Kids

One hour away from my home in Quezon City is the city of Parañaque. Yesterday, my family and I travelled to the far away city to visit my aunt (mom’s cousin) who invited us for lunch. I looked forward to the lunch because I knew that I will get to know some stories of the family. I did get to know some more of the stories of the family, but that did not complete my visit. Not even the the delicious cup of decaffeinated cappuccino gave me the joy that would last a day. What gave me the happiness that I’ve been longing for four days was playing with my five year old cousin. Yes, children give me so much joy, too much that I cannot contain it. Yesterday, I realized that I really love kids, no matter what age or condition.

I love kids. If only I am capable, old enough and financially ready for kids, I’d love to have kids now. That’s how I love the youngsters. I love writing, but my passion for making sure that the kids around me are happy is just…wow. Whenever I see an infant, toddler, or young child, my heart leaps. I just love the presence of children, especially my younger cousins.

I play with all my younger cousins, but dealing with Yanna was very different. Yanna, my dear five year old cousin, is not like most five year olds. She has Down Syndrome. I thought dealing with her would be so hard, but I was wrong. Of course, language became a barrier for us, due to the speech delay that she has. But we were able to have a lot of fun yesterday. I was amazed at how brilliant she was. She knows how and where to fix her toys, and she knows how to play and share with other kids. Some five year olds can’t do that! I just couldn’t understand what she was saying, but we went along playing and coloring well. We had fun playing catch and shooting baskets. She was also so happy to find out that I love Frozen! She couldn’t sing and act out the scenes in the movie when I started singing. She was just too happy!

Like Yanna, I was happy that I saw how well my cousin was doing, even if she had Down Syndrome. I saw how brilliant she was! My aunt’s stories about her left me in awe. She is a brilliant kid. I couldn’t get over how good she is.

I’m always in awe with kids. I just love how they are. That’s why I want to dedicate my life to the welfare of children. I want to be a pre-school teacher, but once I have children, I’d give up my job for them. Other feminists might boo on that, but as a feminist, I believe that women should do what they want. Taking care of my future kids is what I want. Besides, I can work while taking care of my kids! I’d like to publish a book about good parenting, so maybe I can work on that. And if I can manage, I’d like to establish a small pre-school or a tutorial center. Big dreams, aren’t they? Well, I’m here to dream.

I’d love to mold the future of our country to be good and well-mannered children, just how I was molded to be a fine young woman. I wish to achieve my dream, and one day, help the children of the future to reach theirs.

Moving On

By accident, I clicked on a link that would lead me to his Facebook timeline. I was scared to feel hurt; I was scared to cry. But as I browsed through his photos, I felt, well, quite normal. It was as if nothing happened.

This is not the first time that this happened, yet I still feel scared every time I do this. Believe it or not, I intentionally click on the link every time I did it in the past. Why? I wanted to know if I have really moved on. And all I can say is this: yes, I have moved on.

Erasing something from your past is impossible, even if you have amnesia or any other memory-related condition. Something can never be undone, even if you keep on covering it up. Your dark and painful past is hard to forget, but I didn’t realize that you can choose to remember the past but forget the pain until today.

He took my innocence, my confidence, my pride, my being. And yet, I look at him, feeling no pain. Maybe I feel indifferent, but that’s alright. At least now I don’t want him to rot in hell. I even wish him well.

See how time heals? I sought no help, only listening ears. Recovering from molestation and attempted rape is burdensome, but I got through it. Though its effects are here to stay, I can see that I have moved on.

Now, if you think that it’s the end of the world, look around you. You’ll see people who have problems that are a million times bigger than yours. But look at them, still fighting. You can always surpass it and move on. Just believe in yourself.

Alumni Homecoming

It feels good to be at home.

Pondering on what to do aside from reading the assigned readings for next week, I asked myself: when can I go back home? I’ve yearned to come back to one of the places where I learned so much about life and work. And finally, I had the chance to go back home.

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Four months after graduation, I finally had time to come back to where I came from: my high school. Everything felt so different, yet so the same when I walked down the halls of my home for the past four years of my rocky road life. It was weird seeing all those girls in pink shirts and not knowing who they were. It was so nice seeing the familiar faces of the girls from the lower batches. I even got to meet the girl who wrote the prophecy for me (who turns out to be their batch valedictorian in grade school). Seeing all those familiar faces, including some teachers and staff, made me have a feeling of reassurance – that I can always come back home and be comfortable. The struggles brought about by the first few weeks of college made me feel really uncomfortable and uneasy. Coming back home really made my day, my week.

On my way to my destination, I saw Ate Vivian, the guard who was assigned at the entrance that I always use. She was thrilled to see me, as I was thrilled to see her. She told me about the few changes that occurred for the new school year. Wow, so much can change in so little time. I saw many more teachers, and they asked me how college was. I said, “stressful. It’s not the same stress as high school stress.” They reassured me that I can do it, and so I left them, hurrying.

I visited my club, First Aid. I bought them pizza, too. Wow, I bought pizza for 11 strangers. *moving on* A sophomore member came to me and hugged me, and ranted about how she’s stressed about the school punishing her. I felt her woes, but I was flattered because she shared her frustrations with me. As the session started, our dear moderator gave a few reminders, then I had the flood to myself. I was never comfortable in speaking about my experiences in front of crowds, especially in full English (well, Koreans were in the crowd so I had to speak in English). After sharing my stressful first aide experience, we ate. A few photos were taken, then I went off to look for teachers.

I was able to speak to our assistant principal for academic affairs. She was warm, as always. I was able to share my struggles, and she was there to say that I can do it. She reminded me of my past struggles, reminding me that my past struggles were worse than what I’m going through now. I left her, hoping to see her again. As I waited for my mom, I saw one of the teachers who made me cry (a lot) in senior year. We were, of course, casual. I greeted him on my way to club, so I guess we’re fine. He asked me about college and where I attend college, and he left. Well, it was nice speaking to him, knowing that I trusted him well before the mishaps happened. My mom came, and then I left

On my way home, I realized how I easily forgot all the bad things that happened to me in school. All that I remembered were the fun stuff. I guess that’s what you feel when you’re at home in a certain place. It’s like all the bad things are dust particles in the air: they’re there, but you can’t see them.

High school will always be special to me, my glory days. I miss high school now. How I wish I could go back in time.

A Call To Belong

“As humans, it’s in our nature to have this invariable need to belong, attributed to the fact that life’s pretty fucking lonely.” -Nicole Rosacay, 2014

How does it feel to feel alone in a room full of people? Well, it sucks. I asked a friend (who prefers to be anonymous to my readers) this question: how did you feel about it [feeling lonely/alone in a room full of people], especially if the people in the room know each other already? Do you feel alienated? She said, “it’s like trying to catch a train but no matter how fast you run, you can’t seem to catch up. At some point you get tired of running so you just stop.” Well, that’s me over there.

 

I’ve been in the university for over a week now, and I’ve only made a few friends (and one of them is a schoolmate of mine back in high school). On the other hand, all the other people in my bloc are already going out for lunch together and making noise together in the classroom while waiting for the professor. I do make efforts to befriend them, but it’s as if I get discouraged whenever there is dead air after each reaction I have to their replies. It’s as if they’re not interested in what I have to say.

I feel terrible whenever I miss the train; I feel terrible when I don’t get to get to know the people I meet. Of course, I can’t get to know all of them, but one of the reasons why I went to college is to meet new people. Well, apparently, I met the people who aren’t very much interested in me, despite the fact that they actually have a valid reason to talk to me (which is to ask about my immobilized knee). Well, I know that college isn’t a bed of roses, but I wasn’t expecting that just talking to people would be that thorny.

Looking back, we did have activities before the school year started, and I attended them all. I did meet people, but they’re from different departments. I did meet some people online, but there were never follow-up conversations.

There’s one thing I noticed whenever I meet someone (well, most of the time): I initiate. Maybe I’m simply tired of making the first move, that’s why I’m feeling this way. I’m trying to make the most out of my freshie life, and this isn’t just making sense to me.

Or maybe I’m just having premature thoughts? I’ve only been in school for a week or so.

Or maybe, I’m just hungry for friendship, hungry for someone to talk to. Everybody’s been busy lately, and I feel lonely.

For once in my life, I want to belong. So please, let me belong.

 

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Special thanks to Nicole Rosacay and to my friend who wants to be anonymous for their insights!

I know that the whole thing is blurry, but uh! I’m frustrated, I guess.