The Terminal

I just got off from a 14-hour flight, passed the very stressful immigration in LAX and so you can expect that I was looking the worse for wear. I was too oblivious to my surroundings, dreaming of a nice cold shower. I was sitting next to a lady and two men on an airport bus that would take us to the regional terminal. I didn't know the lady was sobbing until the older gentleman offered a handkerchief. She politely declined. After a few minutes, the younger man who turned out to be a pilot asked my seatmate if she's alright. We learned that she's trying to catch the soonest flight to Oregon because she had just learned that her father was literally hours away from dying and she might not make it on time. The lady offered a few more details. The doctors just started administering morphine and her father had been holding on for as long as he could. I didn't know how to respond to that kind of news from a stranger but I gotta give it to my seatmates for being compassionate and sensitive people. "I'm sure your father is holding on because he is waiting for you", the old man said. 

The lump in my throat wouldn't go away. It was a hot day in LA and I could use a drink but the line was really long in the one and only deli cafe in the regional airport. I had a small talk with the man in front of me. I told him I was off to San Francisco to meet my Dad. He asked if he lives in the US and I told him, no, but he reports to the CEO in Silicon Valley every quarter so this is a good time to visit the US and bond with him. It must've been hard being away from my family, he sympathized. I asked him back where he was off to and casually replied, "Texas. I'm also going there to meet my Dad, but it's because he is very ill at the moment." 

I was genuinely sorry to hear this. 

Life works in a funny way. I could have gone anywhere else. I thought of going to New Zealand, Japan, or the Philippines instead but I really wanted a quality father-daughter time and so I booked this trip. I was a bit apprehensive because I never really knew how to talk to my dad when it's just the two of us but, just hours before we met, life showed me that there are people, who can be sitting right next to me, who are literally chasing time to be with their fathers for the last time.

You see, every day we meet thousands of people who are going through different things in life and we won't ever find out. We are occupied by our own tribulations that we tend to forget this truth and that is completely understandable. But this is a powerful reminder to mindfully exercise my gratitude especially for very valuable human connections that I still have. For having good health and financial means to meet them even when I live miles away. For having the luxury of time to do so. And for all the many little things that I should have been grateful for a long time ago. 

Overcoming perfectionism

I can still remember the day I first went to my psychologist’s office for my first counseling session. I was feeling anxious. My brain had been overthinking for the last few months leading up to my counseling. I couldn’t sleep at night. I ruminated. I was agitated almost all the time. I poured all my frustrations to my trusted counselor, all in 50 minutes. And the first thing that she told me was most of my anxiety and other issues stem from my tendency to be a perfectionist.

"Perfectionism, in psychology, is a personality trait characterized by a person's striving for flawlessness and setting high-performance standards, accompanied by critical self-evaluations and concerns regarding others' evaluations."

My counselor described it as an overbearing mother who pushes me to be the best version of myself thinking that it’s for my own good. I benefit from my perfectionism by producing high-quality outputs, having very high attention to detail, and by actually reaching this point – the Ph.D. But like any overbearing mother (don’t shoot me), at some point, it becomes just that – overbearing. For the past year that I’ve been going for counseling, I always had some new struggles to share and every single one of it stems from my perfectionism. I try new approaches to at least manage it to a healthy level like practicing self-compassion and mindfulness. Some weeks, I succeed, some days I fail. 70% of the time, those failures were triggered by social media. That fucking Instagram.

**

I am part of the social media generation. My opinion on how it affected my personality is real inasmuch as I grew up with its progression. I was eleven when I first connected my Windows 2000 computer to the World Wide Web with a prepaid card, fourteen when I joined MySpace and Friendster, seventeen when I started blogging in Multiply. 2009 was when I finally didn’t have to cheat my birthday to join Facebook, and I was twenty when my inner artsy was awakened by Instagram. My generation joined the advent of these media-sharing platforms that aimed to “share lives and connect people”. It did the job. Moving out of the country at twenty-four, I will always be thankful for smartphones and online group chats for keeping my friendships and sanity intact in the process. But it seems like humans have a knack for exploiting everything that is harmless as they turned all these platforms as instruments to either 1) manipulate, 2) generate money, 3) promote perfection or 4) witch-hunt. Finally, at twenty-seven, I had a burnout from all of it. 

As an individual who started using social media to decompress from the real world, I became affected by how they are turning out to be manipulative and, in the end, transforming me. As a young woman earning a salary and wanting to improve myself, I got so excited by internet accounts with almost-perfect lives online. I got so obsessed with their perfect skin while wearing no makeup as per their captions. My perception of a beautiful and empowered woman changed by seeing these busy, career-oriented women purportedly juggling multiple roles in life flawlessly. Fresh out from a long-haul flight yet not a hair out of place, not a single pimple in sight, and still brimming with grace in their allegedly candid pictures. New mothers holding their firstborns, all looking like they came from a salon, not the delivery room. I followed most of them. A few years later, more and more perfect-looking women sprouted like mushrooms on Instagram. More and more twenty-something women joining the New York Fashion Week, with enviable clothes and magazine-worthy photos, when I couldn’t even afford one of their tiny bags. My curiosity turned to envy. I looked in the mirror and my inner monologue kept telling that my whole life needed to be more like them -- more graceful, more filtered, busier, prettier, and every bit of "more". So when life took a toll on my physical and mental health, aka all mental and skin issues from hell broke loose in Australia, I finally woke up to my senses. Social media is manipulating my perceptions. My life was okay. I didn’t need the harmful comparisons with these strangers. Social media is feeding my perfectionism.

These are real struggles of the social media generation. A pre-millennial can brush it off and offer the best solution: quit social media. By now, we can all agree that it is impossible. Until some miracle happens that would start the Great Internet Downfall, I don’t think I can ever quit. I have long accepted that I need to manage my perfectionism, stay online and shield myself from social media manipulations all at the same time. So I un-followed people that plant unkind thoughts. I regulate my internet consumption (or at least try to). I practice self-compassion. More importantly, I hope I won’t be any more complicit in portraying my life perfectly when it isn’t. I regret that my young, show-off and immature-self used social media as a highlight reel too many times. 

**

One of my newfound hobbies is people-watching. I see people of all ages, genders, and shapes walking past me. It's amazing how these people are oblivious to my presence as much as I am hyperaware of mine. Sure I may catch a pair of eyes or two, exchange some friendly smiles, but they don’t spend more than a split second, moreover scan me from head to toe, and count how many zits I have on my face. I see strangers, coworkers, and friends who have their own insecurities too. Imperfections. Dissatisfaction. But unless they point out some mole on their face that they are bothered about, or unless they speak about their struggle in speaking English, I will never notice a thing at all. I see them as humans with their own individualities. I realized that even I, a perfectionist individual with high attention to detail, don’t even see imperfections when I look at people – so then why do I have to do that to myself?

Twenty seven years

The first quarter of this year had been very eventful for me. Aside from the general turning-over-a-new-leaf, early this year was when both of my parents left their forties and I turned 27, and when Jay and I celebrated three years of being together. It was also when I achieved some career milestones – sealing two research footprints and reaching the halfway mark of my PhD program. I have so much to say, being the reflective person that I am, for each of these milestones but how do I write without being redundant? How do I write something relatable? The learnings, stories, and emotions have been scattered in my head for a long time and it’s only today that I realized why I haven’t been able to write – because an adult life is not anymore a box divided into love, family, and career. It’s rather a continuous thread that entwines all aspects of our lives that has to be viewed altogether.

******

Until I was eighteen, I used to think that actors past 25 are old in a sense that they should stop acting in romantic comedy movies because 25 year-olds are not charming anymore. Don’t shoot me, I was naïve. Now that I am 27, past the 'expiration' age according to my younger self, I still do not feel any different than when I was 22, at least in the context of youth. I am healthy and fit, I still get carded at the liquor store when I don’t wear makeup, and aside from the lost cheek fat, I generally feel no difference. What drastically changed was my life outside the skin-deep markers of age. Now, I have more freedom in almost all aspects of my life – financial, social and personal. My parents have stopped interfering, or even at least commenting, on my life decisions and they have long held me accountable for the outcomes of my choices. I moved out when I was 24. I earn and manage my finances. I pay my own rent, buy my groceries and pay for my insurance. Coming from a very conservative and protective family, this is a drastic and welcome change that my 18-year-old self would have never seen coming.

You see, it all sounds exciting until it becomes overwhelming or in other words, “adulting”. That dreaded stage of our 20’s when life is suddenly full of responsibilities, expectations, and judgments, and never about enjoying our long-awaited freedom anymore. I still want to feel young, energetic, and free from lifelong commitments and yet life shoves too many overwhelming responsibilities and sets impossible life deadlines that, according to society, I should have met by now.

It doesn’t mean that the society is the only one at fault for my adulting fiasco. To illustrate, if my life is a biopic, all my travel and vacation memories will not be part of the highlights. Instead, it will show what I think are the best versions of myself: hardworking and motivated student, a good daughter to her parents, a career-oriented woman, and a loving and supportive partner. I used to measure my self-worth by my achievements and never by my efforts. So last year, when life demands suddenly became unmanageable and goals got unattainable, my sense of self-worth was shaken and so was my mental health. I had episodes of depression. My desire to meet my unrealistic expectations heightened my anxieties. I became too anxious towards my health. My homesickness turned to excessive worrying. I hated myself so I poured all my time and attention towards my relationship that eventually turned to unhealthy overdependence. I was a mess.

******

Counseling and self-help materials guided me on how to give the same love, compassion, and sympathy that I give to other people towards myself without feeling narcissistic and selfish. It’s the same love acknowledges my own achievements, no matter how big or small, even when the only achievement is to get out of the house to fight depression. It’s the same self-love that made me proud of my position in academia – despite the mockery and ignorance of other people about what I do. I learned that for as long as I give my best in whatever I do and believe that in good faith, it will somewhat contribute to this world, then I should be proud of myself.

******

They say, people who do not love at all, not even himself, do not fear anything. I knew that love is at the core of all my fears and anxieties but while they all came from good intentions, it made me unhealthy. I was not ready to process the new layers of life that I had experienced. Ones that only come with age and maturity. I never doubted my love for my parents, but it’s only now that I can finally understand their love. Parents have their own dreams, feelings, and ambitions that do not necessarily revolve around their children but it’s their selflessness and love that made them set aside their individualities. Perry and Lily are people before they are my parents. I grow up as much as they grow old. While that fact still wrenches my heart, it is a reality that I have come to terms with only now that I am older. 

******

Perhaps the culmination of my learnings on love and life is my relationship with Jay. Out of all the things told about love, this I proved true: relationships need as much work as love for it to work. We could have given up a long time ago. It was a time when being single was far more practical and convenient than spending all our salaries searching for every possible way to stay together in a country that neither of us calls home. For Jay, whose home country shines brighter than where he moved to, he really had no reason to stay. And after countless failures, thousands of dollars and a surgery, safe to say we had all the logical reasons to end our relationship. But the simple reason why we held on was also the main reason why our relationship began: we really love each other. I was certain that I will never find another love like ours and I have no reason to find it in someone else – period.

I believe in fate. Fate is the reason why we met in the first place. It was fate that aligned our lucky stars and opened both our PhD programs in the same city. And it was also fated that we both have the most supportive parents who never held us back. But just as much as the hands of God worked in our lives, it was also our hard work that led us here. Where we are right now is the sum of all our efforts - from persistent applications, ardent long-distance communications, and daily language lessons, down to our commitment to stay together through thick and thin. I know it sounds like a lot of work, but if you're fighting for the right person, believe me when I say you'll never think twice. 

******

One thousand three hundred words were written, and yet I still don’t know the secret to a good life.  I don't know the secret to a lasting marriage. Twenty-seven years later and yet I am still clueless about this world. But what I do know by now is I should live more ardently and passionately each day. That I should stop pursuing a happy life, but rather a life full of meaning. Twenty-seven more years later, I hope I can say I lived rather well.  

September 11

It was a Wednesday morning in Philippines. My parents were watching the early morning news. Their eyes were glued to the screen and their faces looked terrified as they watched the footage of a plane crashing two towers. I was ten years old. That was the first time I heard about the Twin Towers, World Trade Center and the word “terrorism”. Growing up, I became more familiar with what happened. Like the rest of us, I saw the haunting photos, heart-wrenching videos, and tributes to all the fallen ones that are circulated every year. I thought my knowledge was enough and my visit to the Ground Zero would not give me anything new aside from photos but I was wrong. 

By the time I visited the Ground Zero Memorial, I already saw more than half of New York’s most famous attractions. I went to Columbia, Times Square, The Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, the new World Trade Center - basically most of Manhattan. It was already 4pm when my friend and I checked out the charging bull and the fearless girl so I was already feeling tired yet satisfied with our city tour. But my friend said “Hey the 9/11 memorial is just around the corner. Let’s go!” I dragged my feet until we reached two huge sites of absence surrounded by tourists in the middle of the concrete jungle. There was a sense of peace, gratitude, and respect. At the same time, chills went down my spine as I look at its emptiness.

It was a paradox. Not a sight of the tragedy was present except for the memorial but I felt that I was taken back to September 11, 2001, as I stared at the ground zero. Men and women in suits were about to start their day, with Starbucks coffee on one hand and a phone in the other. It was supposedly just another busy Monday in this vibrant city and then, suddenly, something unbelievable had happened. The city of New York went pitch black with ashes. I could not believe that a tragedy with this magnitude transpired in this city that, albeit my short stay, made me feel I am most welcome. Here in the city that, in my opinion, best represents the American dream. Now that I've seen the beauty of New York, I could not, for the life of me, imagine the horror that was 9/11.

The lump in my throat wouldn’t go away when I saw the names of 2,983 victims inscribed on the parapets surrounding the memorial pools. Among the thousands of names engraved on the stone, Ronald Magnuson’s name caught my eye. 

His obituary says,“After some 40 years working on Wall Street, most recently as a Cantor Fitzgerald consultant, he was still thrilled by the neighbor hood's pace and power. He raised his children — Sheryl, 20, and Jeff, 23 — to love conversation as much as he did. His idea of a great night out was a rousing talk over a restaurant dinner, with any or all of the members of his family.”

There were so many names in front of me. So many innocent people lost their lives here in the exact spot where I was standing, well and alive, at the very moment. It was indeed a moment of paradox. We had dinner, then my friend and I parted ways. He went home to his place in Washington DC where he just started his life in the USA. I, on the other hand, went home and processed everything I saw in New York. I finally let go of the lump in my throat and wept for the lives that were lost sixteen years ago. After what seemed like hours of grieving, I said a little prayer of gratitude for my life and for the chance to experience this. 

“What separates us from the animals, what separates us from the chaos, is our ability to mourn people we’ve never met.” – David Levithan

Day 8: A place you've traveled to

August 4, 2017. I was very exhausted. Work demands, mental health issues, and relationship challenges have taken a toll on me. I flew out to the States hoping for a sweet escape, some rest, and time to write my blog. So upon arrival, I rushed to my accommodation, pulled up the shades and saw this Upper Manhattan view then suddenly, all my problems were forgotten. Well hello, New York City!                                                                                                                                          

***** 

A few months back, my supervisor urged me to submit an abstract for a conference in New York. While I was glad that my abstract was accepted, every researcher knows that it takes months of rigorous laboratory work to pull off 15 slides worth of a scientific presentation. It was not a problem if working hard is the only thing that I had to do. Unfortunately, it was also during those months that my personal life has become a mess. Jay and I got into an almost endless bureaucracy that has already cost us five figures (in dollars) and innumerable stressful days and nights. I felt very helpless to see both of us falling apart in a country where we only have each other - no friends, no family. On so many nights, we talked about throwing the towel and cutting our losses. That we just pack our bags and go back home. That we stop forcing ourselves to fit into the very high standards of this country when he has a first world country to go back to anyway. No words can explain how painful it was for me because just barely a year ago, I was crying, wishing and praying on bended knees for this PhD and now I might have to give it all up. 

The bureaucracy, work, and bills pushed us to the brink of our (my) sanity. I went to counseling and leaned on good people to seek encouragement and stay afloat. With their help, I managed to show up to work, albeit looking very tired and disheveled, and gave my best as if my personal issues did not affect my ability to be a scientist. I pushed my stressed mind to publish. To write and revise manuscripts. I worked tirelessly on the biggest academic hurdle of my PhD. Two days prior to my New York trip, an academic panel was still grilling me with questions as they decided on whether to confirm or reject me into the PhD program of The University of Queensland. I passed. I gathered my documents, packed my bags and flew to face another challenge that awaited me at the other side of the world.

***** 

Columbia University, August 2017.

It is no secret that my lifelong dreams are deeply aligned with educational achievements. My parents may not have afforded to send me to an Ivy League institution and I'm fine with that but I will still pass this dream to my future kids and to their kids until someone in the family finally gets an Ivy League degree. Haha. So imagine my happiness when I got the opportunity to present my work at Columbia University, no less.

My presentation was bombarded with so many questions that, even the audience thought, were harsh for a one-year-old research. But you know, they could have grilled me for one day and I wouldn’t care less. Never in my three years in research have I been that calm, collected and spontaneous in speaking about my work. Never have I had people approaching me, asking more about my work, offering collaborations, and requesting copies of my presentation. 

Later at the gala dinner, I was sipping my champagne and looking at the Manhattan skyline aboard the Liberty Belle when a woman walked towards me. She said smiling, “I just want you to know that you did a great job in your presentation. I thought they were tough, but you were tougher."

***** 

And that’s how I will remember my New York trip. Frank Sinatra was not lying when he said, “If I can make it here, I’ll make it anywhere” because that was how New York made me feel. In the midst of nagging thoughts, regrets, homesickness and life questions, this glorious city celebrated my efforts for what it's worth, gave me a tap on the back, reminded me why I am still here thriving, and assured me that I will make it. So thank you, NYC. I really needed that. 

New Beginnings by Lang Leav

If I have learned anything this year, it is that I won't ever be ready for what life throws at me. I won't have the right words when it counts; I won't know what to choose when fate itself is staring me down. But now I know I don't always need to have the right answer. 

I've learned I can go on waiting for something, sustained by hope and nothing more -- or I can put it aside and shrug my shoulders. Bravely accept the fact that I can't keep my heart safe any more than I can stop love from taking everything from me. 

I have learned to stop saying yes when I don't mean it -- to live as authentically as I know how. To allow the tips of my fingers to skirt the darkness, as long as I remember to keep my eyes fixed on the light. And as one door opens and another closes, I will move forward with the knowledge that unlike so many others, I have another year ahead of me -- another shot at making it all the way around the sun, and a chance to get it right this time around. 

2016: A Cautionary Tale

My life has quite a number of memorable years. There was 2009 when I battled a long and agonizing depression so painful that it became one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. There was also 2012 when I passed the licensure boards -- the year when my hardships have finally started gaining recognition. 2014 is also on the list being it was the year when I grew balls of courage. And then of course, 2016.

2016 was extraordinarily overwhelming in all ways. Political turmoils here and there, wars, earthquakes, deaths and other disasters, and the internet made sure that we see it unfold before our very eyes. It was tremendously exhausting to witness everything and be able to do nothing about it. It's always good to stay informed and not be an ignorant citizen of this planet but 2016 made me want to pause, throw my phone and just escape from the civilization. 

Above everything, this year was heaving with personal endeavours that stretched all my emotional limits. There were so many blessings to be thankful for, mainly for my master’s degree and for the PhD opportunity that I was granted all in a single year. The scholar in me is very pleased with all the accomplishments and with the very exciting future ahead. It was all that I wanted from the very start: be a doctor then pursue research. These are wonderful blessings that sadly came with a price -- my physical, emotional and mental health.

The rigorous and demanding work culture that I had to endure in Korea caused my health to deteriorate. 14 hours of daily work for two years and a total of 21 vacation leaves, and for all those vacations, I had to work tirelessly til past midnight prior to leaving and I had to report to work as soon as the plane landed. During the final year of my masters program, I was in and out of the doctor's office almost every month until my graduation for infections that my body should have fought had it been healthier.

In February of 2016, I went back home to Philippines with a firm goal to do my phD in Australia so that Jay and I can pursue our international research career together. Jay, given his powerful passport, obtained a visa to work in Australia without batting an eyelash while I struggled my way to enter Australia. It was study or nothing for a young, inexperienced Filipino who doesn't have enough qualifications to migrate in a first world country. Hence, all the seemingly endless and heightened anxieties in my head. It was a very long and stressful process -- sending numerous applications, being rejected, completing endless paperwork, requesting school documents from two countries, and all the stressful deadlines. All the waiting and worrying hurt so much because there were so much at stake -- my dream and my love were both waiting for me at the end of the tunnel but I couldn't get through. I was under severe stress and anxiety for five months; almost half a year of missed meals, sleepless nights and physical inactivity sure placed my life in a limbo. In July, my visa got approved and I moved to the Land Down Under.

Six months since I moved to Australia, I thought I'll be fine by now but I'm not. I still suffer from anxiety, triggered by almost every minor instability and problem that I encounter. I once went to the nurse because my skin got pierced by a needle, fearing an infection. I used to stay awake til 3AM, searching about cancer because I felt a tinge of pain in my stomach that lasted for only 3 seconds. I got depressed from every pimple that I got. Missing receipts and unpaid bills stressed me out. In a nutshell, I was agitated from anything that got out of my control. Unhealthy, I know.

It's now 2017 and I'm very much determine to turn a new page in my life. I'm trying to let go of all my emotional burdens, and release the stress that had dragged me down in the last two years. Looking back, I can't help but feel terrified with what stress had done to myself, hence it gave me the motivation to overcome it once and for all. I recently cut my coffee intake from five cups a day (five!!) to one and switched to tea instead. I started exploring new hobbies. I walk more, sleep more and work less all for the hope that I'll get the healthier and more stable self that I once had.

This is my life in a time of weakness, written in less than 1000 words. May this serve as a cautionary tale for people who refuse to take a break. People tend to give up everything that we have for that one thing that we want, and in the end it's all we have. It shouldn't be that way. Please spend time with your loved ones, breathe some fresh air and remember that everything will be okay. I wish you well this year and in the next years to come.

Stuck in a moment

But darling look at you, you gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight. These tears are going nowhere baby. You got to get yourself together. You've got stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it. Don't say that later will be better. You've got stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it. 

For the past few years, I allowed myself to succumb to anxiety and panics that were brought by the dreaded quarter-life. One moment I was trying to enjoy, travel and meet new friends then suddenly, quarter-life crisis shook my entire life. Challenges are now beyond my abilities and people’s expectations became higher than the dreams I set myself upon. So as a competitive person, I got absorbed in reaching my future goals and laying the groundwork for my life plans. I worked, planned and planned ahead -- way ahead of my life’s vision. I wasted days and nights sweating the small stuff and fearing things that might not even happen. I lost my nerves for every single thing that didn’t turn out as planned. I was terrified that all these small things will reverberate to the big plan. I stopped watching new movies because I couldn’t connect with the story anymore since my brain keeps on going back to my life thoughts. I couldn’t even finish one movie without being distracted by my phone. I also stopped entertaining myself through music or better-said music doesn’t entertain me anymore. I shut myself out from the world, rejecting all travel plans and parties with friends for fear of losing focus on my goals. I deferred any form of gratification such that in my head I always thought, “Nah I’ll do that after graduation. Or after I got accepted. Or after my application got approved.”

November 11, 2016. I graduated, got accepted in the phD, and my 5-yr stay in Australia has long been approved, but I’m still not doing the things that I said I would do. I’m here in another country, with more freedom than I ever had, but I still curl up in my bed watching How I Met Your Mother and Friends all weekend. I have more time after work but I use it to sleep early. I keep on saying that life in Australia is painfully dull and boring, and to some extent it’s true, but I think my tendency to delay gratification is the main reason why I have a very uneventful life. I always wait for a better, next time.

It’s incredibly sad to see my life like this. Maybe this is what happens when a person fails to manage his thirst to reach his goals. Now I don’t know how to focus and finish a good movie anymore. I don’t even know how to have fun. And sadly, I have no idea how to turn my life around and make it more exciting and fulfilling, but for now, I’ll start by listening to music once again.

Dealing with closed doors

“Somethings worth having defy logic. They come with obstacles, challenges, battles and long periods of wandering in the dark. Your path won't make sense to your family or friends. People will weigh in with their life rules and fears, but in the end it is your life. That pull you feel is real and often your intuition. It nags at you everyday. Follow it for as far as it takes you because life is too short to dwell on indecision, while you forget to live. Take a chance because if you have a good heart God isn't going to abandon you. He will travel wherever you need to go, in order to find the missing pieces of your soul.” ―                                                                                                                   Shannon L. Alder

2016 was a one hell of a ride: achieving my lifelong dream of getting an overseas postgrad degree, being with the love of my life and all the separations and challenges in between, and embarking on fulfilling another lifelong dream. I started the year from the north of the world and I'm ending it here down under in Australia where I was accepted in one of its institutions under a full-scholarship phD program. Yes, the phD, my next starting line. The phD opportunity was not granted without trials and tribulations, in fact I can still remember all the sleepless nights and tearful prayers during my application. The summer of this year was a whirlwind of emotional stress, anxiety and desperation as I clung to fate and sheer luck. Fast forward to November, I am now four months into my program achieving reasonable progress and trying to contribute to the institution that made my dream possible. 

Having said, this is my most important take-home in 2016: Let go and let God. Looking at how things turned in my life this year, I am sure that I did not get here on my own. Not on my might, not on my own abilities. I was rejected more than once, and just when I was about to lose hope God turned things around in my favor and opened doors for me just at the nick of time. If that wasn't a miracle, then I don't know what is. 

Having said, this is my takehome lesson from 2016: believe in Him. Even when life gets hard, when things are not in your favor, or even when life seemed to have closed all its doors for you. Even then, especially then, you should never stop believing in the miracle of the Lord. So let's hang in there and finish the year strong. God bless you. 

The End of the Line.

After twenty months and eight seasons in the land of kimchi, my time here in Korea is almost over. I have three weeks prior my GRE exam, six weeks prior to my defense,  and eight weeks before I get my new passport so I can travel again. From there, I have to face the million dollar question that is Where to? 

But before deciding my next step, it is highly fitting to look back on one of the best decisions of my life.  This is one of my greatest feat in life. You see, two years ago, I was a whiny employee who hates every single day of the week that isn't Saturday, Sunday or a holiday. I hated my job. I always thought that I was too good for that company and that I wasn't a fit in an environment that does not encourage class and etiquette. I worked in a company where my father was once a top boss and I hated living under his shadow. I had all the excuses. I was too proud of myself. I knew that something was wrong with me and that I needed a change. 

The opportunity to study in Korea came just in time but nevertheless, it wasn't an easy decision to make. I had to persuade my parents to let go of their daughter. It was difficult for me to pause my career clock because I know years of experience matters a lot in my field. Two months prior leaving, I was still going to job interviews and job hunting because I wanted to know if this is the right decision for me. But like they said, you just know when you found the one. So I trusted that gut feeling, grew some woman balls and took that plane to Korea. The rest, my friends, is a long and wonderful journey.

I was able to send myself to grad school in a good engineering university without any financial support from my parents. I survived a country that speaks a different language and I learned the language! I met a lot of people -- great people, if I may add -- and these people opened my eyes to the world. And most importantly, I learned a lot of life lessons. I finally have my own story. The great adventure of Heidy. The girl who grew a set of balls. The girl who followed her guts. The girl who fell in love in a foreign land. Yes, I fell in love with a Korean man. But that is another long story for another post (It's going to be legen- wait for it!)

But it's now time to go. I have to decide on whether I go home, find my luck here, or go forward to the direction of my original dream. My life is in a limbo right now. I haven't seen any opportunities either here, home, or in another country. Zero. I'm just moving through my days with faith, hoping that God will show me the way. Add the anxiety that decision-making at 24 is not as easy when I was 22. I'm not getting any younger. I can't just blindly follow my passion. Adult responsibilities are tailing me and I can't escape it anymore. I have to consider my career. I have to consider the near future of settling down and the stable career that I need to sustain a family. I have to consider my gifts and talents that will fuel my determination to succeed in life. I have to go somewhere that will add more value to my life.

But God has a plan. He has a better plan. Everything will be alright.... everything will be alright....
I'll see you at my next starting line.

The First Blood of 2015

*Warning: Crappy blog ahead.*

I wish I have twenty four more hours in my hand each day. 

It's been only a week since I got back from my two-week vacation in the Philippines and yet I couldn't have been more overwhelmed. 2015 filled my plate early on and I came unprepared. I have to conduct more tedious experiments, write a scientific paper for publication as soon as possible, study for graduate exams, study for my experiments, coursework, and I don't know -- rest and a movie or two, perhaps? 

Last year, my days were just spent on either doing experiment, sleeping, and exercising and I barely had time for anything else. This year is definitely busier that's why my time management skill set is screaming red and crying out for help. 

Gah. I can do this. 

Adding Life to My Years

Nowadays I've been spending my free time either trekking a mountain, running, exercising, meeting precious friends, exploring a new place or taking my time alone. My free time has never been this limited so I need to spend it wisely. I finally stopped sulking on weekends, being with people that I don't like and spending a day on making a one-page report just because I don't feel productive. Life is too short for that. I need to give my time to people and things that will add life to my years. 

Why am I Single?

In the seven years that I have been writing my thoughts in this little blog, I have never ever said anything about the matters of my heart, my relationship status, my dating life, or whatever you call it. I think it’s time to address the big elephant in the room. *Drumroll*

I am single. In my twenty three years of living, I have never been in a relationship. And I cannot count the number of times I get asked about the reason behind it and the vague answers that I gave them; also the many times I wanted to strangle people who gave assumptions as to why I am this way: 

“It’s because you’re too choosy! I think you’ve got very high standards!”

“Guys are so intimidated by you!”

“You’ve got this very strong personality as if you don’t need a partner in your life. You have this independent vibe. Try to be needy.”

“You’re beautiful, smart, rich and funny. You’re almost perfect. You don’t deserve a loser guy in your life.” 

Oh yeah I totally just made up the last one. 

Maybe they’re trying to help but I just want to say that it’s really offensive to shame my single status as if it’s my fault and as if it’s a mistake to be one.

Yes, it's sad when all of my friends aren't available to go with me to the movies, no one to hang-out with during weekends or Valentines day etcetera, etcetera. And I won't deny the nights that I've thought about the reason as to why I'm not dating and the days when I kept on saving my self-esteem from falling apart. 

The various reasons as to why I haven't been in a relationship range from "I was so young back then" to "I was just not feeling it" and all boils down to "Me and my choices." It's me. I could have flirted to any guy who shows interest in me and adios singledom -- but I didn't.

I don't want to be in a relationship for the sake of having one. I don't want to date just for the perks of having a constant company, instagifts, flowers and chocolates and butterflies. And even if days get lonely, I don't want to date just because I feel miserable.

I enjoy being alone as much as being with a company. I enjoy many activities such as eating out, cooking, reading, travelling, watching movies and running -- all by myself. I'm not saying that it's better than being with someone but my life doesn't need a man to be happy. Because I'm single, I can freely discover new places and meet new people. I can shape my life and plan my future without a man's influence on my decisions. I can write my own story.

I want to date when I'm happily contented with myself. When my life is already filled with stories and adventures that I did when I was still alone. When my mind is overflowing with ideas and passion. When my heart is full of happiness and contentment with how my life is going. When all that is left for me is to share it with someone. Someone who is willing to continue writing the story with me.

They say we meet the right person through luck, randomness and circumstance and we won't see him coming. But until that day comes, I'd like to keep myself busy and not date every guy who appears in front of me. I don't think it is a bad thing at all. 

  

A Different Kind of Happy

The other day I was talking to a friend about the sad side of living away from home. I told him my sentiments. Lately my siblings are always sending me messages saying they miss me a lot. My friends are being more awesome than ever because they are always with me during my meltdowns despite the distance. They listen to my random stories and we joke on each other and they make me feel as if I never left. I loved them more when I went away. Everybody knows that my friends and family are my rock. Now that I am away from them, I feel the separation anxiety and it’s difficult for me to be happy. 

But as my friend said, there are other kinds of happiness. A fulfilling career, the joy of learning, travelling to new places, meeting new people, gaining new friends – it can bring happiness to a person. It just happened that my happiness depended on people and now that I am far from them, my focus shifted and got blurred. But yes, he’s right. I can still be happy. 

I have to find different kinds of happiness on every corner of my new life. To fill the jar of happiness with memories, new experiences, fulfillments, peace of mind, life realizations, appreciations and lessons and to take it with me wherever I go. So when it’s time for me to come back home, my happiness jar will be overflowing that I have to share it with other people.

Two Springs

I have awesome friends back home who have so much life and career ahead of them. I have a family who is very willing to support me in every endeavor I make. And that’s it – they are all of my happiness. I’m not saying that they are not enough for me but sometimes I wonder if I depend much of my happiness on other people that I forget to be happy with myself. Now I’m away from all of them and I’m trying to be as happy as my photos seem to be but remove all the cherry blossoms, good views, the coats and scarves …I have nothing. I have no one. I’m alone in this. I’m just a struggling student in a public university trying to learn as much on this dignified researcher / post grad stint that will only last for two springs. After two years, more of my friends would have been married, started a family, got promoted and what not. My brother would be getting his first job and my sister will be in high school by then. All of the big moments will happen when I’m out of the picture and it scares the shit out of me.

Whats My Story?

Say hypothetically, I finally get the chance to travel alone. Since I am already dreaming, I'm gonna set it high and say that I am in Boston. I am sitting outside of a cozy restaurant with a fresh juice on hand and a city park sight to see. Then suddenly I am not alone. I am talking to a stranger -- a guy stranger, of course. Hmm, let's say his name is John.

 

****

 Heidy: So you're from Texas and an artist. How come you don't look like a hipster? You look so average. No offense.

 

John: I take it you watch a lot of Hollywood movies? Must be where you got the idea.

 

Heidy: Haha, yes I watch a lot, and no that's not where I got the idea. People who are more artistically inclined tend to be more.. expressive.. on many aspects of their lives. They are so spontaneous and passionate. It's like they look more for passion than look for a job. Is that too much a stereotype?

 

John: May I ask what do you do?

 

Heidy: I am a chemical engineer. I use the other side of my brain for a living.

 

John: So you're the opposite of "spontaneous and passionate"? That's what you're implying.

 

Heidy: I think so. I don't feel spontaneous at all and I have yet to live a life with passion. I am searching for it. That's why I went away in the first place.

 

John: Why Boston?

 

Heidy: It's my dream place to see. I want to visit all the universities. Harvard, MIT.. God knows how many times I have dreamed of studying in those schools. You know, I used to think that learning and studying is my passion

 

John: That's not a bad thing at all. What stopped you from learning?

 

Heidy: Because I started working. And I hate my job.

 

John: May I ask why?

 

Heidy: After college, I am craving for a lot of time to explore my life. Explore a lot of possibilities, new hobbies, meet new people. But I couldn't because I don't even enough time to sleep after work.

I feel so grumpy every day when I wake up and go to work. I don't extend my effort to get to know my colleagues in a deeper sense because everyday I am thinking of quitting my job. And it's not just my job. I want to quit my life. Reset. That's why I am here. I want to be in a place where nobody knows me so that I can leave all my baggage from home.

 

John: As much as we want to reset our lives, forget about our bad choices, we can't do that. It's our choices that defines what we are now. You are grumpy and unhappy because of a choice that you made. Probably it's the choice of accepting a job that you know you'll hate... or it's simply your choice to be unhappy everyday. It's cliche but happiness is really a decision.

 

Heidy: I always know that I'm gonna hate this job from the very beginning. Yet I took it. It's a medicine. It tastes fucking bad but I know I'm gonna get better when I suck it up.

 

John: It's a good thing that you know you're getting something good out of your job.What do you want your next job to be? What's your next move on life?

 

Heidy: I want to try design. Or a job that would allow me to travel and see places. It's cliche I know. But in my 22 years of existence, I realized that I don't have stories to tell. I haven't been anywhere and experienced anything. I live in the shadow of my father for god's sake. Now that I am working, I am terrified that I will suck at my job because I hate it, and it freaks me out that I may not be as successful as my father. I live to please him. Whenever he say go home, I go home. When told me to take this job, I took it. When he said don't quit, I did not...

 

I was all tears when I say the next words out of my mouth. It's an admission. A sad truth of my life.. "I don't have my own story." I will meet a lot of new people and they will ask about my interesting story. And I have none.

 

He sat up straight, look me and the eye and asked,  "What do you want?"

 

Heidy: They say when you're not busy being born, you're busy dying. I want to live. I want to finish a 10km run without my parents shouting at me that they won't allow me to commute at 4am for a stupid run. I want to go to the beach and try surfing. I want to go to a music festival. I want a job where I look forward to go to everyday. Somewhere I won't feel grumpy. I want to feel alive again because frankly, right now I'm not. I want to start writing my story.

 

John: I won't say anything after that, because you said it all. You know what you want. You figured it out yourself. What you need now is the courage to do all these things. Sometimes we get so scared of the consequences of our choices that we stop making choices anymore. That's wrong. Our life moves when we make choices. I am not asking you to be reckless and try everything but you are so young to be afraid. A ship is safe on the harbor but that's not where a ship is supposed to be. This is just one test, young lady. Go on, make your choices and pass your paper.

 

 ****

 

An Interlude

When I was younger, I always thought that I will meet a lot of people in the future that I could really connect with. Now I realized that God can only give me a few. People who are willing to share their best days with me and welcome me to their life are life's rare gems. I think I found them all.

Yet I keep on pushing them away.

GMT+8 -- 00:00:00

I have lived for 22 years. 

Two decades of living comfortably. 

Two hundred sixty four months that were well taken care of. 

One thousand fifty six weeks of mostly happiness and being carefree. 

Eight thousand days of living with people telling me what to do and doing the tough life choices. 

Now life takes away its upper hand from me and the counter to my good, comfortable life stops. 

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

"I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening, I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite."

Metamorphosis

I am someone who frequently looks back on past photos and old memories. It makes me feel better to go back when things are familiar and safe; like past is a comfort zone. But I gotta let it go. Whatever familiarity the past could bring, I finally realized that things will never ever be the same as what it used to be.

Ahh, change. I have a love- hate relationship with change. I hate that it could happen so fast when it doesn't have to and when you're desperately wishing for it, you almost do not feel its arrival.

If there's one thing that I have gotten out of the film One Day, it's the sad thought of how time could outrun all of us. Even our relationship with the people we dearly love could never survive time and the change that comes with it. And if we could ever, luckily, catch up and make up for the lost time, what's left for us is never enough.