The young Keni was searching for her voice. Like many women, I questioned whether I was enough and often looked for validation outside of myself. Modelling school gave me wonderful tools. It taught me posture, communication, presence and discipline. But the greatest lesson wasn’t how to walk a runway—it was how to handle rejection. As a model, you hear “no” over and over again. Sometimes twenty times in a single day. And most of the time it has nothing to do with you. You’re simply not what they’re looking for. That experience taught me not to take rejection personally and not to give up because someone else couldn’t see my potential. Looking back, I think that’s one of the most valuable lessons anyone can learn. True confidence didn’t come from modelling itself. It came later, through life’s challenges.
Absolutely. Divorce was one of those moments, but it wasn’t my confidence that was shaken. It was my entire world. Overnight, everything I had known changed. As a single mom, there was no backup plan anymore. There was no one to rely on if something went wrong. Every decision, every responsibility, every challenge became mine. I had to rebuild everything—from creating a new routine for my children to learning how to navigate life completely on my own. It wasn’t easy, but looking back, it was also incredibly freeing. For the first time in a long time, I was building a life on my own terms, at my own pace, and according to my own values. I wasn’t following someone else’s vision anymore—I was creating my own. That’s when I found my way back to myself. Not because life became easier, but because I realized I was capable of creating the life I wanted.
People often see many different careers, but I see one journey. I’ve never been afraid to evolve. Every chapter taught me something dfferent.
Modelling taught me resilience.
Fashion taught me creativity.
Real estate taught me business.
Writing taught me vulnerability.
And television taught me the power of listening.
The common thread has never been the industry. It’s always been people. I’ve always been fascinated by human potential, by how we grow, overcome challenges, and reinvent ourselves. That’s why storytelling feels so natural to me. Whether I’m writing a book, interviewing a guest, or speaking on stage, my goal is always the same: if one person walks away believing their life can change, then I’ve done my job.
Without a doubt, rebuilding after my divorce. It wasn’t just about starting a new career or moving into a new chapter. It was about rediscovering myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know what I truly wanted. I always knew I was capable of achieving whatever I set my mind to, but discovering who I was outside of being a wife and a mother , and what kind of life I wanted to create, took time.
At the same time, there was something incredibly exciting about that uncertainty. For the first time in a long time, I was curious about my own future. During my marriage, I used to plan everything five years in advance.
After my divorce, I gave myself permission not to have all the answers. Instead of trying to control every outcome, I became open to possibilities. I allowed life to surprise me, and some of the greatest opportunities I’ve had came from the ones I never could have planned.
The young Keni was searching for her voice. Like many women, I questioned whether I was enough and often looked for validation outside of myself. Modelling school gave me wonderful tools. It taught me posture, communication, presence and discipline. But the greatest lesson wasn’t how to walk a runway—it was how to handle rejection. As a model, you hear “no” over and over again. Sometimes twenty times in a single day. And most of the time it has nothing to do with you. You’re simply not what they’re looking for. That experience taught me not to take rejection personally and not to give up because someone else couldn’t see my potential. Looking back, I think that’s one of the most valuable lessons anyone can learn. True confidence didn’t come from modelling itself. It came later, through life’s challenges.
People often see many different careers, but I see one journey. I’ve never been afraid to evolve. Every chapter taught me something dfferent.
Modelling taught me resilience.
Fashion taught me creativity.
Real estate taught me business.
Writing taught me vulnerability.
And television taught me the power of listening.
The common thread has never been the industry. It’s always been people. I’ve always been fascinated by human potential, by how we grow, overcome challenges, and reinvent ourselves. That’s why storytelling feels so natural to me. Whether I’m writing a book, interviewing a guest, or speaking on stage, my goal is always the same: if one person walks away believing their life can change, then I’ve done my job.
ife rarely unfolds exactly as we imagine. For Keni Silva, the path from modelling and entrepreneurship to television, writing and finding love again has been shaped not by perfect timing, but by the courage to embrace change. By choosing to see divorce as an opportunity rather than a failure, she transformed one of life's most difficult chapters into the foundation for a more authentic and fulfilling future.
Today, alongside her partner Mohamed Hadid, Keni has found a relationship built on mutual respect, unwavering support and a shared appreciation for life—a reminder that sometimes our bravest decisions lead us exactly where we're meant to be.
We sat down with Keni to talk about confidence, starting over, success and the power of choosing your own happiness
Absolutely. Divorce was one of those moments, but it wasn’t my confidence that was shaken. It was my entire world. Overnight, everything I had known changed. As a single mom, there was no backup plan anymore. There was no one to rely on if something went wrong. Every decision, every responsibility, every challenge became mine. I had to rebuild everything—from creating a new routine for my children to learning how to navigate life completely on my own.
It wasn’t easy, but looking back, it was also incredibly freeing. For the first time in a long time, I was building a life on my own terms, at my own pace, and according to my own values. I wasn’t following someone else’s vision anymore—I was creating my own. That’s when I found my way back to myself. Not because life became easier, but because I realized I was capable of creating the life I wanted.
Without a doubt, rebuilding after my divorce. It wasn’t just about starting a new career or moving into a new chapter. It was about rediscovering myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know what I truly wanted. I always knew I was capable of achieving whatever I set my mind to, but discovering who I was outside of being a wife and a mother , and what kind of life I wanted to create, took time.
At the same time, there was something incredibly exciting about that uncertainty. For the first time in a long time, I was curious about my own future. During my marriage, I used to plan everything five years in advance.
After my divorce, I gave myself permission not to have all the answers. Instead of trying to control every outcome, I became open to possibilities. I allowed life to surprise me, and some of the greatest opportunities I’ve had came from the ones I never could have planned.
IN CONVERSATION
WITH KENI SILVA
Many times. Especially during my divorce. But interestingly, I wasn’t questioning my decision to leave. I was questioning whether I was allowed to choose my own happiness after what many people would call a failed marriage. I had friends who thought I was crazy. They would say, “Why would you leave such a beautiful life? For what? Uncertainty?” But they were looking at my life from the outside.
They couldn’t see what I was experiencing on the inside. One of the most important lessons I share in my book is that sometimes you need to build a new circle of friends—people who didn’t know you as someone’s wife, but who get to know you as the woman you’re becoming. They’re not attached to your past, so they’re not trying to pull you back into it.
There wasn’t one defining moment. It was a gradual shift in perspective. I realized that while I couldn’t change what had happened, I could choose what I was going to do with it. That’s really what the title of my book means.
Divorce doesn’t automatically become an opportunity. It’s a choice. You can choose to see it as the end of your story, or you can choose to use it as an opportunity for a new beginning, a rebirth, and a chance to build a life that’s even more authentic than the one you had before. That’s also why my book isn’t a memoir. It’s a guide. I wanted to give women practical tools to help them navigate one of the most difficult seasons of their lives and show them that starting over isn’t just possible—it can become one of the most transformative experiences of their lives.
The book is filled with practical tools—from overcoming fear and managing your emotions to preparing your finances, talking to your children, understanding how men often experience divorce differently, and insights from experts who help guide readers through the process.
The hardest part to write was the very first page. I wrote a letter to my children and to my ex-husband. I took full accountability because it was my decision to leave. I apologized to my children for the pain and uncertainty they experienced, and I thanked my ex-husband for the years we shared and for being a wonderful father to our children.
That single page was the hardest one to write because it brought back every emotion— love, fear, guilt, gratitude, hope. It reminded me that even when a marriage ends, it doesn’t erase the years you shared or the family you built together. I don’t believe healing comes from blaming. I believe it comes from taking responsibility for your own choices, appreciating the good that existed, and moving forward with respect.
Many times. Especially during my divorce. But interestingly, I wasn’t questioning my decision to leave. I was questioning whether I was allowed to choose my own happiness after what many people would call a failed marriage. I had friends who thought I was crazy. They would say, “Why would you leave such a beautiful life? For what? Uncertainty?” But they were looking at my life from the outside.
They couldn’t see what I was experiencing on the inside. One of the most important lessons I share in my book is that sometimes you need to build a new circle of friends—people who didn’t know you as someone’s wife, but who get to know you as the woman you’re becoming. They’re not attached to your past, so they’re not trying to pull you back into it.
There wasn’t one defining moment. It was a gradual shift in perspective. I realized that while I couldn’t change what had happened, I could choose what I was going to do with it. That’s really what the title of my book means.
Divorce doesn’t automatically become an opportunity. It’s a choice. You can choose to see it as the end of your story, or you can choose to use it as an opportunity for a new beginning, a rebirth, and a chance to build a life that’s even more authentic than the one you had before. That’s also why my book isn’t a memoir. It’s a guide. I wanted to give women practical tools to help them navigate one of the most difficult seasons of their lives and show them that starting over isn’t just possible—it can become one of the most transformative experiences of their lives.
The book is filled with practical tools—from overcoming fear and managing your emotions to preparing your finances, talking to your children, understanding how men often experience divorce differently, and insights from experts who help guide readers through the process.
The hardest part to write was the very first page. I wrote a letter to my children and to my ex-husband. I took full accountability because it was my decision to leave. I apologized to my children for the pain and uncertainty they experienced, and I thanked my ex-husband for the years we shared and for being a wonderful father to our children.
That single page was the hardest one to write because it brought back every emotion— love, fear, guilt, gratitude, hope. It reminded me that even when a marriage ends, it doesn’t erase the years you shared or the family you built together. I don’t believe healing comes from blaming. I believe it comes from taking responsibility for your own choices, appreciating the good that existed, and moving forward with respect.
I actually had to ask myself a very simple question: “What makes me happy?” It sounds obvious, but after years of taking care of everyone else, I wasn’t sure I even knew the answer anymore. So I started trying things. I traveled. I read. I wrote. I built my television show. I spent more time with my children. I said yes to opportunities that excited me and no to the things that no longer felt aligned with who I was becoming. Little by little, I started recognizing myself again.
Who is Keni when nobody is watching? She’s curious. She loves learning. She’s a mom who deeply loves her children and understands how precious time really is. She wants to spend that time either with the people she loves or creating something that leaves the world a little better than she found it. Whether that’s producing an interview that inspires someone, writing a book that helps a woman through one of the hardest seasons of her life, or supporting a cause that changes lives, I find the greatest fulfillment in knowing that something I created made a difference. Not because I receive recognition, but because I know it mattered to someone.
"Looking back, I realized that I didn’t need everyone to understand my decision. I just needed to trust myself enough to keep moving forward."
I actually had to ask myself a very simple question: “What makes me happy?” It sounds obvious, but after years of taking care of everyone else, I wasn’t sure I even knew the answer anymore. So I started trying things. I traveled. I read. I wrote. I built my television show. I spent more time with my children. I said yes to opportunities that excited me and no to the things that no longer felt aligned with who I was becoming. Little by little, I started recognizing myself again.
Who is Keni when nobody is watching? She’s curious. She loves learning. She’s a mom who deeply loves her children and understands how precious time really is. She wants to spend that time either with the people she loves or creating something that leaves the world a little better than she found it. Whether that’s producing an interview that inspires someone, writing a book that helps a woman through one of the hardest seasons of her life, or supporting a cause that changes lives, I find the greatest fulfillment in knowing that something I created made a difference. Not because I receive recognition, but because I know it mattered to someone.
There are quite a few things I’m still working on.
Growth doesn’t stop just because you’ve reached a certain level of success. Lately, I’ve been working on releasing the need to control everything. I’ve always been very disciplined, very organized, and a bit of a perfectionist.
For a long time, I thought every detail had to be planned perfectly. Over the last couple of months especially, I’ve been learning to trust the process more, to leave room for unexpected opportunities, to say no without feeling guilty, and to accept that sometimes “good enough” really is good enough.
I think one of the greatest signs of growth is realizing you don’t have to prove yourself all the time. You can set healthy boundaries, protect your peace, and still pursue excellence. Those things aren’t opposites—they actually go hand in hand.
There have been many unforgettable moments that felt surreal, but what stays with me most isn’t necessarily the red carpet itself. It’s the conversations behind the scenes and the remarkable people I’ve had the privilege of meeting. My definition of glamour has completely changed. Today, glamour is authenticity. It’s a woman who knows who she is, uplifts others, and carries herself with kindness and confidence. Style is beautiful, but character is unforgettable. Today, I don’t believe the dress carries the woman—I believe the woman carries the dress.
Absolutely. When I was younger, I probably measured success the way many people do by titles, accomplishments, recognition, or being invited into certain rooms.
Today, after meeting people from every industry, I’ve realized those things don’t tell you who someone really is. What inspires me now is kindness, integrity, humility, and how someone treats people when there’s nothing to gain.
The older I’ve become, the more I’ve realized that not everyone has to understand your journey. They simply have to respect your right to live it. Real success isn’t about how many people know your name. It’s about whether the people whose lives you touched are better because you were part of their journey.
I would tell her that you don’t have to have everything figured out before you take the first step. I certainly didn’t. Life has taught me that courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about moving forward even when you’re afraid. Every small decision you make today becomes the foundation of the life you’re building tomorrow.
Be patient with yourself. Give yourself permission to grow, to change your mind, to make mistakes, and to begin again if you need to. None of those things mean you’ve failed—they mean you’re living. And most importantly, don’t spend your life trying to become someone else. The greatest journey isn’t becoming a new woman. It’s remembering the woman you were before fear, disappointment, or other people’s expectations convinced you to forget her.
There have been many unforgettable moments that felt surreal, but what stays with me most isn’t necessarily the red carpet itself. It’s the conversations behind the scenes and the remarkable people I’ve had the privilege of meeting. My definition of glamour has completely changed. Today, glamour is authenticity. It’s a woman who knows who she is, uplifts others, and carries herself with kindness and confidence. Style is beautiful, but character is unforgettable. Today, I don’t believe the dress carries the woman—I believe the woman carries the dress.
Many times. Especially during my divorce. But interestingly, I wasn’t questioning my decision to leave. I was questioning whether I was allowed to choose my own happiness after what many people would call a failed marriage. I had friends who thought I was crazy. They would say, “Why would you leave such a beautiful life? For what? Uncertainty?” But they were looking at my life from the outside.
They couldn’t see what I was experiencing on the inside. One of the most important lessons I share in my book is that sometimes you need to build a new circle of friends—people who didn’t know you as someone’s wife, but who get to know you as the woman you’re becoming. They’re not attached to your past, so they’re not trying to pull you back into it.
There wasn’t one defining moment. It was a gradual shift in perspective. I realized that while I couldn’t change what had happened, I could choose what I was going to do with it. That’s really what the title of my book means.
Divorce doesn’t automatically become an opportunity. It’s a choice. You can choose to see it as the end of your story, or you can choose to use it as an opportunity for a new beginning, a rebirth, and a chance to build a life that’s even more authentic than the one you had before. That’s also why my book isn’t a memoir. It’s a guide. I wanted to give women practical tools to help them navigate one of the most difficult seasons of their lives and show them that starting over isn’t just possible—it can become one of the most transformative experiences of their lives.
The book is filled with practical tools—from overcoming fear and managing your emotions to preparing your finances, talking to your children, understanding how men often experience divorce differently, and insights from experts who help guide readers through the process.
The hardest part to write was the very first page. I wrote a letter to my children and to my ex-husband. I took full accountability because it was my decision to leave. I apologized to my children for the pain and uncertainty they experienced, and I thanked my ex-husband for the years we shared and for being a wonderful father to our children.
That single page was the hardest one to write because it brought back every emotion— love, fear, guilt, gratitude, hope. It reminded me that even when a marriage ends, it doesn’t erase the years you shared or the family you built together. I don’t believe healing comes from blaming. I believe it comes from taking responsibility for your own choices, appreciating the good that existed, and moving forward with respect.
Absolutely. When I was younger, I probably measured success the way many people do by titles, accomplishments, recognition, or being invited into certain rooms.
Today, after meeting people from every industry, I’ve realized those things don’t tell you who someone really is. What inspires me now is kindness, integrity, humility, and how someone treats people when there’s nothing to gain.
The older I’ve become, the more I’ve realized that not everyone has to understand your journey. They simply have to respect your right to live it. Real success isn’t about how many people know your name. It’s about whether the people whose lives you touched are better because you were part of their journey.
I would tell her that you don’t have to have everything figured out before you take the first step. I certainly didn’t. Life has taught me that courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about moving forward even when you’re afraid. Every small decision you make today becomes the foundation of the life you’re building tomorrow.
Be patient with yourself. Give yourself permission to grow, to change your mind, to make mistakes, and to begin again if you need to. None of those things mean you’ve failed—they mean you’re living. And most importantly, don’t spend your life trying to become someone else. The greatest journey isn’t becoming a new woman. It’s remembering the woman you were before fear, disappointment, or other people’s expectations convinced you to forget her.
"Looking back, I realized that I didn’t need everyone to understand my decision. I just needed to trust myself enough to keep moving forward."
I actually had to ask myself a very simple question: “What makes me happy?” It sounds obvious, but after years of taking care of everyone else, I wasn’t sure I even knew the answer anymore. So I started trying things. I traveled. I read. I wrote. I built my television show. I spent more time with my children. I said yes to opportunities that excited me and no to the things that no longer felt aligned with who I was becoming. Little by little, I started recognizing myself again.
Who is Keni when nobody is watching? She’s curious. She loves learning. She’s a mom who deeply loves her children and understands how precious time really is. She wants to spend that time either with the people she loves or creating something that leaves the world a little better than she found it. Whether that’s producing an interview that inspires someone, writing a book that helps a woman through one of the hardest seasons of her life, or supporting a cause that changes lives, I find the greatest fulfillment in knowing that something I created made a difference. Not because I receive recognition, but because I know it mattered to someone.
There are quite a few things I’m still working on.
Growth doesn’t stop just because you’ve reached a certain level of success. Lately, I’ve been working on releasing the need to control everything. I’ve always been very disciplined, very organized, and a bit of a perfectionist.
For a long time, I thought every detail had to be planned perfectly. Over the last couple of months especially, I’ve been learning to trust the process more, to leave room for unexpected opportunities, to say no without feeling guilty, and to accept that sometimes “good enough” really is good enough.
I think one of the greatest signs of growth is realizing you don’t have to prove yourself all the time. You can set healthy boundaries, protect your peace, and still pursue excellence. Those things aren’t opposites—they actually go hand in hand.
There have been many unforgettable moments that felt surreal, but what stays with me most isn’t necessarily the red carpet itself. It’s the conversations behind the scenes and the remarkable people I’ve had the privilege of meeting. My definition of glamour has completely changed. Today, glamour is authenticity. It’s a woman who knows who she is, uplifts others, and carries herself with kindness and confidence. Style is beautiful, but character is unforgettable. Today, I don’t believe the dress carries the woman—I believe the woman carries the dress.
Absolutely. When I was younger, I probably measured success the way many people do by titles, accomplishments, recognition, or being invited into certain rooms.
Today, after meeting people from every industry, I’ve realized those things don’t tell you who someone really is. What inspires me now is kindness, integrity, humility, and how someone treats people when there’s nothing to gain.
The older I’ve become, the more I’ve realized that not everyone has to understand your journey. They simply have to respect your right to live it. Real success isn’t about how many people know your name. It’s about whether the people whose lives you touched are better because you were part of their journey.
I would tell her that you don’t have to have everything figured out before you take the first step. I certainly didn’t. Life has taught me that courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about moving forward even when you’re afraid. Every small decision you make today becomes the foundation of the life you’re building tomorrow.
Be patient with yourself. Give yourself permission to grow, to change your mind, to make mistakes, and to begin again if you need to. None of those things mean you’ve failed—they mean you’re living. And most importantly, don’t spend your life trying to become someone else. The greatest journey isn’t becoming a new woman. It’s remembering the woman you were before fear, disappointment, or other people’s expectations convinced you to forget her.
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