A Searcher

             A searcher, as how we define it, is someone who carefully looks and examines to find something. From the word itself, searcher is someone who searches for something. I do not actually need to cite definitions of “searcher” in this entry but, what I want to express has something to do with searching; someone who searches – searcher.

           It all started since birth. Yes, you read it right, since birth. A girl was born in bewilderment. She was born in a world where she never thought she would be in. The journey was difficult for this “princess” but, she never thought of giving up. There were times, a lot of times, when questions seemed stuck in her head and did not want to leave her. This girl in bewilderment; this princess, is me.

           It was 1995, I was 6 years old then, when the real scene started to play. A night of happiness, laughing with my grandmother and cousin, was destructed by a shout out: “Hazel, baby”. It was a shout from a girl going out of the tricycle, a girl in red dress. I know who she is. My Ate Helen was the girl, a daughter of my grandmother. We bonded. We shopped. We laughed and all. Everything was fine. What stopped the fun was when I noticed that people were laughing at me. It seemed like for them, I am a child without anxieties; that I so not care for what they were saying. Rumors just did not stop. Questions just kept entering into my mind. My head ached thinking and looking for answers.“Didn’t she know that she is her mother”? Why isn’t she telling the child that she’s the mother”?

           It was hard for me to express out the questions to people around me. It was hard for a child to ask something from outer space when everybody was expecting her to just ask for candies. However, I did not mind. I asked my grandmother about the thing. There it goes, she is my mother. It did not surprise me that much for there was this feeling in me that I cannot explain. I knew she was my mother. I just need confirmation for legal matters – I think.

          Graduation in kindergarten, 1996, my mother came with me. She put on the medal and the ribbons for a princess marching on the stage. It was my happiest moment then. Going to church and to the mall weekly, what more can a child ask for? At a young age, I have searched for one of the most important things in one’s life.

           I thought it was over. We are close enough to continue living as a mother and child. After just about two years, my mother got married to someone I did not even know. I broke down. I was 8years old then. It broke my world into pieces. I searched for someone to lean on as my mother was busy mingling with her husband. I found my grandmother – waiting for me to come back to her, longing for my hugs and kisses. I took time to accept the situation. I was successful in doing so. Consequently, my mother got pregnant and gave birth to a cute baby boy. I was so glad having a sibling. Again, my world started to tremble. Earthquakes did not leave me. It kept on shaking my life. My heart was broken. My teary eyes kept looking for attention from a mother. Tears fell down my eyes seeing a happy family – my mother, my stepfather and their son.

           Action scene of my life started on this. My heart walked away from my mother’s. It went farther and faster since we had just known each other for two years or three. My heart was lost but still, found its way going back to my mother.  I have decided to take the path to her direction. I came with them, my mother and my brother, wherever they go. Until one time, we went to my brother’s Godmother. She, the Godmother, asked my mother who I was. “This is my niece. She is living with me because her mother is abroad”. The whole me, at that early age, melted. Every part of me was lost in nowhere. It caused me so much pain. I ran to my grandmother.  I told her what happened.

           I searched for a way of acceptance. I looked for reasons that led her on saying that. She said that because she cares. She said that because she loves me. She said that because she thought that I am her failure. She saw her mistakes on me. I just accepted that fact. I have learned to live with the pain. I got used to it until I am numb enough not to feel it.

          My next search was the search for my father. I argued with my mother every time I want information about my father. I had thrown harsh and painful words to her just for him. My aunts and uncles were my foes too on that matter. I was the only one playing over the defense of the whole family. I told, again, my grandmother the reason why I am looking for my father. the reasons were: (1) I want a father; (2) I envy my classmates; (3) I need a parent’s attention which my mother did not give me; (4) I want a wealthier life and; (5) I am incomplete.

          My family understood my feelings and respected my right to know my father. I was the one who stopped the search. I have realized that it was not ideal to look for my father when I have not searched about who my mother was, what she really feels. My heart started to fix itself going back to where it really belongs – my mother. No matter what the situation is, she is my mother. I do not want my child to do the same as I did.

          The next search is searching for myself. I am now in a world where every kind of people are in. I am in a world where I can only survive based on what I am doing. It was easy for me to smile and laugh out loud but, it does not mean that I am happy.  My tears just want to flow out my eyes but they cannot. It was because of the perception of the people to me – that I am a strong person who does not cry. I am imprisoned to that approach. It is difficult. However, it is helpful in a way. It makes me stronger that I won’t cry easily on the struggles.

          Many people would say that if you are destined to find someone or something, you do not have to search for it because it will automatically come your way. What if it came your way and stopped at your back? Would you not search and look back to see it?

           Searching is the life I am living. I may think that it’s over. For all of us, searching for questions is part of our lives. Searching for answers to the question we have searched is what we are living for.

          I have searched myself searching for her self.

I'm Getting Married

             “Umuwi ka dito ha. At para makuha mo na rin ang pang-enrol mo. Basta siguraduhin mo lang na gagraduate ka na at huwag munang mag-aasawa hangga’t hindi pa nakakapagtapos si Totoy ha.”

            That was a text message from my mom. I told her that I have not graduated yet because I failed a course. Yes, just one subject and it feels like it’s taking me forever to graduate.

             Anyhow, the plan was to get married by at least 27. And as I read that sms, it got me thinking and counting. “OMG. At least seven years and that’ll make me 29.” Because I am turning 22 this year. I did not feel bad naman because in the first place, the original plan was to invest in my brother’s education before settling down. And oh lala. Why am I thinking of settling down when I have no boyfriend yet? I don’t know. I just like making plans, setting goals and finding paths. Oh yes, I’m back on the track. :))

              When I already have my own resources, of course, I will save first for his education. I think I don’t have to wait until he graduates din naman if I can sustain his education. Maybe I could get married by the time I liked to. But then, of course, if there is someone to marry. Or I could marry myself like Sue Sylvester. LOL.

              Basta I want to get married before I reach 30. Why so? I have this dream of having four children and I think, it’ll be difficult for me if I get married beyond thirty. Or I can have babies before getting married. Oh no. No. Remember THIS? So there.

              For now, I will just focus on my studies. And yes, I promised my Mom to finally, at the last chance given to me, finish my Bachelor’s degree.

College: Hell and Heaven

           When I was young, I thought I could do anything. I used to think that everything is possible. Hopelessness crossed my mind not once. I used to feel so strong. I felt invincible. The only thing I cared about was to get high grades (well, not really) because I thought that’s the key to success. Then came along the college years. A new world for me. New people, environment, but an old me.

             Adjustments and adjustments and more adjustments. Everyday, I have to adjust with different professors and instructors, classmates, people I bump along the streets and in the campus, and of course, I have to adjust with my own self in this whole new world.

              Frustrations grew as days went by. It seemed that everything I do, even with my “best”, was still not enough for me to do well. I remember, when I was younger, I was very sure of what I’d like to become - to be an engineer with a 2-storey house plus a garden and expensive cars (materialistically speaking). I used to think that it is very easy to attain this dream. I used to assure myself that yes, I can do it.

               Primary. Secondary. College. They say that these are not the “real world”. What are they? Can we call them as artificial worlds? My professor in Biochemistry once told us that college life is not an artificial world. It is a real world. A phase of the world. I was enlightened. I always think (as a student) about what the “real world” looks like and how come they don’t refer school as such when we, the students, seem to have more problems than those who are in the dimension that most people refer as “real”.

               The first part went well. The first half. It was a “so-so” difficulty for me. A moderate stage I must say. Acing exams, failing, anything, but one thing was so sure, I will pass my subjects. The second half was not as smooth as the first. It was when I failed a course. Food Microbiology. A subject where all the microorganisms that can spoil any food product must be memorized. Oh, and that’s by heart, Dr. Dalmacio said. I did. I memorized. The physiological and chemical characteristics. Empirical or not. But it seems that no matter how hard I try, my efforts were just not enough. I never drop a subject. I used to fight until the end. I agonizingly wait for the whole semester to end only to know that I’m going to take the same subject for the next semester. I acted normally but when I was alone, I cried, so much. I felt so dumb. I used to think that I’m an intelligent person but when I failed, everything went upside down. I took the subject again and finally, passed it.

             I was about to graduate on time last 2010. Yes, I was on time. WAS. On my last semester, I failed (in Food Engineering II). I never felt it was going to happen not until my adviser told me that I won’t be able to graduate. I cried. I walked alone along the dark campus. I shouted at the Freedom park. I drunk 3 liters of Red Horse, alone. Every night was the same - dark, lonely and sorrowful. How will I tell my Aunts? For sure, they’d kill me. But there’s nothing to do. I told them. They said I have to work for my allowance so I had to do English tutorials to sustain my living. But that was just a test. They did not forget about me. They still gave me money.

          So there, I was about to graduate last October. And again, WAS. Was about. PUTANGINA. I failed the same subject, again. Am I that bobo? I told my adviser that I know all the theories, formula, diagram and everything about the course and I fucking don’t know why I can’t answer his riddles during the exams. He told me that I am intelligent. One of the brightest advisees he handled but lost sight. Lost sight of what? Literally? Yes. Figuratively? How? He said I abused myself - spending my time to everything that I can do until my brain and body function no more during the exam. Oh well. So there. This time, I did not tell my family that I haven’t graduated yet. The good thing was, they did not asked. However, that made me more guilty, in fact, until now. They believe in me so much that they never asked. The night of darkness came back. I never lie to my family and it’s too heavy to carry such dark secret in your heart. 

            I did not enroll. How? I didn’t have money. I felt helpless and guilty. I had the opportunity to study in one of the most prestigious universities in Asia but what the hell happened to me? I am in the University of the Philippines, isang iskolar para sa bayan but I can not do well scholastically for my own sake no matter how hard I try.

           February came and I decided to tell my mom. To my surprise, she was very calm and just told me to pursue it. So there, I will enroll next semester.

          College became an eye-opening part of my life. I am open to many possibilities but this phase, this chapter, made me aware of the society and my being. It’s a hell in land but also a heaven in disguise. It made me realize that having dreams and visions for your future is not an assurance of getting a bright tomorrow. I guess, it is just easy to dream and make plans when you are young because you have less idea, if not no idea at all, about the efforts, sufferings and hardships it would take to realize those dreams.

IpagpasaDiyos na lang

         I just had a conversation with a friend. She was asking me kung paano raw ba masasabing napatawad mo na ang isang tao. I told her na masasabi mong napatawad ang isang tao kapag wala ka ng galit. Kapag kaya mo na siyang pakitunguhan without bitterness. Yung tanggap mo na uli siya bilang part ng buhay mo. And then she asked“Kelangan talaga part pa din siya, Ate?” and it got me thinking, “oo nga noh?” so I answered“Hindi rin naman. Kasi hindi mo naman makakalimutan yung ginawa niya e. Pero yung tanggap mo na’ng nangyari at hindi mo na siya kinukutya o kinagagalitan.” 

          She asked me again if it is possible that you have forgiven someone but still, it hurts. YES. It is. For me, it is because people can forgive but they seldom forget. What hurts is not the presence of that someone who hurt you but the vibrant memory of what s/he had done to you. Erase the memory? Cannot be. I don’t believe in “FORGETTING”. Yes. I believe that it is on how you learn to live with that pain until it hurts no more. Acceptance it is. It is when you finally accepted that the damage had been done and the only cure is to let it be there. It happened. It is learning to live with the fact that once, you’re hurt and there’s nothing to do but to move. But of course, it takes a while and most of the times, if not always, it takes a long time.

          “Sana i-heal na ni God ito.” She added. I responded with “Heal yourself and God will help you as well.” Binigyan tayo ng kakayahan ng Diyos para gamitin ito. Naniniwala akong kaya tayo binigyan ng Diyos ng mga katangiang meron tayo ay para magamit yun at matuto mula dito. Hindi maaaring ipagpasaDiyos mo na lamang ang lahat. Para saan pa at mayroon tayong iba’t ibang kakayanan, sitwasyon sa buhay at kung anuman kung wala naman din tayong gagawin? IpagpasaDiyos. I think God won’t be happy. Let us do our part and keep the faith. Consequently, with our actions and His guidance, we’ll be fine.

          And when the wound is healing, don’t scratch it. Let it heal.

Transformation

           Hindi ako maarte sa mukha. Ni hindi mo nga ako mapapagpulbo noon. Hindi rin ako gumagamit dati ng facial wash. Water lang talaga. Pero pagdating ko ng college, nagbago ang lahat. Hindi naman gaano. Pero nagpapowder na ako. Bilang magmimistulang ginisa talaga ng mukha mo sa sobrang kainitan sa Los Baños. Oo, college na ako nang magsimulang gumamit ng powder. Freshman din ako nang una akong nagnail polish. Nakakatuwa pala yun noh? Kada linggo, iba iba ang kulay ng kuko. Pero lagi akong may baon na acetone kasi kapag nakita ng lab instructor ko sa Chemistry at Biology na may kulay ang kuko ko, patay na. Hindi ako makakapagexperiment.

         Old freshman ako nang unang gumamit ng eyeliner. Kailangan ko pang magpractice magdamag dahil naiiyak ako sa tuwing gagamit ako nun. Sinanay ko talaga. Tanda ko, sabi ko pa sa housemates ko noon “Hindi ako titigil hangga’t lumuluha ako.” Hahaha. Ayun, so nag-eyeliner na rin ako.

        Pero hindi pa rin ako nagmemake-up. Ang hassle kasi e. Nakakatamad at parang ganun pa rin naman ang itsura ko. Haha. Tapos biglang nagpapadala na ang mga Tita ko ng mga make-up at kung anu-anong burabong pangmukha. Wala. Deadma pa  rin. Naeexpire lang dito sa bahay. Tapos, yun nga, bunga ng kaartehan, sinubukan ko. Sayang naman kasi. At naalala ko nung bata ako, nilalagyan ko ang mukha ko ng eyeshadows. Tapos malalaman kong watercolors pala ang gamit ko. HAHA. Late ko nang nalaman.

         Sabi ng Tita ko, bakit daw ang arte ko. Ay leche pala e. E bakit nagpapadala ng mga kaartehan tapos ayaw pala akong mag-inarte? Tapos tatawa na lang sila. Gusto lang pala nila akong mag-ayos bilang tomboyin nga ako noon pa.

        So yun, naglalagay na ako ng kaartehan sa mukha kapag maaga akong nagigising at kapag may oras pa ako. Pero kalimitan, wala rin. Mas gusto kong pumasok nang nakapambahay lang. Nakatsinelas, shorts, basta, ganun lang. Parang mamamalengke lang. Simple lang din naman ang mga kasama ko sa elbi e:

         Third year o fourth year na ata ako tuluyang naging babae. Nagsusuot na ako ng skirt. Pambabae na ang mga kulay. Gumagamit na ako ng shoulder bags at hindi puro buddy bag rin. Pero ang pinakapaborito kong attire noon ay shirt, skirt, tsinelas tapos nakabackpack:

           Fourth year na ako nang sumali sa isang sorority. Unang dahilan ko ng pagsali ay para magkaroon ng motivation para mag-ayos ng sarili. Oo. Kilala kasi ang sorority na yun sa pagiging maaayos ng members. E parang naisip ko na kailangan talagang mag-ayos na ako at mapilitan na. Ayun. Bilang nakakahiya ring tumabi sa naggagandahan kong sisters e kailangan ko mag-ayos. May tamang kulay ng bag o sapatos o palamuti. So pumapasok na ako nang maayos at hindi mukhang pupunta sa palengke. Pero hindi pa rin ako mamake-up masyado. Hindi ako masyadong marunong e at saka, nakakatamad. Hahaha. 

          At saka kapag minsan, lumalabas rin ako ng nakapambahay lang. Nagtatago na lang ako kapag may soro sis. HAHA. Sabi ko kasi noon, sasali ako pero hinding hindi ko hahayaang mawala ang individuality ko na isa rin naman sa pinapahalagahan namin sa samahan. E yun nga, boyish ako e. Lalaking nakabistida minsan. :))

          Pero nagbago lang naman ang pananamit ko marahil (minsan), hindi ang individuality ko. One of the boys pa rin ako. :))

Para kang hindi babae!

          Mahirap magmove-on mula sa unexpressed feeling or unsaid. Ito naman ay para sa akin, ewan ko sa iba. Nahihirapan ako e. Pakiramdam ko hindi ako makausad kapag alam ko na hindi man lang nalaman ng taong mahal ko ang nararamdaman ko. Masakit na nga na hindi naging kami tapos hindi niya pa nalaman? Saklap naman. Minsan okay rin yun. Pero sa akin hindi. Hindi ako makamove-on talaga. 

         Isang beses pa lang atang nangyari sa akin na hindi ko nasabi ang nararamdaman ko. Nasabi ko pa rin naman pero masasabi kong nakamove-on na ako. Pero sinasabi ko, natagalan ako bago makausad. Anong bago? Lagi naman akong ganito e. E bakit kamo sinabi ko pa kung okay na naman ako? Hmm. Ayoko lang kasing mamuhay sa bitterness o pagsisisi. Na hindi ko man lang nasabi o wala naman siyang alam. Yung mga bagay na ikabibigat pa namang loob ko sa hinaharap. So yun, sinabi ko na rin.

        Ako rin yung tipo ng tao na ayaw ipadaan sa iba ang pagsasabi ng nararamdaman. Yung ipapasabing mahal ko siya. Ayoko nun. Alam kong mahirap lalo na’t babae ako pero mahirap kasi kapag pasa-pasa pa e. Nababawasan ang sinseridad o rarami pa ang makikisawsaw hanggang sa maapektuhan na ang desisyon niyo na dapat ay kayo lang dalawa sana ang may obligasyon.

         Nasanay na akong ganoon. Sinasabi ko. Pero kalimitan, natatagal at umaabot pa sa sitwasyong nasasaktan na ako. Hindi naman kasi madali yun. Ang hirap humugot ng lakas. Pero naiisip ko na lang,  nahihirapan at nasasaktan rin naman ako e di sabihin ko na kaya? Ano kung hindi niya ako gusto? Siyempre masakit pero kung hindi ko sinabi e di ba masasaktan lang din ako? Pareho lang e.

          “Para kang hindi babae!” Yan ang norm. Ganan ang reaksyon ng iba. E bakit? Ano ba talaga ang kahulugan ng pagiging isang babae? Hindi ako dalagang Filipina? E ano ako? May nasasaad ba sa konstitusyon ng Pilipinas na bawal magpahayag ng pag-ibig o nararamdaman ang isang babae sa isang lalaki? Wala naman e. Well, kilos lalaki naman ako matagal na pero kung ikababawas ng pagkababae ko ang paniniwala kong yun e baka bago ako mamatay ay lalaki na ako.

         Masarap sa pakiramdam ang masabi mo sa isang tao ang nararamdaman mo. Mahirap. Minsan masakit. Ang hirap ring kumuha ng tiyempo kasi hindi mo alam kung seseryosohin ka o hindi. Pero kapag nagawa mo, grabe, mahalin ka man niya pabalik o hindi, masaya na rin. Kasi ikaw mismo ang nagsabi sa kanya at hindi niya yun nalaman sa kuro-kuro lamang. Yung tapang, takot, hiya, andun na lahat pero ipinahayag mo pa rin.

         E kung nabawasan man ang pagkababae ko e ayos lang. Siguro naman hindi nabawasan ang pagkatao ko.

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          You do not know what I’m feeling, not exactly. Please don’t tell me to stop. I have to cry this out. I’m starting to think that I don’t deserve every good thing that is given to me. I am so depressed but I just can’t let it show in front of the people so I just cry alone and send sad messages which I think would reflect how I feel.

          Consequently, people will accuse me emo. I don’t care, but please don’t think that I do those stupid things for the sake of being emo. I just want to let this out to feel free the next days. This is my way, not your way? Go on! Don’t look back on me and trash talk.

         I am just not okay. Not at all. Not even a little..

         I express my sadness through positive tone, but try to look at me in the eyes and you’ll see the tears before saying that this is just another drama.

        I need some air.