Marriage and the importance of fending for yourself

"Do you ever have those moments when you think, 'Oh, so this is what marriage is like...'?"

My dad had asked while we were in the car, on our way to I-forget-where. I knew that he meant it in terms of discovering things about my husband M that I never knew before, where you substitute "marriage" to "he" so that the statement becomes "Oh, so this is what he's like, really." But I guess the thing about being together for almost nine years before you get hitched is that it's pretty hard to hide your true colors from each other for almost a decade.

No, the thing you discover about marriage is not so much about your partner, but about yourself.

And I have discovered a very important thing: I'm a 32-year-old with no life skills.

I say this after almost three weeks of living in our own place. I mean, I knew this about myself, of course, but just knowing I don't know how to cook becomes an entirely different deal when you're alone in the condo, hungry, and staring at a can of corned beef and not knowing what to do with it.

And it's not just the cooking. I don't know how to iron clothes. I don't know how to do the groceries. I don't know how to prepare a marinade, much less marinate the meat. I don't know how to clean the bathroom. It has become appalling to me how I've reached this age without knowing all these things.

I know it makes me look like some sort of sheltered, pampered princess. And I know that I probably should have made an effort to learn while I was still at home, before I got married. But there was something in me that just refused the idea of learning at home. I didn't want it to be some afternoon of "Oh, I'm not so busy today, I think I'll go learn how to iron a shirt" then I would go back to my "regular" life. And the truth is, I guess I just took it for granted that I had clean shirts and good food.

So right now, what I'm discovering about marriage is that it's a very humbling experience. Now I have to accept that I'm a beginner at everything. I learned to use our washing machine during our first week, so I've been able to do the laundry for us. My first attempt at ironing was a failure (meaning, the shirts were just slightly less wrinkled than when they got out of the dryer), but I figured out where I went wrong and tried again today. I did a much better job today.

I also learned how to cook hotdogs. M laughed when I told him I just followed the instructions on the packet, and his exact words were, "I never even knew there were instructions on the pack! You just put them there and cook them!" My first attempt was okay, but I think I undercooked them the second time I tried because they tasted slightly like paper (still edible, but weird enough for me to think that it didn't taste quite right). M told me, "Don't be afraid of overcooking or burning it. Be afraid of undercooking it." So then I learned to not be afraid of the sizzling, frying sounds and instead trust them as signs that I'm doing it right.

Marriage is a humbling experience because knowing that there's just the two of us now, we have to be able to take care of each other. And the reality is, M has been taking care of me for the past three weeks, largely by making sure I don't starve. But even if I wasn't around, he would survive. That wouldn't be true if the tables were turned. It's humbling to realize how much I need him, and how much I need to work so that we are on equal footing in this relationship, capable of both giving and receiving care.

It's also very humbling to realize that if you don't do it --whether it's cleaning the toilet, taking out the trash, or other equally icky jobs-- no one else will do it for you. So I can't just pick what I want to learn; I have to learn everything. More than once, I have thought to myself that this is probably what I would advise the young-and-single: either live by yourself or help out around the house more. Either way, you really do need to learn to be self-sufficient. I may be a little late in the game, but at least I'm learning now. Google has been especially helpful in this journey.

And so I celebrate the littlest achievements, the ones that people would probably roll their eyes at. Like buying a nice set of sheets at a bargain. Or cooking a cheese omelette successfully. Or figuring out just the right settings in our washing machine and the right ratio of liquid detergent to fabric softener. Because I know that each little achievement is a step to the bigger things. And someday soon, I'll get to the point where I can cook without reading a recipe and I'll be able to do more than just wash the dishes and vacuum the floor.

Someday soon, I'll be a 32-year-old that has the life skills needed not just to survive, but to thrive.

The Piano

As I brushed my teeth this morning, I heard a piano play in the distance. It was my neighbor playing. It wasn't anything fancy; I knew it was a simple exercise just to start the day.

I smiled because I remembered myself so many years ago, when I couldn't let a day go by without touching those black and white keys. I would sit on the bench, touch the keys, and forget the world as I began to play.

My music teacher offered to give me lessons after school. I would let myself into the music room after hours, flex my fingers, then begin playing the latest challenging piece she threw at me. My fingers flew across the keys faster than I thought I could manage. My shoulders bore the effort of pounding on the keys as loudly as I could, then relaxed as I settled into the quiet notes that would end the piece. I would close my eyes to savor that last note, and when I opened my eyes, my teacher would be sitting at the farthest end of the room. "Again," she would say, and I would lose myself in the melody all over again.

It was years of putting in an hour every evening to practice exercises and long pieces, of struggling to learn new melodies and perfecting them, of losing and finding myself in the music.

Then life happened.

I entered college and found myself in a new world, new relationships, new interests. I busied myself with things like choir practice and org meetings, and the piano began to gather dust. Before I knew it, years had passed since I last touched the piano.

One day, I found myself staring at our piano. Untouched, unloved. Tentatively, I sat on the bench and found it uncomfortable. I touched the keys and thought the magic would simply come back to me. It didn't. I found myself clumsily trying to get through an exercise I used to know by heart. I tried to read the notes and play along, but my hands refused to catch up to the notes my brain knew how to play.

And I felt a deep shame come over me, as I knew that the same neighbors who would stop during their evening stroll to hear me play were the same neighbors who would now bear witness to my failure. The glory days were over, and I was too proud to start all over again.

I shut the piano with a bang, stood up, and hurried back to my room. I tried to forget how, a few minutes before the final bell would ring, I would shake my hands under my table to loosen them up for the coming lesson. I tried to forget that rush that came with playing a piece perfectly from beginning to end. Most of all, I tried to forget the heady feeling of knowing that I had the power to create something beautiful that I could contribute to the world, if only for a few minutes.

I had forgotten that gifts needed to be nurtured. Now I needed to forget that I had that gift at all, if only to avoid being eaten up by regret for all that could have been.

Eventually, my mom decided to sell the piano. I was moving to my own place and there was no room for it there. In a few years, my parents would be downsizing into a condo unit and there would be no place for it there either. An old couple bought it for their grandchild who was just starting lessons. I wasn't home when they took it. I didn't say goodbye.

As the final notes of my neighbor's piano played, I realized that in all the years that had passed, nothing ever quite came close to the passion I felt as I played then. I looked at my hands, the hands that no longer play, set them on the bathroom counter as they touched the black and white keys from memory, and closed my eyes to savor that last, perfect note with a smile.

What sticks

We hadn't seen each other in 15 years, but we all hugged like the old friends we've always been. M introduced us to her colleague saying, "I wouldn't have graduated high school if not for these two."

Later, after reminiscing about how C and I had rallied M to copy from us and study our notes just so she could pass, M told us how she enrolled in culinary school and graduated with third honors. "Naisip ko talaga, siguro proud kayo sa akin ngayon," she told us wistfully.

More than being proud of my friend, what she said got me thinking about just how much of an impact we can make in someone's life. Not having the right size of paper for a surprise quiz or a long test never became her excuse because I, a walking office supplies store, gave her paper and lent her ballpens too. C photocopied all her notes and turned them into handouts for exams. Together, we came up with codes, gestures, and special ways of sitting in our chairs that would make it easier for M to copy off us. I wonder if our teachers ever knew, and if they did, if they let it slide because they knew we just wanted our friend to graduate with us. And graduate, she did.

We always like to PM each other random things, but when B sent me this screencap of a post by my ex, it really got me thinking. Forget that he's my ex-- what he said about "teaching me to be neat" never happened. I mean, I never actively and consciously taught him anything. This whole business of using a ruler when I highlight passages was just the way I studied then. I never encouraged him to follow suit, or drop subtle hints by giving him a ruler and a highlighter. I just did my own thing. And now, 10 years after we had broken up and now that I'm happily married, I find that my little quirk had stayed with him.

It made me realize that we never really know how we affect people with the things we actively do for them, and the things we do without realizing that they're watching and taking notes. And sometimes, you never even get the opportunity to find out what impact you've made in life. So all you can do is try to be positive, be kind, be good, and hope that somehow you touched someone's life for the better.

The operative word is TRY. The truth is, deep down inside, all the trying can be exhausting. It is so tiring to be good. It's so draining to always be understanding. It's so difficult to keep that positive spirit burning, especially when things don't seem to be working out as they should. It is an immense pressure to be everything for everyone all the time that sometimes you just want to run away from it all. Or break down in a coffee shop. Or throw things. Whichever works at the moment.

How do you get out of that dark place and keep trying? You think of the moments that have stuck with you, the things that others have done for you and have stayed in your heart without them ever knowing. The impromptu slow dance. That hug right when you needed it. The meme that was sent to you at a time you didn't think you could laugh. The people who matter. The dreams you build together. The memories you've yet to share.

And so you take a deep breath, dry your eyes, and walk out of the coffee shop or whatever retreat you've made for yourself, armed with a new resolve to keep trying.

Be kind. Be good. You may fail some days, but just get up and try again tomorrow. You never know whose life you touch by just trying every day to be kind, be good.

Married life, in bullets

So far, marriage has been about...

- towel stealing

- tickle torture

- 24/7 exposure to farts, burps, no makeup look, messy hair, and ratty pambahay

- front-row seats to tantrums and meltdowns

- waking up with a start in the wee hours of the morning to freezing-cold feet pressing against your leg

- being at work very early in the morning or until late at night, depending on the other's work schedule

- not seeing other friends as often as before since you now have someone else's schedule to consider

Then again,

Marriage has also been about...

- laughing at stupid YouTube videos together

- 24/7 access to hugs, kisses, back rubs,  and reassurances that everything will be okay

- being told that you're beautiful/handsome even if you're in ratty pambahay, your hair is a mess, and you've yet to shower

- having someone that waits for you to come home

- falling asleep to the sound of their breathing

- not minding the other person's snoring because it somehow lulls you to sleep, and at least you're sure they're still breathing

- waking up in the middle of the night to put a blanket over the other person, then get pulled into a hug while they're still asleep

- knowing that you've married your best friend

- building a home together

- dreaming together

The good outweighs the "bad", always. ❤️

What people don't tell you about being married

"So, kumusta ang buhay may-asawa?"

After being married for all of 36 days, I still don't know how to answer this. For now, I resort to "Eto, parang nagbabahay-bahayan lang!" But in truth, it's because I don't know how to explain it.

That everything is still the same as it had been before we got married. He still instinctively holds out his hand while we're walking, with complete faith and trust that I will be there to take it. He still says, right after parking the car, "Kasya ka ba dyan?" as if to imply that I am anything but sexy, because he knows that I will look at him indignantly with my signature pout-- and I do. He still can't make up his mind if he wants to go to the gym, sleep, have dinner out, or stay home, because he wants to do all of the above all at the same time-- and I end up giving him the pros and cons of each until he finally makes up his mind.

It is still the same.

And yet everything is different too. While we're still living in my parents' house and we have only one car, I find myself waking up at 3:30AM so that I can be ready to leave the house with him at 4:45AM, in time for his 6AM shift. And on the days when I don't have to head to the office, I'm still woken up to the sound of him getting ready, and I'm half-awake as he kisses me goodbye before leaving. I never had this before we were married, but now my mornings seem incomplete without it.

It's different because my room used to be my own space. I was comfortable with my own kalat. But now it is his space too, and I find myself clearing the closet, cleaning a corner, cleaning and clearing to make space for him. I find myself thinking of ways to make it a more restful space for both of us, because now I have front-row seats to how tired he really is after work.

It's different because now, we don't have to send links to each other through Viber. We can just watch them together and laugh until our stomachs ache together. We don't have to schedule conversations because we can just look at each other and say whatever is on our minds, right then and there. While I do miss the Viber emoticons, there's nothing like the real thing too.

Everything is different, and yet it's all the same.

Today at Mass, I looked at him and realized: this is our life. This has been our life for the past nine years (36 days of which we've spend married), and we've got a long way to go. Many more years of teasing each other, random conversations, shared meals, sitting in traffic together, and all of the other mundane activities that make up everyday life. This is it. This is our life.

And I wouldn't have it any other way. :)

Dream, don't plan.

I used to have many plans for my life. As early as sixth grade, I had planned to take up Journalism in UP then take up Law to follow in my dad's footsteps. In high school, the plan changed to taking up Broadcast Communications. In college, the plan changed to getting into Summit Media and working in magazines.

The thing with all those plans is that they didn't happen as I thought they would. I decided not to pursue law (it actually never really crossed my mind all throughout college), and when I did get into Summit, I ended up in PR, which I never really imagined myself getting into.

So I spent a couple of years floating around, wondering what had become of my plans. I was in PR and seemed to be doing okay, but when I tried to imagine what I wanted my life to be in the next few years, I couldn't see myself hob-nobbing with the country's top editors and establishing myself as a well-connected PR practitioner. I always thought of taking further studies, but could never figure out what I wanted to study further. I thought of teaching, but could never see myself authoritatively and convincingly leading a roomful of students that saw the teacher as the enemy. The trouble with my plans is I had no idea what to do when they didn't work out.

It was only recently that I realized-- I had been so busy trying to plan my life that I had forgotten to dream. Or maybe it wasn't so much that I'd forgotten, but more of I had been afraid to dream because what if I couldn't make it come true?

But in the smallest ways that I had dared to dream --I dreamt of touching people's lives and making a difference through my words, I dreamed a silly dream of writing or editing Tagalog romance novels-- the Universe found ways to turn them into a reality. There were no plans here, no end goal, no measure of success. Just an openness to opportunity, lots of courage to take a leap of faith, and prayers that everything would work out okay. And they did, more than I could ever dream they would.

It's more difficult than people think, to learn how to dream. Especially when you're someone like me who's so used to coming up with a step-by-step process and working towards specific outcomes. They can even become easily interchangeable, plans and dreams. But I'm realizing that it's the dream that anchors the plans. When the plans don't go as they should, the dream remains the same. In my life, I had lots of plans, but no real dreams. So when the plans changed, I felt lost and unsure of what to do, who to be, next. Dreams are the heart of any life plan, and I'm only allowing myself to start dreaming now.

Luckily, I'm marrying a dreamer who is able to clearly envision even the car that we'll be driving in 10 years, down to the color. It inspires me to make little dreams of my own, for us, and for me.

Four months to go!

As of today, we have four months to go before The Day! Considering that one of those months is December and it goes by very quickly because of the holidays, we only really have three months left to finish everything.

I may not be the kind of girl that's been dreaming of her wedding since kindergarten, but I started this process with some wishes in mind. One of those was that we would be able to have a wedding in which people close to us played a special role. But once we started planning, I changed my mind a little and thought that it might be awkward to have friends working on that special day.

One year into planning everything, and I see God's hand in making that wish come true in some ways. One of my good friends designed the invitation as her wedding gift to us, and everytime I show it to people, they all exclaim, "It's so you!" I'm not sure I would have had the same reaction if I had the invitation designed by someone who did not know me very well.

My wedding gown will be done by my tita, who owns a dress shop. A good friend from high school will be doing my makeup, a friend that I met from my PR days will be hosting our wedding, and one of M's friends from work will be putting his events background to good use by acting as our on-the-day coordinator. Then, when I was looking for a photobooth, I was led to one that turned out to be owned by an orgmate from college. The flowers for the entourage will be done by a very good friend of my tita. It's amazing how small the world has proven to be, and how God surrounded us with the right people at the right time.

I've heard of brides that go into this thinking "This is MY day." But I've always begged to differ. It's not a day where I get everything I want and everyone has to do my bidding. I've always seen this wedding as a day where we can celebrate with family and friends, and everybody is happy. It's precisely why we chose a summery theme with happy colors.

Most importantly, this is OUR day-- every step of the way, M has been involved, sharing his opinions, giving his go signal. Even when he tells me I have free reign, I still run things by him. I'd like to think that this will also be the dynamic for our marriage.

To be honest, we are more excited about what happens after the wedding. So really, we are not just counting down to our wedding day, but to the beginning of the rest of our lives. The wedding is just one day. We're excited for forever. :)

On doing what you love and loving what you do

This morning, while I was in the shower (home of all great ideas and deep thoughts), I found myself thinking of the work I need to do later, and how blessed I am to be making a living out of writing, reading, and editing. I remember that my childhood ambition was to be a librarian, because I thought it meant I'd have all the time in the world to read all the books I want. Even when I was already working and would seek solace in a good book, I'd find myself thinking, "Wouldn't it be great if I could just read books all day and still get paid?" But I had always been afraid of turning that wishful thinking into reality because I thought that getting paid to read or write would diminish my love for it. But the Universe has its way of working things out, and here I am, doing what I love.

And yet, many say that this is actually bad career advice. It leads to discontented spirits who flit from one job to the other, thinking to themselves, "This isn't what I love to do, so this isn't for me." It's almost like being in a relationship (and how many times have I likened a career to a relationship), where you keep finding flaws in the person you're with and concluding that he's not The One. And so you move on to the next, and to the next, and to the next, convinced that The One person or job is just out there, waiting for you, and you'll live happily ever after. It sounds romantic and idealistic, but in reality, all you get is a resume that shows you can't hold down a job and you can't figure out what you want, or the realization that you've been labelled a commitment-phobe. Hardly the characteristic that will attract an employer looking for someone with a sense of loyalty to a company, or someone who's willing to grow with a company for a substantial amount of time before moving on to the next. Even with relationships, it's difficult to grow and move forward when you're too worried about whether or not this person will leave you at the first sign of struggle.

I also read an article before that pointed out that only a select few can financially afford to follow this career advice. Really, how many times have I taken a look around my place of work, zeroed in on certain individuals, and thought to myself, "This person obviously does not need to work for a living, so this really must be his/her passion." But now that I'm in this situation, I'm realizing that this is not true at all. I'm doing what I love, but I'm hardly swimming in money. On the contrary, I find that I have to work twice, three times as hard just to make what I used to when I had a regular job.

It seems that the flip side is the secret. It's not so much about doing what you love. You're very lucky if, like me, you have the opportunity to make a living out of your passions. But not everyone in life is as lucky. Think of security guards, salesladies, janitors-- all thankless jobs, it's difficult to imagine them as a child's ambition. And yet these jobs exist, and we see people who go about these jobs with a smile on their faces and a genuine care for those that they serve. The secret is that no matter what job you're in, be thankful that you have a job at all. And then, fall in love with it. There's always something good about whatever job you have, whether it's the things that you learn, the day-to-day experiences you have, the people you meet, or the kind of person you become because of it.

What a happy coincidence that for today's homily, the priest was talking about the need to be excited again about life and its blessings. His anecdotes were about how people lose their excitement over things --relationships, jobs, studies-- as time goes by, and how important it is to realize that life is not always happy. Life comes with its ups and downs, triumphs and struggles. So when you're down and struggling, it takes a lot of faith to just hang in there and find it in yourself to be excited again.

Truth be told, now that I'm nearing one year in this freelance life, it hasn't always a bed of roses. Sure, there's a rush that comes with seeing your name in a byline, but behind that byline is the stress of finding interview subjects, the difficulty of transcribing interviews, the challenge of powering through writer's block because the deadline is the next day. It's meant days of working in a digital advertising agency during the day, then going home to get more writing and editing work done when everyone else is probably resting already. It's meant weekends of working instead of lounging around. So no, it hasn't been all fun and games. But at the end of the day, I am thankful for the struggles because I know that there isn't anything else I'd rather do. And I know that each struggle will pass-- once I hit the "Send" button to submit my pieces, it's over until the next project comes along. It's faith that keeps me focused on all the good parts of this job. It's faith that keeps me going.

My final thought in the shower was that life is like a game of cards. You're not always dealt a winning hand. But if you already know that you've got a losing hand, you still have two choices on how to approach the game: with a defeatist attitude, sulking all throughout; or with a cheerful spirit, enjoying the game and deciding that you're lucky you got to play at all.

On never being too old for first-times

Now that I've been working in digital advertising for 10 months, I've gotten a bit used to having to say goodbye to some clients and saying hello to new ones. The job has required me to research on many different industries, which is great for someone like me who just loves learning new things.

My latest account has to do with hair treatment. This is a big deal for me because *confession* I have virgin hair. Even if my suki hairstylist always asks me if I want to get my hair colored, I always just opt for a haircut. The most I've gotten is a hot oil, and that was just recently.

That is, until this account came along and our clients offered free treatments for the team. I was apprehensive, of course, but M said, "Go. There's a first time for everything."

With his encouragement and the realization that if I was going to do this, it might as well be with a very reputable brand, plus it's for free, I took a deep breath and told myself, "Okay. Let's do this."

Final selfie with my virgin hair!

Aside from wanting to say farewell to my virgin hair, I realized that it's good to take a Before photo so that you can easily compare it to your new hair! At this point, I'm excited but very scared.

I was shown different hair samples --all of which, honestly, looked the same to me-- and then I told them to consider these two things: 1) it's my first time, so please be gentle; and 2) I'm getting married in six months (!), so I want a color that's not too drastic so that it doesn't grow out too ugly. The stylists decided to ease me into it by choosing a shade of brown that they promised would give a subtle yet noticeable change. In particular, my stylist Donna told me that dark brown was actually preferable because if you have fine, thin hair like me, choosing a light shade would kind-of reflect on your scalp, making the thinness more obvious.

The color is in!

Before they brushed all the color into my hair, they had to dab a bit on the back of my ear to check if I'd have an allergic reaction to it. My ear started to itch a little, but I really think it was psychosomatic! So Donna proceeded with caution and would ask me every now and then, "Does anything itch? Are you still scared?" Thankfully, the answer to both was "No!"

It turns out that color for the roots are applied last because it absorbs color more quickly. But after around 10 minutes, Donna checked my hair then said, "Oh wow, you're ready! Let's go rinse it!" I didn't understand the big deal until she told me while she was washing my hair, "Your hair is one in a million. Usually it takes 35 minutes, but your hair absorbs color so fast, it was ready in 10." It's a good thing that she was on the watch, otherwise I would've had ultra-light roots!

New look for a new life!

So she rinsed it then blow-dried it, and I decided to take a selfie! It doesn't look like a big change, which I like because I feel like I'm really being eased into deciding if I want to go a bit lighter next time.

A big thank you to my stylist Donna!

I couldn't resist taking a photo with my stylist Donna, who really put me at ease by telling me that we have the same hair type, and she shared tips on how I could add more volume to my hair. Since it was based on her personal experience, I really felt like she knew her stuff! I'd love to go back and get my hair done by her again. It really pays to have it done by the experts and trust in their judgment and expertise!

So here's the Before and After shot, taken in the exact same spot under the same lighting conditions. The change isn't too obvious indoors, but I've been told that you can really see the brown shade in natural light.

With something just as simple as changing my hair color, I realized that you're really never too old to have a first-time for anything! :)

On wedding preps and the importance of counting backwards

One of the very first things I did after getting engaged was to open up an Excel spreadsheet and make a timeline.

When July rolled in, I revisited my timeline and saw the note "6 months before - fix Church requirements". So M and I decided to dedicate a day to doing just that.

The Driver and The Navigator, ready for an adventure!

Here are some of the things I learned in the process:

1. It helps to call ahead.

In today's day and age, the landline is something anyone hardly ever uses anymore. But it was super helpful in this process.

Since I was baptized in the hospital's chapel, I had to call the hospital to find out where I could claim my baptismal certificate. Then, I also had to call St. Francis of Assisi and Sta. Maria dela Strada to find out if the confirmation certificates of those confirmed in Poveda and Ateneo (respectively) could be claimed there.

By calling these Churches ahead, not only was I able to verify that our records were indeed there, but I was also to get information that would help them track down these records quickly-- when I called Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish in Sta. Mesa for my baptismal certificate, the guy I spoke to gave me the exact book number, page number, and even line number where my record could be found.

After all the verification, we were ready to set our itinerary for the day. Which leads me to the second lesson.

2. Download Waze app and believe in its power to get you to places.

From old-school to modern! With my phone plugged into a car charger and armed with unlidata, we set out for Sta. Mesa, completely reliant on the directions given by Waze.

Even if both M and I drive and are knowledgeable of how to get around, Waze helped us navigate through side streets that got us from Sta. Mesa to Cubao in no time! But we arrived in Cubao only to find out that we would have to abort our mission, all because of the third lesson.

3. Learn how to count backwards properly.

As it turns out, I had only counted by month. So yes, July is six months away from January 2015. But what I failed to realize is that we're getting married on January 31, which means that six months before our wedding date is still... July 31.

It was explained to us in Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Cubao that our certificates would only be valid for six months. So if they released M's baptismal certificate to us today, it would only be valid until January 8.

4.  Take note of the parish's office hours and days off.

While in Cubao, we kept trying to call our church to ask if they were super-strict about the validity period. But no one was picking up, so we decided to abort the mission and head to Eastwood to ask in person. Only to discover that the reason why no one was picking up was because the office was closed.

Some parish offices are closed on Mondays, others on Tuesdays. Some are open as early as 7:30am, others open at 8am. Some lunch breaks are only until 1pm, others are until 2pm. When I called Sta. Maria dela Strada for M's confirmation certificate, I was told that we should drop by after lunch because the priest who would be signing the certificates would be in by then. Knowing the office hours of each church you need to visit helps you make a more efficient and realistic itinerary.

5. Always look on the bright side.

Aborting the mission left me feeling very frustrated and disappointed in myself because, really, how simple is it to count backwards?!

We visited Eastwood and I tried to get a hold of myself by praying, releasing my tears of frustration, and basically trying to focus on this image:

We'll be standing here in 207 days!

It was here, in front of the altar we would eventually stand before by next year, that I realized how truly blessed I am to be marrying M. He wouldn't tolerate my little pity-party. He said, "That's the way it is. We'll do it in August. It's nothing life-threatening; no one has died. Now if our church tells us that they've messed up our dates, that's a problem. This is nothing."

So now, I'm just thankful that we had found out about the validity issue when we had gotten just my baptismal certificate, rather than when we had gotten all four certificates already. Imagine my meltdown if we find out that ALL certificates are invalid and we have to do everything all over again! So at least it's just one potential do-over. And now we know how to get to the churches, so it'll be easier to find them when we do Church-hopping 2.0 in August!

At the end of the day, we're still getting married. Like M always likes to say, don't worry because things will always fall into place. :)

On rediscovering the creative side of writing

"I miss reading your 'books'."

That single comment on my last blog entry brought back a whole lot of memories. It was then that I remembered that I used to write poetry. And those 'books' were love stories hand-written in Cattleya fillers using a mechanical pencil, which meant that the side of my right hand was almost always tainted with lead. In college, I wrote "moment stories", which were super-short pieces that highlighted a single moment in time.

And then work happened. Even if my work in PR required a whole lot of writing, and even if I'm making a living now as a freelance writer-slash-content creator in digital advertising, I realized that these types of writing have always required a brief. It has always been writing housed within a specific framework, required a specific structure, conveyed a specific message. For more than a decade, I have been writing according to the dictates of others-- clients, editors, brand identities. Somewhere along the way, in my quest to be a writer, I had forgotten an entirely different side of the coin.

The writer as a creator.

Now, I've started writing a love story, just like old times. I'd forgotten how exciting it can be to flesh out characters and think of where to bring their story. I've always been drawn to the story of best friends falling in love and to all the exhilaration that comes with a first love, that I've decided to try writing one again. Only this time, armed with all the wisdom I know about love. No third parties, no crazy plot twists, no unnecessary characters. Just a girl, a boy, and a whole mess of feelings that come into play when you try to decide if falling in love is worth risking a friendship, as you try to discover if it's indeed possible to be both best friends and lovers.

Even if I spend most of my day creating content and working within briefs and frameworks, I find myself turning on my computer every night to nurture these characters who I think about while I'm on the treadmill or in the shower. It's been a long time since I've felt this way, and I'm just excited to see where this will go.

On rings and proposals

Paris Hilton's 24-carat diamond engagement ring was worth $4.7 million back in 2005.

"Now that's just showing off."

I don't exactly remember when he had said these five words. Was it while we were watching a movie, and the girl was presented with a huge engagement ring? Or was it when we saw pictures of a newly-engaged girl showing off her ring?

All I remember is being struck by these five words, because it speaks so much of the two of us.


In this day and age, women seem to be conditioned to believe that bigger is better. Especially with engagement rings, the question is always, "How big is the rock?" The "bigger is better" mentality seems to apply to proposals too, as men are now pressured to one-up whatever the Internet deems as the "best proposal ever", and it gets crazier every time. Heck, it's not just marriage proposals now that are big and grand-- today's teenage boys are pressured to make a production out of asking someone to be their girlfriend, and even today's teenage girls are pressured to make a "prom-posal" for the boy she'd like to go to the prom with!


But if there was one thing I prayed for when it came to being proposed to, it was "Please, please, please don't let it be in public." I cringed at the thought of a huge production, of having other people's eyes on me, waiting to see my reaction-- would I cry? Would I look shocked? Would my hand shake as he put the ring on it? While other women dream of these grand proposals, I dreaded the thought of being on the receiving end of one.

Which is why I loved the way I was proposed to, because it proved that he knew me so well. And it showed so much of who he is too-- a simple and private man. He popped the question on the beach, with his arms around me, with no one else knowing what was happening. It was a private, intimate moment that no one else witnessed, that only the two of us have the power to relive in our minds. I loved that he didn't get down on one knee because we've never been one for formalities. I loved that he had his arms around me because it told me that he will always keep me safe in his love. I loved the simplicity of it all because that's just who we are-- a simple couple that finds happiness in just being with each other, whether it's watching DVDs or buying groceries.

My engagement ring is quite small, but I love it because I've never been one to show off. I've never liked drawing any sort of attention to myself, I hate being in the spotlight, I feel awkward and inwardly pleased when someone notices me, whether it's for something I'm wearing or something I've done. He doesn't show off either, and he doesn't really care what other people think. So he gave me a ring that he knew I would like, because he knew that I would feel awkward with a big flashy ring, especially since I would never flash it around in the first place. My opinion was the only one that mattered to him, and my ring showed that.

A basketball player proposed to his TV host-girlfriend today in the airport, right before she hopped on a plane to Europe to study. According to reports, there was a banner, roses, a singer, and accomplices to capture the moment. The proposal ended up all over cyberspace with complete strangers offering their well-wishes, reliving the moment as if it was their own. A few hours later, photos of a former officemate being proposed to in the office pop up on my News Feed. I am happy for all of them, but I'm happier that my proposal story was nothing like theirs.

Mine only has the sea, the sun, the sand beneath our feet, his arms around me, and a huge wave that punctuated the moment with a lot of laughter. And in that moment, I knew that our days would be filled with much laughter and love, from now until forever. I wouldn't have it any other way.


(Image source: http://bit.ly/1peA25A)

On Closure and Starting Over Again

I just finished watching the latest blockbuster film "Starting Over Again", and I can't quite get over the lessons it has left me with.

While most people were probably rooting for love getting a second chance (hence the title), I sat through the movie knowing it should end the right way-- with proper closure. The "twist" in the end, therefore, did not surprise me, and I left the theater knowing that it was as it should be. And I left thinking all about closure, and haven't quite stopped since.

I was lucky enough to get closure out of my first failed relationship. Years after the anger had passed, I found myself asking him the questions I had wanted to ask through online chat, and he was honest enough to answer. When he tried to rekindle a friendship, I saw him through different eyes and knew that not even a friendship would work out between us. And that was that. The end.

I was not so lucky with my second failed relationship. A bad breakup where no real words, no explanations, no hows or whys were exchanged. I was unfortunate enough to end up with an actor, and until now I'm no longer sure where the act ended and reality began. So many questions arose, and for a long time I felt that I needed to know why things ended the way they did in order to move on.

It took me a very long time to realize that not everyone is lucky enough to get closure in life. Not all questions are answered. Some never even get the opportunity to ask those questions, much less receive an answer. There are many people who deal with untimely death and never get to say the things they want to say-- now that's lack of closure. What I've learned is you need to accept that it will never happen. Well and good if you end up with an opportunity to get that closure, but in life, it's more the exception than the rule. So by accepting that you've been dealt a cliffhanger with no ending, that in itself is an ending. That in itself is closure.

Now, whenever stories of my failed relationships come up, I sometimes get asked if I need closure. And when I think of it now, I realize that the answers to my questions don't matter anymore. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that we're over, that we've grown into different people, that I'm happy with my life and who I'm spending the rest of it with. So if it doesn't change anything, who needs it? Why bother? There's no point to it.

I've heard that some people are disappointed with the ending, maybe because the title "Starting Over Again" led them to believe that love would get a second chance. But starting over again doesn't necessarily have to be with the same person-- it's not always about rekindling the right love that happened at the wrong time. Starting over again can also mean accepting the past, picking yourself up, and moving on to a better and brighter future with somebody who takes you for everything that you are and everything that you could be. Now that, to me, is a happy ending.

The trouble with fairy tales

I've always been a romantic.

When I first started writing in grade school, I would write love poems, even if at the age of ten, I had no idea what real love was. As I moved away from poems and into prose, I found myself writing love stories about best friends falling in love with each other. I collected Sweet Dreams and Love Stories, teenage romance novels that were also about best friends falling in love, or the bad boy falling in love with the good girl, or the jock falling in love with the nerd. Even in adulthood, I gravitate towards chick flicks where the guy always gets the girl in the end.

The trouble with surrounding myself with these fairy tales is that I had become conditioned to believe that love ends with happily ever after. That you may fight a little, but you'll still end up with each other because you're meant to be together! You've found The One! He was right beside you all along!

The thing is, love is nothing like that. As I've learned, love isn't supposed to be easy and it's not even romantic. When you get down to it, love is a conscious decision to be fully present to another person. This means caring about that other person's life, being involved, ready to offer a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, cheering them on, and really knowing them. It includes knowledge of mundane things like food allergies and random things like being afraid of cats and total darkness. It means knowing a little bit about childhood anecdotes, but not so much that there's nothing new to discover.

Fairy tales never tell you about these things. They don't tell you what happens after the prince and princess rode on the white horse and into the sunset to their happily-ever-after. Does the prince snore and keep the princess awake all night, making her cranky in the morning? Does the princess have an annoying habit of leaving her clothes on the floor instead of putting them in a hamper, like a real princess should? Do they ever argue about which kingdom to visit over the holidays? Fairy tales don't tell you these things because these are issues of real life, which only means that the fairy tale is over and real life has begun.

The trouble with fairy tales is it makes you believe that real life is not a story in itself. I suppose it's why a lot of couples like to say "the honeymoon is over!" when troubles begin to arise. But I've found that real life is so much more interesting than the fairy tale. After all, there is beauty in the way the prince makes a cup of coffee for the princess as a way of apologizing for keeping her up. Everyone has annoying habits because no one is perfect. And arguing --if done correctly-- is a way of challenging each other and can teach you both a thing or two about yourselves to make you better people.

Now, when I read a book or watch a movie, I see it for what it is: a work of fiction. Because once you turn the last page and the credits roll, the more beautiful story called Real Life continues.

A love affair with words

While most people like to post photos of food or their outfits of the day, a look at my Instagram profile revealed to me that I like to post about words.

A couple of months ago, when the days were dark, I liked to look for quotes that inspired me to have a more positive outlook. I would post them in my Instagram account in the hope that someone else would also be inspired by it. It's the tech version of reading The Warrior of the Light by Paulo Coelho and writing on my journal after meditating.

Now that I've started reading and writing again, I find myself taking photos of passages that speak to me. Lately, I've started making very short poems-- just four lines, always about love, turned into an image using the Phoster app on my iPhone.

I don't know why I just realized it now that words have always been very important to me, so I've always felt that they're worth posting and sharing. Now that I'm a writer by profession, I suppose you can say I have an ongoing love affair with words.

It makes me realize that perhaps I've always

What I learned from writing about one-night stands

Let me just put it out there: in this month's issue of Men's Health Philippines, aside from writing about how to beat procrastination, I wrote an article on one-night stands.

I hesitated about promoting the article because I worried about what my more traditional and conservative friends and family would say about me writing about such a topic. But then I realized, what I write about is not necessarily what I believe or condone. (Plus, it's a six-page major feature-- in terms of milestones, it's right up there with the cover story for Good Housekeeping that I did in 2010. How can I not be proud?!)

I have always chosen to look at the reality and not the morality of situations because I feel I am never in a position to pass judgment on the way people choose to live their lives, in the same way that I would not want to be judged for the way I've chosen to live mine. And there are many different realities that I've come across in this world: people cheat on their loved ones, people stay with the ones they love. People choose to give it to someone they love, someone they just met, someone they don't love; people choose to save it for the one they'll marry. People wait for The One to arrive, people actively look for The One. Whether all of this is good or bad is up to them to decide for themselves.

Which is not to say that I don't have my own opinions and feelings about things like these. For example, when I find out that someone is cheating on a partner, it really ticks me off, having been cheated on myself. But my stance is always this: I hope they know what really matters to them at the end of the day, what they're risking, what the consequences are, and that they won't regret the decisions they've made when the time comes. I can say what I want about how cheating is wrong and all that, but ultimately, it's your life to live. No one should ever tell you how to live your life.

Besides, with all of these differences in experiences, decisions, and ways of living, there is so much to learn from others. Rather than judge, I choose to learn. My life is richer and my view is wider because of it. Through the years, I've learned to respect and accept views and experiences that are very different from mine, and I think it's interesting that such a variety of experiences, opinions, and emotions exist, all in just one world we live in.

So in writing this article, I learned what drives women to engage in one-night stands. I learned that evolution has a role in courtship, in the way men and women enter and view relationships, in the way we see sexuality. As a writer, it is my responsibility to share these insights so that men who do choose to engage in one-night stands can be better informed about how their partner feels as well. It was my privilege to hear the stories of women who trusted me enough to share their experiences on something that hardly anyone talks about so candidly-- and it's therefore my duty to do justice to their stories.

I'm proud of this article because I've never written anything like it before, and I hope that you'll learn something from it too. The December issue of Men's Health Philippines is available in newsstands, bookstores, and supermarkets nationwide (writing that phrase just brought back a whole lot of memories of my past life in PR!) and I hope you'll drop me a line to let me know what you think. :)

The Happiness Project

"You hit a goal, you keep a resolution."

Photo from Google Images

I just finished reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and one thing it made me realize-- I'm pretty happy with my life.

It was at the end of the book that I realized this, when I was reading her tips on how to start your own happiness project. It said that aside from thinking of what makes you feel good, you should also think of areas in your life that make you feel bad, that don't feel right, that require more growth. Looking at the big picture of my life, I'm in a good place. But upon closer examination, there are areas I want to improve on:

1. Exercise more often. Because the book suggests making it a concrete, actionable goal, I need to set a specific time of day to get on the treadmill. On the days that I have work, I plan to park much farther than I usually do so that it's a considerable walk to the office.

2. Find time for prayer. Honestly, I end my day with a phone call from my fiance, not with prayer. I don't start my day with prayer either, and just find myself talking to God randomly throughout the day. Which is not a bad thing, but there had been a point in my life where I was able to meditate and write on my journal on a daily basis. I need to carve out some quiet time in my life, and I think it entails waking up earlier every day.

3. Read a book. A confession: I love reading in the toilet. Where other people bring a magazine or the newspaper, I bring my books. But ever since I got an iPad (and later on, an iPhone), I found myself using Toilet Time to browse Facebook instead. I decided to bring back my old habit by starting with The Happiness Project and realized that I could actually work through my never-ending book list by reading just a chapter every day, one book at a time. It would be a bonus if I could find the time to lounge in my big chair with a book, but at least I've come up with a minimum requirement.

4. Blog more often. Being able to blog on a daily basis seems to be a difficult goal to achieve. Not only because I'm busy with work, but I also find that I don't have so much to share every day. When I was much younger, I had an opinion on everything and itched to blog, sometimes more than once a day, every day. But as I grew older, I realized that you don't have to have an opinion about everything, and even if you do, the whole world doesn't need to know about it. Editing my thoughts and the words that come out of my mouth has been a worthy exercise all these years because it means that I try to say things that I mean and in the precise way that I want to say them. I do want to keep this blog going though, so I think I just need to be realistic about how often I want to share things that are actually meaningful and worth talking about. Maybe once a week is doable?

5. Spend more time offline. Now that I have a job that requires me to be online and "always on" (and I have the gadgets to make it easier to really be always on, anytime, anywhere), I need to make a conscious effort to unplug and spend some time offline. When I think about it, some of what I can do for my job can actually be done offline, like brainstorming or mapping out a structure, then I can just go online again to flesh out the ideas. There is something to be said about sitting away from a computer, thinking without looking at a screen, getting up to stretch every so often. And because my work requires me to be online much of the time, as much as possible I'd like to spend my non-work hours offline.

I suppose these five things are enough for now. The book actually encourages you to come up with things like your Splendid Truths (which are basically words you live by), or a list of things that make you happy, but there is a danger for me to get caught up in making the lists, such that I forget about actually getting up to do something. So maybe it's better that I've started with the resolutions, right as the year draws to a close. At least I have time for a bit of a dry run!

Farewell to the Twenties

An article on Buzzfeed has been popping up on my Facebook timeline: Every Year of your 20s, Ranked from Worst to Best. It made me realize that I entered this new decade without really taking the time to say farewell to my twenties. With so many things happening this year, I already know what my 30s will be like: new beginnings, new chapters, new adventures. But what have I left behind in the past ten years?

So, I'm taking the time on this lazy Saturday to hit two birds with one stone: exercise my writing-for-leisure skills by updating my blog, and reflect on the past ten years at the same time. I'll be using the Buzzfeed article's ranking to see if it's accurate (haha):

AGE 23 (year 2006): While I'd like to say that Buzzfeed got this all wrong because this was the year that I rekindled a friendship with the man who is now my fiance, a deeper look into that year reveals all of the challenges that came with it. It was the year I started my career in media relations, and I had no idea what I was getting into! In my first few months, all of my bosses resigned one after the other, and by the time I was a few months shy of 24, our team effectively had no boss. It was the year that I learned everything from experience, and just had to roll with the punches as they came. A roller-coaster year I'm not sure I would relive.

But on the bright side, before I said farewell to Age 23, I was able to travel with my girl friends out of the country for the first time. That trip to Hongkong opened my eyes to how different traveling with friends was-- taking the train at midnight to go to the Night Market, waking up at 9:30AM to have breakfast at McDonalds, walking down the streets of Hongkong without a clear agenda. That trip is forever stamped in my memory.

AGE 20 (year 2003): Third year college. I'm trying to think long and hard about anything that strikes me about that year, but all I can think of is that this was the year we started learning Philosophy and Theology, and that I got together with my ex. Ho-hum. Next!

AGE 26 (year 2009): This is the year I got diagnosed with acid reflux, and nothing was ever the same again. How horrible. But this was also the year that I was able to visit Bangkok with a good friend. It felt amazing to travel with just one other person who also shares the same interests, and we made a very good decision to visit the ancient capital Ayutthaya. That was a great trip.

AGE 24 (year 2007): The Year Without a Boss. One full year of our team fending for ourselves. But it was also a year where we had the most fun as a team and became our own little family. We didn't know it then, but it would also be our last year in our old office-- the end of an era.

This wasn't such a bad year, as I was able to travel to Pagudpud with my girl friends, again with zero planning on our part. Even now, we laugh at the memory of how we got out of the Laoag airport, how some of us got drunk on videoke night, and how eight girls fit into two tricycles for a tour around the area.

AGE 27 (year 2010): I distinctly remember being on a radio tour with one of my favorite editors, and she had asked me how old I was turning since my birthday was coming up. When I said I was turning 27, she said, "That's an exciting year." And it truly was. So many milestones happened this year. On the work front, I got promoted to assistant manager, then to acting manager a few months after. Then my boyfriend and I were able to take our first out-of-town trip together with friends, and that trip to Bantayan, Cebu was his first time ever to ride an airplane. That was also my first time to travel with a new set of friends from the workplace. There are so many happy memories from that trip, and Bantayan remains to be the best beach we've been to, in his opinion.

AGE 21 (year 2004): Senior year in college. I remember feeling on top of the world on this year. I was in leadership positions in my organizations, and I always felt like I was passing the baton to the younger generation. We were looking forward to the Real World. My friends and I worked through our thesis and I learned to survive on coffee and M&Ms at 3AM. Even now, I don't know how that thesis got written because I remember how we had to watch all those movies, how I learned to use the microfilm machine at the library, and how I slept through my favorite History class because I was running on zero, but I have no recollection of actually writing and proofreading our thesis. All I know is this year, as challenging as it was, had me feeling like I could do anything and be anything.

AGE 29 (year 2012): This is where Buzzfeed gets it wrong. It was a horrible year on the work front. A year of disappointment and disillusionment. A reality check. I felt like I was in limbo all year, not sure of where everything was going. I left my first job and got into a new one that didn't prove to be the best decision. It was a year of failure. But then, not being used to failing, I guess it was a year that was necessary for growth. The traveling kept me sane this year-- South Korea, Puerto Princesa, and Boracay all in one year! Plus, I made some new friends, so it wasn't all that bad.

AGE 25 (year 2008): The year we moved to a new office. The year I made new friends at work. The year I started to take on a leadership role at work. And the year we finally got more than just a boss, but a great mentor. It was the year I started feeling confident in what I was doing, and that I was put in this profession for a reason.

AGE 22 (year 2005): Again, Buzzfeed got it wrong. Horrible year, thanks to the Ex! This was the worst year ever, but I suppose it's also the one with the most stories to tell. Wasting time in the office in a pseudo-job that basically meant we were being paid to use the Internet to learn more Photoshop and look for a better job, drinking at 2PM, drinking with friends, being stupid about love and broken promises-- gosh let's just skip this year all together!

AGE 28 (year 2011): Strangely, Buzzfeed calls this the best year ever, but I don't remember anything striking about this year. Sure, I felt more confident at work, my relationship was secure, friendships were solid. But other than that, I wouldn't say this was the best year.


When people ask me what year or age I will always come back to, I think I will always say this year, the year I turned 30. This is the year that I worked up the courage to follow my dreams, the year I got engaged, the year I finally felt I am where I'm supposed to be. My twenties proved to be a decade of growth, of forging lasting friendships and relationships with people, of ending unhealthy relationships, of seeing more of the world, of making memories that I wouldn't necessarily relive. What a relief to bid farewell to that decade! I can't wait to see what this new decade has in store!

All shall be well

Photo from Pinterest

They say every girl has a dream wedding, one that she's been putting together ever since she was a little girl. I can't say I'm one of those girls, because I've never really thought about it until we started talking seriously about the future. My dreams, like me, are simple-- I just want it to be an affair where everyone has a lot of fun, enjoys good food (preferably a ton of seafood), and come together in a place that's not some boring ballroom or function hall. As much as possible, I want to go beyond the confines of four walls and have a place that looks out into something, whether it's a garden or a great view. But more than anything, I want it to be a practical, cost-efficient affair, especially since we have a place that we're saving up for.

In the two months since I've gotten engaged, we've been busy checking out possible reception venues. As it turns out, while there are many venues that fit my beyond-four-walls criteria, there are so many other things that also need to be considered: the presence of air-conditioning, the location and its proximity to the church, and most of all, the budget. I've been looking through beautiful photos and having my heart broken a little when I see the cost estimates, and sometimes when the venue is not as pretty in real life as I had thought it would be.

So today, I was feeling a little blue after receiving yet another over-the-budget cost estimate from a beautiful venue, and I texted my fiance (I still need to get used to calling him this!) that I was kinda down. He replied, "Don't be. :) Things are going well for us. :D"

Seeing that text made me realize that I had lost sight of the bigger picture: we are planning for the rest of our lives together. This wedding is just one day, a tiny speck in forever. And I'm lucky to have a guy who is able to keep my worries at bay by reassuring me that everything will fall into place, who is able to see all of this planning and preparation as an adventure that we're embarking on together. The first of many more adventures that we'll take. At the end of the day, we could get married in Timbuktu but what would still matter is that we're together.

So I take a deep breath and claim this: we will get the date that we want, in the church that we want, we'll get a great venue where our families will come together, and we'll get all the suppliers that are right for us. All it takes is faith that everything will work out as it should-- happily ever after.

Living the dream

Photo from Pinterest

It's been a long time since I've posted something. So much has been going on that I haven't had time to really step back and make sense of everything. It feels as though every day, I've just been going with the flow of wherever life takes me, and yet I know exactly where I'm going: where my heart tells me to.

Who would've thought I'd end up in Advertising, though? I always swore I'd never get into it, like I said in a previous entry. But it's been almost two months, and I realize that my previous jobs prepared me for this kind of job-- having accounts to service, coming up with content and strategy to promote a brand, taking care of a brand's image in the digital space. And yet everything is also new, as the digital world --particularly the world of social media-- is so exciting. A decade ago, Facebook didn't exist. Five years ago, smartphones weren't the norm. And yet today, almost everyone has a Facebook account, and more and more people are accessing the Internet and their social media platforms on a mobile device. I suddenly have front-row seats to what will happen three, five years from now: will Facebook still be the way it is? Will a new social media platform be born? Will some of the platforms we thought we couldn't live without die (RIP, Multiply and Friendster)? How will technology continue to shape and change the way we connect to each other? It's so refreshing to belong in this ever-changing world!

The thing with this job is that it has full-time demands while still giving me the freedom to keep my own hours. While I'm crafting social media content for my accounts, I'm also writing feature articles and advertorials. These past two months, I've been very thankful that my friends in the industry have been giving me work, and that I've encountered new people who are also trusting in my ability to deliver. I am so grateful for the chance to have my name in publications I never thought I could really write for, and that I'm given the opportunity to meet new people, hear new stories, and tell them in the best way I can. Slowly but steadily, I'm building my name and getting paid while I'm at it.

Which is a good thing, because I need to work hard and save a lot, now more than ever. The most exciting thing has been getting engaged. For someone like me who loves to plan, I am raring to do all the planning! My dream wedding is a practical and budget-friendly one, and I love the challenge of finding suppliers and packages that give you bang for buck. So in between the social media content and the writing, I've also been doing lots of researching, pinning on Pinterest, and making Powerpoint presentations compiling my ideas. The wedding is a long way off, and it's a good thing because we're determined to have fun throughout the process of planning it. It is, after all, a celebration! We're attending our first bridal fair next month, and we can't wait-- I'm so excited that I'm researching on the suppliers that will be there. He's so lucky I love to plan! Maybe after this, I can also freelance as a wedding planner. Haha!

All of this happened when I started saying "Yes" to my dreams and following my heart. I had always dreamed of keeping my own hours, doing what I love to do, and still being productive. And now, that's my reality. I just have to keep trusting that He will provide for me, one day at a time. What a blessing to be able to live my dreams!

Here's hoping you have the courage to say "Yes" to your dreams, too. :)