The Year of Sacrifice Has Ended

For five years now, I’ve been waiting for a wizard to knock on my door and force me to get off my comfy chair and go on an adventure with him. I’ve been waiting, and boy, I have been waiting.

Every year, I keep on telling myself that it is a sacrifice year—a year of patience and learning before I commit myself to bigger things, whether it is career, studies or a mere overseas trip. It’s sad that I am still stuck in that sacrifice year—or so I try to convince myself.

Every new year, I have a tradition of watching all six Lord of the Ring movies, from The Hobbit to the Return of the King. Bilbo’s adventure is definitely my favorite. This small fella chose to leave the comforts of his home and join the company of Thorin, knowing the dangers ahead and how he is way over his head. The world is too big for him, literally. Everything towers over him, yet he found courage and friends; light in the midst of darkness. He found a new him, something he thought he would never become.

Then I looked back. I never thought I would be a black belt in martial arts. I never thought I would take the N5 Japanese Language Proficiency Test. I never thought I’d quit my job. I never thought I’ll have romantic feelings for anyone again. Yet I did all of those things. It’s difficult, yes, but in difficulty we discover something in ourselves. We always come out stronger.

So this year, I vow to get off my comfy chair and brave what is out there. This year, I will chase after my dream. This year, I will fall and I will stand again.

This year I will work overseas. This year I will not be afraid to fall in love. This year I shall speak my mind and assert myself. This year I will be stronger.

“The world is not in your books and maps, it’s out there,” said Gandalf.

And out there I shall go.


To the Person Who Wanted Me Out

There are many things I want to say to your face, but I’d like to remain professional, unlike you.

You, who are ten years older than I am, you who thinks posting your feelings on Facebook will do you any good, you who clearly forgot you added me months ago, should really reevaluate yourself

You, who thinks it’s cool to say mean things about other people, whether it’s your boss or the quiet girl at the corner who is minding her own business, should really listen to the gospel and homily whenever you come to church every Sunday,or so you say

You, who thinks  that pointing your finger at me and comparing my accomplishments to yours will save your ass, you who comes in two hours late while I come in an hour early every damn day, claims that I don’t do shit when you don’t see me working at six in the morning, you better check the record again

You, who said that me juggling my work and studies is bullshit, you who think that my effort to better myself is unfair, you who thinks that me begging our boss to compress my working hours so I can study during the weekends is  unjust,

Let me tell you something

This is not my end. This is not where I will cast my anchor. This is just a stepping stone and I will go to better places.

You are not gonna be my downfall and I will not let you drag me down with your negativity. I will not stop myself from gaining more knowledge and bettering myself just because you think it’s bullshit.

You are just another pebble in my shoe. I can flick you back to the ground and that is what I am doing.

I will not let you break me, and I am not going to be a bitter old woman like you. I will never find joy in other people’s suffering and I will never feel better about myself by dragging other people down.

You can tread down this road alone; this road of bitterness, jealousy, greed and anger.

You don’t like it? Post about it on Facebook, bitch.

AN: I don’t usually post negative pieces because I want to send a message of hope. But in a way, this is a message of hope for everyone. We all have to deal with a villain in our life. DON’T LET THEM BREAK YOU. This is just another monster we have to destroy. Because guess what? wherever you go, you will find someone who wants to destroy you. Don’t kill them with kindness, they don’t deserve any. Kill them with your badass-ery!


Cold Light

I’m at the point of my life where I just want to sit in the corner, cry and let the day pass. I did it yesterday. I sat at the corner of my room and just thought about how I will go about my day tomorrow. I knew I can’t always do this. I have to leave my corner sometime—but I felt so helpless. I held out my hand, hoping someone would take it, but I caught nothing but the warm breeze from my window.

The sun was shining so brightly. How ironic. I felt so cold inside, as if the world was mocking me. I watch as the specks of dust dance in the sunshine. No patterns at all. Just random movements—so careless and free.

I went to sleep that night feeling horrible. I can feel the disgust creeping into my skin, running through my veins, etching into my mind. The darkness was swallowing me. The nights were always so difficult.

I thought of an escape, an unspeakable escape. And I stared out the window where the sunshine was. The sky now emits a cold light. It was dark but not really dark, I thought. It was dim, but there was light, just enough for me to see the room I locked myself in.

It was dim, but it was light, nonetheless.

I can still see the door. I can still the road outside.

It was weak, but it was light, nonetheless.


You’re like one of those stars in this dark night—so mesmerizing, I could stare at you the entire night. Your twinkles are so captivating, I can’t seem to look away. But you are so far away, it’s kind of sad to think that I no matter how hard I try, no matter how far I go, I just can’t get to you.

Your light is beautiful yet cold. I can see you, but you’re out of reach.

Loving you is dangerous journey—almost close to impossible. Yet letting you go is just as the same. So I’m just going to love you from this distance, hoping that one day you will fall. I’ll be there to catch you.

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It’s Not Always Your Fault


My parents and judo coaches taught me well. When you’re at fault, have the courage to own up to it and make amends. Apologize, and try to right your wrong.

That’s how I lived my life, to the point that I take blame for things I have not done. Somehow, I felt responsible for everything, from the little things that my brother finds annoying to me to the fact that I don’t have anyone.

And it’s my nature, I guess to keep on adjusting and to stay silent and to change. I keep on morphing into different beings just so I’ll be accepted. And it’s tiring. Somehow I created different versions of me to the point that I lost track of who I really am.

I looked at myself in the mirror and asked if I was happy. I wasn’t. I am not living my life. I am living how other people want me to live.

Sometimes you cannot control how others think of you and if you keep on changing so you’ll be accepted by one person, then you lose yourself. Not everyone will like you and that’s a fact. Some just can’t accept the way you are.

And that’s okay. Whether it’s a family member, a co-worker even a lover, that’s fine.

You just have to remember what you really want, who you want to be. Because it is your duty to live. You need to know that one day, you will wake up and look back, and have no regrets on how you lived your life.

And if they can’t accept you, then perhaps it’s time to move forward and leave them behind. Perhaps seeing them every day of the week is not necessary. They’ll be that person who you only see during family reunions or on Facebook.

And perhaps that is fine. Perhaps you need to cut some ties, just so you can move forward.


This is not something I would like to share on social media because it involves family members. He’s my first cousin, in fact. My mother took him in when they were in need.

His father died at an early age. He was a teenager when he started living with us. He was my brother’s age, so they were very close.

The first incident happened when I was five. We were playing a game, him, me and my other female cousin. He would hide a small token in a room and ask the me to find it while he “played” with my cousin in the other room. When he was done with her, he asked us to switch. She went to the other room and he asked me to lie next to him.

He started touching my vagina and asked me “what it this?” he just kept on touching and asking the question over and over again.

The second time it happened, I was alone with him in our house. I was seven. I came home from school and took my afternoon nap. When I woke up, he was just there. He asked me if I wanted to play a game and if I win, I will win a prize.

He asked me to stand at the end of the room while holding a bag. He wanted me to walk across the room and we will cross paths. “Simple, right?” he said. I just wanted the prize, so I agreed. When we fake bumped to each other, he touched my vagina and squeezed my small private part in his big hand. We did it for a few more times. Nothing felt wrong at that time.

My uncle, who happened to be my godfather as well, kept on asking me if he could take me out for lunch alone. He said it was his gift since he missed a lot of my birthdays. I kept making excuses and saying no. it didn’t feel right. Was that messed up? I wonder.

It was only after a few years later that I realized what it truly meant, how messed up the whole thing was. I can’t say that it messed up things for me. I don’t really have a sob story to tell how it ruined me, because I think it didn’t. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, or maybe I am messed up too. I don’t shy away from guys. I don’t shy away from their touch. Whenever I grapple with guys in judo training, it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I guess I am doing fine, despite what happened.

But whenever that whole family is together, I try to stay as far away as possible from him. I avoid being in the same room with him and whenever he spends the night, I lock my door.

I can’t help but wonder sometimes if what I feel, the uneasiness with him is justified. It happened a long time ago, and it was too late when I realized what really happened, what it really meant. He did the same thing to my cousin and she’s fine with him. I wonder if she remembers. I wonder if he remembers what he did to me.


He Will Always Be Fourteen

Young boy, I wish your life was taken from you from the first stab. I pray that you didn’t feel the other thirty merciless wounds on your young, frail body. I only hope they taped your head after your life was taken. I wish you didn’t have to fight for your breath.

I can only wish you didn’t have to die a painful death.

I hope you didn’t suffer long. I could only hope. Because you were alone in the hands of merciless monsters. You were probably too young to understand, yet it happened to you.

And when I look at your picture, a young wounded body, head covered in tape, many faces replaces yours. Familiar faces, faces I wish I would never see on such picture.

I do not know you, and you do not know me. But in the gruesome way you went, you touched many. In the closing of your eyes, you opened many others.

Say his name. Say his name out loud and let it not be forgotten.

His name is Reynaldo de Guzman
He was a boy from Cainta, Rizal.
Yesterday, his body was found at Nueva, Ecija, with 31 stab wounds
He was fourteen years old.

He will always be fourteen.