Self Imprisoned

Honestly, I can’t imagine why someone, ANYONE, would choose to imprison herself in an invisible cell of her own design. All the more so if that someone is pretty, smart and healthy.

My friend Tanya* was 19 when she got pregnant by her conceited boyfriend. Considering no other choices but to marry the jerk, she did, and as we expected, she was verbally and emotionally abused. The unhappy marriage lasted for several years until the guy grew tired of her and left her for someone else.

Tanya nursed her broken heart for quite a while until she met someone else. But Someone Else was married. Probably desperate and convinced that the guy would leave his wife for her, Tanya went on with the relationship. And just like the first jerk, this second jerk treated her unfairly. He was jealous and possessive and he kept on ordering her around.

When I invited her to sleep over in our house, she felt embarrassed and told me that her boyfriend doesn’t allow her to go somewhere unless he’s with her. When I asked her if she’s still happy with their relationship, because as long as she is, then that’s fine by me. But it seems like she felt not only  unhappy but also trapped.

Tanya is only 40 years old at the moment. Her kids are almost grown up and she still has a great chance to find someone who will make her happy. But how could she find someone if she chose to imprison herself with the life she thought she deserves?

*not real name

A Sponge

Leo* and Sheila* had been close friends since college. Sheila fell hopelessly in love with Leo and Leo knew it. But to save the friendship, Sheila kept her feelings at bay and remained the warm and casual friend to Leo. In fairness to Leo, he acted just as casual as Sheila did.

Sheila felt relieved when they finally graduated from college and eventually parted ways. But after a couple of years, Leo found her and paid her a visit. Just like before, they talked a lot. But Leo did most of the talking and Sheila, as always, assured Leo’s undeclared fears, smoothed his ruffled feathers and made him feel good. Then, after that he disappeared and Sheila didn’t hear from him again.

After several years, Leo tracked her down. He told her how much he’d changed. He was no longer the uneasy fellow he once was. He was proud of his newly-found confidence. He was already ranting for minutes when he finally thought to ask Sheila how she was. Sheila said she was doing well with her life. She was settled and, in fact, there will be a celebration in their house the following week and she even invited Leo, sincerely wishing he would come. Leo promised but didn’t show up.

After several more years, Leo found Sheila again. But this time Leo already made a name for himself. He told Sheila about his transformation and how thankful he was to her for being the one to bring about that transformation. As she used to do, Sheila just listened, saying the right words and asking the right questions. But she was beginning to realize how Leo was treating her all this time.

Tracked down when needed and discarded after use.

As Sheila expected, she never heard of Leo again for another year. And when she did, it was when Leo was starting to feel down and unsure about himself. And she finally learned what she was to Leo. She was a SPONGE, not a FRIEND. And she felt very very sorry, not for herself, but for Leo. Because all this time, he never knew what he's got.

*not real name

We Didn’t Need the Internet in the 80's and We Survived

Yes, we didn’t but we managed to survive. Moreover, no one can say that we are less smart than those kids who were born during the computer era. 

So, why is the internet so crucial in our live today? Why is it that we feel so doomed when the internet is out? Why do we feel painfully frustrated when we can’t login to Facebook or we can’t post on Twitter?

Why do we let ourselves so..  dependent on the internet that we feel oppressed and seemingly depressed when we don’t have it in our lives?

I can understand those kids who grew up with it. They don’t know otherwise. But for us who were used to snail mail and chatting-under-the moonlight and libraries, why do we allow slow internet connection to get to us when we didn’t have it then?

Have we grown too lazy to read reference books because we got used to googling? Have we grown too impatient to wait till morning to say what we have to say to our friends that we have the urgent need to send a private message on Facebook? Have we become too needy that we need to post our complaints on Twitter to let other people know how we feel at the moment? Most importantly, have we no sense of privacy anymore that we post on social media everything that goes on in our lives?

Maybe I’m just too traditional to keep the old ways of life like reading printed pages instead of googling, taking time to visit friends instead of sending private messages and enjoying moments of privacy with family, relatives and friends without posting pictures on Facebook.

It’s not a sort of rebellion. I simply.. prefer it that way.

I’m not a hypocrite as to say I don't need social media or ultimately the internet. As a matter of fact, my husband works abroad and we get in touch regularly through Skype. I am also a blogger and I make small amounts of money online. So, for me, to say I don't need social media makes absolutely no sense.

So, why am I writing this article? 

I just want to point out that slow internet connection is not the end of the world and that we need to spend time away from social media to do something else, like... 'stop and smell the flowers..' 

I know I sound old-fashioned but believe me.. I enjoy life, I mean.. life away from the internet, and I want others to enjoy it too.   

Time is a gift. Let's spend it in meaningful ways, because when it passed by us, we can never have it back again...

When We Stop Caring

Yesterday, I met two of my close friends in college. They are both smart and I like them a lot. But there are something about both of them that, not actually, bothers me, but, makes me feel.. wary. They both have a tendency to freak out, as in really freak out. And when they do, all hell breaks loose.

They said they can’t tolerate stupid and incompetent people. I find it a little.. harsh(?). Well, I told them that stupid people are everywhere and there is nothing any of us can do about that. Then, they told me about the time that they had ranted at people and I found myself wincing at their stories. But as I listened to them, I came to the conclusion that they wouldn’t rant unless they were provoked. By my, how often and how easily they got provoked..

As for me, ranting is the last resort. And I can remember only two instances that I ranted. And though I got what I wanted, I wasn’t happy with what I did. I felt that I failed somehow and that I should have handled the situation more diplomatically. But it was done and there’s nothing I can do to undo it, so I have to live with the guilt and the shame of embarrassing and hurting other people by my ranting.

Then, I asked my friends.. ‘When you rant at people, do you ever consider how they would feel?’

And they said they don’t care..

Well, that’s it. That’s the difference between them and me. Because I care, in fact, I care a lot about how other people will feel. And I don’t want to stop caring.. EVER.

College Infatuation

Well, I know it sounds.. cheesy. Besides, I don’t even know if there really is such thing as college infatuation, high school infatuation, yes, but college, I’m not really sure.

Anyways, when I was a college freshman, I met this really really smart guy. At first, you would actually mistake him for a nerd. But then again, when you get to know him better, you will realize that he really is cool only three times smarter than the average guy and I liked him.

Too bad he was already involved with someone else that time. Besides, I didn’t even know if he would like me the same way I did him, right? Still, it was enough for me to be just an ordinary acquaintance to him. I felt flattered when he would engage me in a sort of philosophical discussion that was actually Greek to me. What I enjoyed most, however, was when we discuss literary stuff. I read as much as he did so I guess we were in equal footing. He was the one who introduced some classic novels to me and I actually read most of what he recommended.

Who would ever know that we would meet again after more than two decades. The moment I saw him, I felt the same.. awe that I had always felt for him. And when he spoke, I was enthralled and was taken back to the time when I was a college freshman with my head filled with ridiculous ideas and eyes all dreamy with infatuation.

The only difference is that, I am now older and wiser and tougher. And as we talked, I realized why I liked him before. He is so… ‘not ordinary’.

I was so happy to see him again and I really wish him all the best life can give. Wherever he is, may he continue to use his talents and skills to make a difference in the world.

Do We Teach Our Kids to Pray?

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on Feb. 12, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

When my kids were young, we used to pray together before we go to sleep. I told them to thank the Lord first for all the blessings that we receive every day. Then, ask Him to keep all of us safe and healthy, to watch over them while they study and play and finally to make them good and smart kids. I told them to ask everything in Jesus’ name.

Though we have stopped this ritual of praying together before going to sleep a few years back, I believe in my heart that they do pray on their own.

Last year, my eldest daughter’s close friend had a problem. It seems like, her mother, who has been separated from her father, who already has a new family, was seriously ill.

Trying to comfort her friend, my daughter told her to pray for her mother’s health and to ask for strength from God in order to overcome whatever it was they were facing at the moment. My daughter was stunned when her friend said she didn’t know how to pray. At first, she thought her friend was joking. But when the girl cried, my daughter realized that though her friend goes to mass every Sunday, she didn’t really learn to talk to God.

I felt sad for my daughter’s friend. I know that her parents have been separated. Her father has a new family and her mother is working abroad to support her and her brother. They may have the latest and most expensive gadgets available in the market, but I guess they feel lonely sometimes. I hope my daughter was able to teach her to communicate with God, because if that is so, she wouldn’t feel lonely anymore.

So Much for Childhood Friends

Paul* has been my friend since we were in grade four. Ours was a friendship that neither of us recognized at first. I can still remember how we used to bicker with each other and how I rolled my eyes at him and he would throw me a disgusting look that told me I was the most ridiculous person in the world.

Things changed when we went to high school. By that time, though we never talked about it, we knew that we’ve gone a long way back. He knew he could count on me and I knew I could depend on him. Aside from my own circle of girl friends, Paul was one constant thing in my routine. He usually dropped by at our house to talk about anything. Among the topics we usually discussed were the time he was selling ice candy around town, the time his mother died and the girl he was head-over-heels in love with. I can still remember buying a load of pandesal from him at dawn to help him finish early and helping him smuggle a picture of his lady love. Those were such ‘good ole days’.

We went to college and we matured and so did our friendship. Then he got married. I was happy for him. I met his wife and I was glad that he found such a nice and smart woman. They had been through difficult times and through all those times, I made my presence felt. The difficult times were long and they were taking a toll on Paul I started to worry about him. But I stood by him no matter what, replied to his text messages even in the dead of night because I knew he needed someone to talk to.

So, I was more shocked than surprised when I learned he’d gone abroad. I was happy for him, I really was. But going so far away without letting me know, without even dropping a hint was a blow to me. I felt hurt, but I assumed he had his reasons. He was abroad long when I finally received an email from him. I was so glad to hear from him I forgot how hurt I was for what he did. We started to chat regularly and I was genuinely happy for what he was starting to make for himself.

Then, I didn’t hear from him for a couple of months. So, when I learned that he had come home and was already back abroad, I wasn’t just hurt, I was angry. It was such an unfamiliar feeling I didn’t know how to handle it. This time, I didn’t need to justify him. It was for me plain and simple. He didn’t want to see me and that was that. For whatever reasons he had, I simply don’t care anymore.

Today, I saw his picture on Facebook and felt sad. And I realized how much I miss him, not that smiling man on Facebook but the young boy I grew up with. Because wherever he is now, he is still my friend and the times we shared together will never be changed, not even by him or me.

*not real name