As I mentioned in my last post, around this time four years ago I was in a different plane of existence. The pain I carried was so unbearable; it seemed like I couldn’t see the light at end of the tunnel.

These days I sit contentedly in my small living room, marveling at the dark and cool December morning outside my window. I reflect on the painful and arduous journey I had to be where I am now.

Four years ago I couldn’t imagine I would be where I am now. I’m getting better and I can say I’ve healed but I still got a lot to work on. Like for example, when I was in Singapore last month, I had a dream where J was trying to butter me up for whatever reason, trying to flirt with me, which made me so uncomfortable. I thought he was trying to win points because he needed something, to use me again. Then I discovered on his phone that he was doing the same thing to several women, including the one who bullied me in high school.

I pushed him back and screamed at him, threw invectives that I should have thrown at him when I had a chance four years ago. I spewed all my pent-up fury that I didn’t realize that I still had inside.

When I woke up, I was sweating and my heart was pounding. I only slept for 4 hrs that day.

That was a sign that I am not ready to cross paths with him and this world is so small. I encountered some people who knew him and some knew about the sexual harassment case lodged against him that’s why he was fired. Suffice to say people in his former firm aren’t happy that he still moving about in the same space.

That got me thinking again. The thought entered my head before that the reason why he jumped at the chance to transfer here in the Philippines and left Singapore in a huff was because he knew he would get fired because of that case. Not because he wanted to be with me. I was just an instrument who enabled his escape, an exit option.

How gullible I was. 🤦🏻‍♀️

So maybe, what I need to work on is I need to learn how to forgive myself for being gullible and for making that mistake of giving so much to a person who duped me into thinking he cared. I put him first before my children. That guilt probably hasn’t been washed away, I guess.

So while I am working on myself, I vowed I will never put anyone before my children ever again. That was made clear to me in August last year.

When I was praying for guidance, a voice told me that I should focus more on my children and not on things that have come to pass and things that are yet to happen or may not happen. When my eyes opened, I saw Twin A for what she is now—losing weight rapidly. She’s so gaunt and weak. Despite the multivitamins and guarding her calorie intake, she has not improved since our last visit to the pediatrician.

And now that I’ve learned how to love myself and love the life I have now (except for my boss), I know now that I shouldn’t chase butterflies and rainbows by having a partner. I can have peace and contentment this way. I just have to forgive myself for falling for a person who just used me and didn’t care a fig about me. I attribute that to my being unwell. I wasn’t in a good place that time. I haven’t healed from the trauma of my marriage when I jumped into a relationship that I thought would heal me.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. In so many levels. That’s how children of divorces end up getting screwed growing up. So much pain and wounds get inflicted when the mother jumps into a relationship quickly and force the children to have a relationship with a stranger and expect to form a family. It’s a selfish move on the mom’s part, in my opinion and I fell into that rut.

But of course, I can’t fault moms in my position then because we want to feel loved and validated. But that really creates more problems because you need to grow and love yourself first at the same time you need to love your children while they grow. You grow with your children. I had to walk through hell before learning that.

So yes, I’ve come so far from where I was 4 years ago. I need to forgive myself to have complete healing. Until then, I’m not yet ready to encounter my demon in person.

I had been busy cooking and cleaning as I hosted lunch for my bffs. Exchanged gifts and quick stories. Then my house was invaded by kids—my daughters and their friends who are hanging out in our house.

It’s better that I have these kids in my house rather than worry where my kids are during their free time. That’s why I figured I needed a bigger screen because they are here at least twice a week.

Let me figure this out until next week. I’m still deciding if I should book a hotel for the New Year’s countdown in Makati or in the new Solaire Casino Resort in QC. Neyo will be performing and do the countdown there.

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Two days ago, four years back, I was so gutted. Every year since then I also did my count up (not down). This year I completely forgotten all about it.

I woke up from a terrible dream. I was working. Chasing a story. I was preparing to go to an event when my former boss in my former life as a local reporter appeared and wanted to give me pointers. I was so annoyed with him because I felt like he was holding me back when I was already running out of time. In my dream I felt so bad for having scooped by rival media outlets.

When I opened my eyes, I realized it was just a dream and I’m already on holiday.

This means I’m so stressed about work because I still dream about work.

I told Kr yesterday that I had been feeling bad for quite a while again even after figuring out a way how to ignore my boss by filtering whatever she is saying. Maybe I’m already exhausted that’s why I could no longer filter her, Kr said.

I told her our boss is wearing me down; she has been treating me like I know nothing. She even joined my call with a Singapore PR firm that was pitching stories from their clients like I don’t know how to handle such. She has been scolding me almost every week for every little thing. She even gaslighted me into thinking that it was terrible of me for taking a long break when many editors are going to be off. I said I just was taking 7-8 days off but it just so happens that there are many public holidays in the Philippines during the Christmas season that it looked like I would be off for more than two weeks.

I felt so ghastly—thinking I was being selfish—that I didn’t start my holiday yesterday. I was still replying to chats and emails, still coordinating with journos, getting comments from parties for a story I was doing with another reporter. I shaved off a day from my official holiday because I felt awful. Or rather my boss made me feel awful.

Kr told me to ignore my manager. She asked how many times have I held the fort almost by myself when all of Asia shuts down during East Asia festivals, especially during Lunar New Year? “No, you deserve this break. Go, ignore her,” Kr told me.

Why is she doing this to me?!

Two Koreans in this lifetime have been horrible to me and made me feel dreadful about myself, made me feel like I’m less of a human being. I’m starting to hate Koreans now.

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I edited two stories and rewrote one because it was problematic and all those kept me working until 9 pm today. I did a 9 to 9 🤦🏻‍♀️ so my brain is so dead right now.

When I woke up this morning at 8 am (I go back to sleep at 5:30 or 6 am after cooking breakfast for my kids), I debated with myself whether I would work my butt off today or just call it a day after the call with my team at noon.

I was writing the headline for the story I was supposed to submit today when that problematic story burst into my mailbox. My own story that I was drafting became totally forgotten.

Should I still draft it tomorrow when I’m technically already on leave?

It was just my friend C who is supposed to buy a barong for formal events that we journalists have to attend to chase our sources. I realized I needed a barong as well so I will have my fitting next week.

The owner of the shop said I can wear this with pants or skirt. I’ve seen many politicians and other government officials donning the modern barong for women instead of the traditional baro’t saya, which is so cumbersome to wear. I didn’t really have to have the embroidery handmade (a lot more expensive) since I’m not getting married in the barong—I just need to be presentable.

This was my maternal grandma’s business so my mom knows a thing or two about barongs and embroidery. I also know a little about this since we used to wash, dry and iron barongs and embroidered cloths at home before selling them for my grandma.

I discussed with my friend, C, that he should go for the piña-jusi (pronounced as pinya-husi) instead of the more expensive and formal piña (pineapple fabric woven in a traditional Filipino way) because the latter is more delicate to wear and maintain. Over time the ecru piña turns darker (in my observation). Jusi is silk but more durable and opaque than piña. It is also half the price of a piña barong. Piña is for barongs that you wear when you get married (or a similar formal occasion). Piña-jusi is jusi that is made to look like piña (i.e. to look more expensive) by hand painting the cloth with streaks to resemble piña cloth. Silk cocoon—a more expensive silk—is in between jusi and piña, since the fabric is finer and more expensive than jusi but not as fine and delicate as piña.

I said since we would be chasing sources even in such formal events like the annual cocktails at the central bank, C would be in danger of damaging a piña barong in a media scrum. He agreed and decided to go with piña-jusi with a more ethnic pattern for the embroidery—a hand-embroidered one at that—instead of the more traditional embroidery of vines and flowers.

Prior to going to Lumban, C, checked out Kultura in SM and his eyes watered at the PHP 20,000-PHP 24,000 price tag for a piña barong. The Lumban shop we were at only charges PHP 12,000 for machine-embroidered piña barong. A hand-embroidered one would be a little more expensive but still cheaper than in Kultura. C got the hand-embroidered piña jusi for only PHP 6,000, including the inner long-sleeved shirt called camisa de chino. It was such a good deal.

My barong, on the other hand, would cost me PHP 5,000 because the off-the-rack one won’t fit me. I have to clarify next week that I don’t want a hand-embroidered one. Let’s see if I could haggle the price down.

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We ate lunch in neighboring town of Pagsanjan and I introduced C to balaw-balaw: minced shrimps in coconut milk, ginger, and chilis. 

Since we were already in Lumban, I drove to Caliraya to show C the lake and the campsites and some resorts. He loved it and was entertaining a fanciful thought of buying a property there for a rest house.

And before driving him to the bus terminal in Sta Cruz to go back to Makati, I brought C to an old church in the town of Kalayaan.

We were running out of time and C needs to take the bus at 4 pm because the weekend traffic going northwest to Metro Manila is horrible.

Before anything else, my children and I had been grazing on breads and French butter and camembert cheese all day. I brought these home from dinner two nights ago  at Rockwell.

Anyway, while we were having dinner, K, the Manila boss of a competing news agency, and M, another Manila boss of another competing news agency, and I were stuffing ourselves with good food, K said C, who is my friend and M’s reporter, went on leave and didn’t know where to go to spend his personal time off. K mentioned that C wanted to buy embroidered barong in Lumban.

Later that night C inquired about how to get to Lumban. Told him to drop by my town and I’ll drive him there to check out the barongs. This morning I gave him instructions and told him to book this onsen hotel near my place and I will bring him to Lumban tomorrow.

When he messaged that he was at the resort, I told him that I will pick him up after work.

When I did, we drove through the mountain bypass road and reached the university campus where there is a food fair. That’s where we had dinner.

I then brought him to see my house. Being a gay man, he is very much interested in home decor and home renovations. He checked my kitchen cabinets and door jambs and all the finishes. He bought his Makati condo seven years ago and told me his unit is up for repainting and bathroom refresh.

He said he loved the colors I chose for my tiny home and he said my house is likely 50 sqm, bigger than I initially thought it was. I told him that several people have already commented that my home, being on the second level, is like a treehouse because we’re surrounded by trees.

I drove him back so he can enjoy the onsen and the massage that would follow.

Let’s see what will happen to our trip to Lumban later today.