all, doing the spontaneous thing, the scary thing, embracing joy, exploring, dreaming, taking the leap, laughing, growing, getting uncomfortable to get that growth – those are the important things in life. The things that make you pause, make you curious, make you passionate, those should be chased and explored.

We have shared 23 years of my life together, Ari and I. I have not always been the best partner. I have done my share of hurt, betrayal. I have not always put my own needs aside to be there. It’s these actions that I think about when Ari shows so much love, kindness, and support towards me despite it all. As I mend and heal my self, I realize how incredibly lucky I have been to have a partner by my side for over half my life. In these 23 years, I have never felt so much joy in companionship as I do now. Learning how to not respond from my old patterns and behaviors has been an uphill battle. Now that I am finally able to live life with my true self, look at my life from my new wiring, from a new perspective, I realize how much joy I have to gain from leaning on my partner.

What a gift it is to share a life with your best friend, the person who you continually dream with, the person who pushes you to be a better version of yourself every day.

We have so much good coming for us in our life and I cannot wait to continue to grow and love one another through all the coming chapters.

-Yuliya Wolf

It almost seems hard to describe when I no longer feel like I have a dual self, a dual world. 

Duality used to feel normal, safe. One life here, one life there. Safe here, safe there. Or so I thought. 

From a young age, my world was split. I immigrated to the US from Ukraine with my parents when I was 4 years old. I don’t remember much of the transition. I do remember starting school and sitting in the back of the room trying to figure out what was happening. I didn’t know English when we moved and had to quickly learn to adapt. From that point on, my world was split. I had a home life that was completely different than my school life, my friend life. At home I spoke Russian, ate foods that were foreign to my friends, traditions were completely different. As I grew up my parents tried to do their best to assimilate, but they were in their forties, having spent all their life in Ukraine and their world would forever be a different one. 

This split in my physical world also created a split within my internal self. All of us have different parts of ourselves. For me, certain parts were shown to my parents and some were hidden from them, and vice versa with my friends and those outside my family. The parts hidden from my parents were ones that I didn’t think they’d understand or approve of. The parts hidden from my friends were parts I didn’t think they’d understand either or those that I was embarrassed about because of my culture. This inherently created two internal worlds. 

I also now realize that I created a part of myself that I shared with no one. That was probably the most dangerous part. I felt misunderstood at home and outside of my home making me feel unsafe in both worlds. I couldn’t explore my feelings with my parents because feelings weren’t expressed or shared in my culture, especially ones such as fear, sadness, or loneliness because that would show weakness. A brave face was the best face to put on while every other feeling was quietly shoved inside. At some point, I no longer knew what these feelings were, how to talk about them, how to sort through them, how to sit with them, how to do anything but keep them locked up inside. I didn’t share them with the outside world either because not only did I not know how, I was also scared to share them. What if they made me feel like more of an outsider than I already felt? I didn’t know which feelings were “right” and which were “wrong”. So I built a world within myself where I kept all these confusing, tough, scary feelings. 

This world within myself created was dual purposed also. I often felt squashed by my parents. They had the best intentions, pushing me relentlessly to succeed academically, but it left me feeling like I was drowning. And therefore, I had a world within me that I could escape to, where I could store all my feelings, thoughts, fantasies, shared with only me. It was my magical, internal world where no one could reach in and judge me, yell at me, tell me what to do. It was my coping mechanism. It was how I got through my childhood. It was how I made sense of this dual world in which I felt like I couldn’t fully be a part of anywhere except inside of me. 

In adulthood, this dual world turned into school vs home and eventually work vs home. I didn’t know how to operate any differently. This was my comfort zone. One life here, one life there, and of course my “safe” internal world. I very roughly came to learn that all these worlds were an illusion of safety. When everything came falling down, I was left looking at my internal world. That one with all those confusing, scary, foreign feelings. All the worlds came crashing into one another so fast, forcing me to try to pick up the pieces. 

I remember starting therapy, feeling like a young child, trying to find the words to how I felt. It had been so long since I tried putting words to feelings that I didn’t even have vocabulary for them. I realized that I felt like a young child because I lost that vocabulary at a young age and truly, I didn’t ever learn that vocabulary, so it only made sense that I felt like I was a young child learning an entire new language. Once I started to learn this emotional language, it was time to share it with the people closet to me who had only gotten glimpses into my internal world. Showing that internal world is terrifying. What if they rejected my feelings? What if they didn’t understand these feelings I am only beginning to understand? 

These questions still pop into my head from time to time before I communicate my feelings. Less so every time I share my feelings, and I don’t get rejected or even better yet, realize that my feelings are understood. I no longer feel the need to have dual worlds, secret internal worlds. My internal world, with all its pieces, finally feels whole and feeling whole is the one thing that feels safe – truly safe. For when you are internally whole, internally integrated, life seems truly boundless.

-Yuliya Wolf

July 22, 2026 Wildfire was finally launched. What an experience. I told Ari once she floats he can no longer say he has a boat that doesn’t float. 

Trying to process what it means that she’s finally floating has been hard to put words to. It dawned on me that in order to describe how I feel about it, I have to look inwards and reflect on who I am and how I got here. 

It has only been recently that I’ve learned how to actually feel my feelings. My childhood was by no means “rough”, but it was lacking in emotional awareness and intelligence. My parents were born in the USSR and grew up in times where pushing down emotions was the only way to survive. Staying strong, working hard, and surviving through the day were the main objectives. Putting words to hard feelings and feeling those feelings wasn’t taught and so emotions were stored deep down.

As a child, you look to your parents as role models on how to experience the world. We are born with no experiences and as we grow, our parents show us how to react to the world. We don’t get much say in what we are taught at such a young age, so it only makes sense that what you learned in your childhood, you carry into your adult life. The behaviors, reactions, thoughts that I learned as a child had gotten me pretty far in life, into my mid-twenties, at which point, those same behaviors and thoughts allowed me to make some great mistakes that affected myself and the people I loved most. 

These mistakes forced me to look inward, whether I wanted to or not. If I wanted to remain in the life I loved, it was time to do the hard thing, look in the mirror and take stock of what was. The question soon became – are the reactions I have towards the world serving me any longer? Are the thoughts I have about myself and my experiences helping me grow or holding me back? 

Before I was even aware of it, Wildfire and I became intricately tied. When I reflect back on the 12 years of owning her, I often find myself in parallel stages with her in finding myself. When she first arrived in Milwaukee, we discovered she had already lived a great life, traveling from coast to coast. She had seen many great sailing days, but she needed some love and care after sitting on the hard for a few seasons. She was also designed to be a day sailor with not much care given to having the right elements for long distance cruising. 

I don’t think she, or I, had any idea what a journey we were starting together. I went right to work ripping out the interior we knew wasn’t right for such a long journey. I started sanding all the layers of paint off until we got right to the substrate that she was built from. I realize now all of this disassembly was something I would soon be doing myself, peeling back all of the emotional layers of myself until I got to my own most inner self. For three years, Wildfire taught me so much about myself. She taught me perseverance through all of the long days of sanding. As I fiberglassed all of her thru hulls, some wet spots, and anything else she needed, she taught me that I was capable of conquering things I’ve never done before. And of course, painting her myself was a true trial of conquering fear. 

Eventually, we built a shed for her at our property and moved her out of the boatyard in Milwaukee and to our house in Hartford. We intended to continue working on her at the house, and we did work on her little by little. The five years that she lived in Hartford though, those were the years when all the hard inner work truly started. It was time to reckon with the mistakes I’ve made, ask the hard questions, and find the bravery to take stock of my life. 

The last several years of my life have been the toughest, most rewarding years. I have been on the biggest emotional journey of my life. Life pushed the limits of my comfort zone. I found myself slowly finding answers to the questions – are the reactions I have towards the world serving me any longer? Are the thoughts I have about myself and my experiences helping me grow or holding me back? The things I have learned so far in my journey have been tremendous. The comfort zone that I had created from the things I learned in my childhood no longer felt comforting. I now realize that “comfort” won’t get you to where I have ended up. 

To see Wildfire finally touch the water, to sleep on her, to experience her in a totally new world – what a true joy. To look at myself, the person I have become all while she was slowly becoming too, has been a hard reflection and a joy. I realize I am becoming a person that is so many things – confident, powerful, resilient, emotional, kind – each trait carries its own weight. Each trait can be misused, misguided and therefore the responsibility that comes with embracing these traits feels heavy. I guess Wildfire and I both floated at the same moment. We both finally found our footing, the beginnings of something truly beautiful. I cannot wait to see what she becomes and I cannot wait to see what I become.  

-Yuliya Wolf

For the last few years, I felt like I was on the right path. Today, I’m questioning where my path is.

Ari and I started our business in 2019. Unbeknownst to us, and clearly known to others, we would end up starting our own leather business. Ari had the knowledge and skill on a sewing machine, the tannery gave us some free leather, a friend gave us a sewing machine, and I needed a new bag. The rest seems to have fallen into place. 

For the last 7 years, our business has allowed us to create the life we wanted. It afforded me the freedom to explore myself, unleash my creativity, build something from nothing. Our business has taught me resilience, grit, and most importantly allowed me the freedom to explore who I am. 

Growing up as an immigrant, my family pushed hard towards focusing solely on education. Any creative outlet was seen as “play” and there was simply no room for play in a world where you must achieve academically. 

I remember meeting Ari and stepping into a world made of exploration and play. Unlike the rigidity I was familiar with, he introduced me to freedom that I was craving. He always pushed me to be myself, always trying to open my eyes to all the possibilities and supported me in exploring myself. Twenty three years later, he is still doing that. Turns out, I was the one that was terrified of looking inwards, of exploring myself, of learning who I was and who I wanted to be. 

I didn’t have the right tools to look inwards. I continued living on autopilot until I couldn’t anymore. My actions forced me to look inwards, to figure out why I had the behaviors I had. I had to look in the mirror and come face to face with myself. It has been the hardest, scariest, most rewarding journey I have ever taken. I have had a few wonderful therapists along the way that have finally given me the tools I need to grow and become who I was all along. 

Having the time and freedom to do this, all while building a business from the ground up, has given me experiences that are invaluable. I felt like I was on the right path. I was learning, growing, putting the puzzle pieces of myself together. 

Over the last few weeks, I can feel the path shifting. What once felt right, no longer feels like its serving me. The business used to nourish me and give me confidence. I used to think that I need the business because it was who I was. Now I realize, I can nourish myself and I don’t need anything outside of myself to know who I am. I realize that myself and my family, Ari and Bagheera (our dog), are what fuels me.

As we move closer to shifting our lives to our sailboat, I find myself stuck in this in between. We are still running our business, but the conversations have shifted to figuring out how to close the business, what to do with our house, the correct timing of moving our lives to a new place. We are in this space where everything is shifting, changing. It feels like the path that exists is ending and I am searching for the start of the new path. It feels like I am neither here nor there – yet. 

-Yuliya Wolf

Is it possible for your brain to wrap around being so close to achieving a dream? Is it comprehendible after almost 20 years of imagining, that the dream will actually be in front of you soon? I truly can’t say that my brain is grasping what is about to happen. 

I remember the day Ari and I saw the documentary ‘Maindentrip’. A teenage girl sailed solo around the world. And I remember Ari saying, “I am going to sail around the world”. At the time, also being a teenager, the thought to me was unthinkable. My life at the time focused on school, getting into college, choosing a career path. The way I was brought up, sailing around the world seemed like an unthinkable, unimaginable, somewhat irresponsible feat. Although unconsciously, the seed had been planted. 

For Ari’s 15^th birthday his dad gifted him ‘Anny’, a 5.5 metre sailboat, the same one that his dad grew up sailing on. Ari spent the better half of high school restoring her and I was helping whenever he would call me out of high school. We spent many lazy days sailing her on Lake Michigan without a care in the world. Just the other day, I was reminiscing about the summer I spent every day on Anny. I would drive my old Toyota 15 minutes to the marina. Ari was working as a dock master at the time and would drive me out to Anny in the morning and pick me up after his shift some time later. I spent the days reading, cat napping on sails in the cockpit, cooling off in the water, and then repeat. It was a truly magical, carefree, incredible summer. 

That’s the last time I remember feeling so free. 

Eventually, Ari and I moved in together our first year of college. We continued sailing Anny until one day I arrived home from school to find Ari on the ground with a giant grin on his face. “I found the boat”. A few days later, we were the proud owners of Wildfire, a 1961 Javelin Bill Tripp design. Soon followed the giant map pinned to our wall with pins inserted into all of the places I wanted to see in the world. And so the seed started to sprout.

I didn’t know it then, but the dreaming, the imagining – I would get so excited at the possibilities. But soon, my brain would shut that down and go back to what was easy to grasp – studying, exams, chasing a career. It was always a back and forth in my brain from the start – the excitement of freedom vs the sobering of reality. Or better said, the reality that was imprinted in me from childhood. 

These past few days, this same back and forth has been consuming me, stealing my presence and awareness. My brain is struggling to comprehend what is coming, skipping from sheer excitement to all the to do lists that are easy to understand. 

Now, all these years later, I sit here trying to understand what it means that Wildfire is being launched in a week. For so long, Wildfire has just been a thought, a quiet dream. A dream of freedom, of exploration, of having the chance to relive a childhood I was deprived of. Can I understand beforehand that a dream of 20 years will soon be a reality? Can I understand the emotions that will be brought forth? Can I wrap my brain around what a tremendous accomplishment this is?

-Yuliya Wolf 

An untamed natural force.

Burning bright through emotional turmoil.

Chaotic destruction of what exists. 

The flames dwindle.

And from the ashes. 

A vibrant resilience shines.

A profound transformation begins.

A beautiful renewal. 

Rebirth beyond comprehension.

Wildfire.