By D. León Dantes | Vision LEON LLC | The Resilient Philosopher
Introduction: A First Crush Beyond Romance
For many boys, the first crush is often misunderstood as romantic. But for me, it wasn’t about infatuation. It was about safety. My first crush was my mother—and also her sister, my aunt. They were the arms I ran to, the voices I trusted, and the strength I leaned on when I was too weak to stand on my own. This is not a love story, but it is the first time I learned what love truly meant.
Childhood in Cuba: When Love Was Medicine
Growing up in Cuba came with its own challenges. Antibiotics were limited, and penicillin was often the only thing available. I was a sick child, frequently battling fevers and infections. Yet, I never feared the sickness as much as I feared being away from my mother’s arms. She was the one who held me through the shivers and sweats. When she couldn’t be there, my aunt would sit by my side, offering the same comfort with a different tenderness.
Their presence healed more than medicine ever could. In my young mind, I didn’t know to call it resilience. I just knew that when they were with me, I felt safe. That kind of protection becomes imprinted in the heart forever.
A Crush Rooted in Comfort, Not Fantasy
Why do I call them my first crushes? Because they were the first to show me what it means to be seen and held with unconditional love. Before I ever understood romantic attraction, I understood devotion. I understood care. And most importantly, I understood how powerful a woman’s presence can be in a child’s life—not as a fantasy, but as a foundation.
These women didn’t teach me how to flirt. They taught me how to feel. They taught me how to listen, how to nurture, and how to give even when you have very little.
Loss That Doesn’t Leave
Both my mother and my aunt have passed away. The pain of their absence is not something I speak about often, but it lives inside me every day. I think of all the moments my children will never get to share with them. I think of the wisdom, the laughter, and the love that my kids were only able to touch briefly.
Grief does not ask for our permission. It just arrives. But it also doesn’t erase what they gave me. In fact, it’s what keeps them alive. Their legacy lives in how I lead, how I love, and how I show up for others—especially when they are sick, scared, or lonely. That is the kind of leadership that begins at home.
A Reflection for Leaders
Leadership doesn’t always look like power. Sometimes it looks like presence. It looks like a mother sitting with her sick child. It looks like an aunt staying up all night just to keep him calm. That was my first encounter with leadership—compassionate, steady, and unwavering.
In a world obsessed with status and recognition, we forget where our first lessons come from. Mine came from women who held me when I didn’t know how to hold myself. That is the real power of a first crush. It teaches us how to value people not for what they do, but for how they make us feel.
Final Reflection
“Before I understood romance, I knew devotion. Before I searched for love, I was cradled by it.”
— The Resilient Philosopher
📌 Author & Resources
D. León Dantes
Author | Philosopher | Leadership Coach
📘 Leadership Lessons from the Edge of Mental Health – Buy on Amazon
📘 The Resilient Philosopher: The Prism of Reality – Buy on Amazon
📘 Mastering the Self: The Resilient Mind Vol. 2 – Buy on Amazon
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🌐 Website: www.visionleon.com
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