Not much book reading, but I’ve been reading a lot of longform articles on Substack and other publications. But I’m trying to finish Yesteryear and Jenna Free’s ADHD Regulation book! I’ll try to finish both when September ends.

Eating

I’ve been eating out a lot lately, especially this August. My favorite meals and treats for August were the Beef Caldereta Omurice from UCC Clockwork in One Ayala, the hojicha pistachio latte from Chaia Cafe, and old favorites like Kodawari’s gyudon and karaage!

Playing

August was a good month for movies and music. I love the new NCT 127 comeback and Dino’s solo debut as Picheolin. These are my albums on repeat, as well as old songs like Another World from NCT 127 and Vienna by Billy Joel.

As for films, I watched Ganito, Ganyan, Ganoon (which was brilliantly written by my dear friend ) and it was such a heartfelt film that will hit you to your core. I also finished 9 to 5, which was a fun, yet sobering watch on working life for women everywhere. To this day, women still face various forms of inequality at work, such as lower paydays, misogyny, discrimination, and harassment, as well as a lack of accommodations for mothers and disabled and chronically workers. For this film, I was also reminded of Dolly Parton’s legacy as an advocate for women, the LGBTQIA+ community, and the working class, and how she advocated for better healthcare and literacy throughout her life. Through this film and her songwriting, she was able to tap into the struggles and joys of working women.

Obsessing

• Currently obsessed with the things happening in the track and field scene. I’ve yapped about it on my track and field newsletter, so go take a look at it.

• The trailer for the Bluey movie. The animation style reminds me of the plushies that you can get in-store!

• Taking short naps

• Mondo’s theme song for the World Ultimate Championships!

Ranting

Just like every Filipino out there, I’m ranting about how messed up our infrastructure is and how susceptible our country is to flooding. The routine flooding and the lack of climate mitigation is making things frustrating, especially when you see certain celebrities and relatives of politicians showing off their ill-gotten wealth and making dumb, out-of-touch takes.

Treating

Treated myself way too much this August. I’m gonna dial back on how I spend this September.

Also thinking of treating myself to a long walk this month, if the weather and roads permit.

One of those celebrities is Heart Evangelista. She’s married to Chiz Escudero, which seemingly gives her unparalleled access to wealth, status, influence, and power, which were things that she microdosed at the peak of her stardom. But to be honest, her peak and influence as a celebrity is not tantamount to Kris Aquino’s, Angel Locsin’s, Bea Alonzo’s or Anne Curtis’. She ruined the role of Alwina for me during Mulawin vs. Ravena, and she didn’t stand out to me in Hiram. Anne Curtis did. She will never coax me into buying YSL in the way that Anne Curtis would make me buy P2,500 pullover sweaters from Recess or lip tints and blushes from BLK Cosmetics.

Being in proximity to a dizzying amount of power and wealth probably bought her a fandom that acts like a troll farm-slash-cult that reflect the kind of person that she is: heartless, greedy, messy, pretentious, dumb, and corrupt. You have her “fans” that are apparently getting into deep debt just to attain the lifestyle that she’s showing off on social media while they dox and bully those who make legitimate criticisms of her wealth, intellect, and influence. To her kulto, to criticize her is a mortal sin. As of this writing, I had to delete my Reddit account because one of her trolls tried to dox me. They also dox people and make ad hominem comments about those who question her moves. She’s a public figure whose tax numbers are hidden, yet spends like she wears items that have the total cost of a top-of-the-line government-owned property.

Knowing her questionable sources of wealth, lack of intelligence, social climbing tendencies, and ties to corruption, it’s almost impossible to be naive to the kind of person that she actually is, despite numerous efforts to clean up her image. In actuality, I have yet to read an in-depth profile about her that’s a little more honest and authentic.

Recently, she made a statement on the traffic situation tied with tardiness here in the Philippines.

Sure, being punctual stands for something. You’re being considerate and helpful to those around you, be it in work or friendships. But it’s not always the end-all-be-all of morality.

However, seeing her spew those words felt offensive to many Filipino middle-class commuters like myself. Even though I’m grateful to be working from home at least 90% of the time, I have to commute during mandatory office days. If I do so, I have to wake up early or allot more money to make my trip to the office comfortable. If I need to ride the jeepney from Sun Valley to Gate 3, I have to leave the house at 6:15 a.m. the latest tapos I’ll just take a MoveIt or a Grab/Green GSM to get to where I need to be in the BGC/McKinley Hill area. Makikipagsapalaran ako sa mga kapwa kong commuting warriors. But before work-from-home or work-from-anywhere arrangements became an option for companies, getting to work is a hellish experience, regardless if you’re a car owner or commuter.

Case in point: pre-pandemic, my dad and I had to wake up at 5 am or earlier so we can beat the traffic in the Paranaque area and make it to work on time. Naka-kotse na kami. When I’m left to my own devices, I commute. And it used to take me 2-4 rides from my house to Makati or BGC. To make it to work on time, I have to wake up early and skip breakfast, as well as pertinent chores just to be able to reach the office. And it can be exhausting, overstimulating, and dysregulating. Especially when roads are flooded and impossible to pass through. Long lines and cramped buses, jeepneys, or vans take a toll on one’s physical and mental well-being too.

It also didn’t help that some workplaces penalized employees for tardiness by making substantial salary deductions. At one of the workplaces that I used to work for, this was the rule. I would see my ex-colleagues get penalized for it too, but they just took it for what it is, rather than questioning this rule and requesting for more flexible workplace arrangements and timings (which I did). Overtime pay did not exist in that workplace, as well as reasonable accommodations. As a result, I would get comments from senior coworkers telling me that my work ethic is “poor,” or that I have a “discipline problem,” while the others going through the same thing don’t get those kinds of comments.

I’m offended by what Heart said about punctuality and tardiness because she comes across as out-of-touch and vile. She doesn’t have the moral ascendancy to drop those comments because she doesn’t commute and doesn’t have a grasp of the public transportation situation in Metro Manila and nearby provinces. Heck, I doubt if she has the brain cells to comprehend such things. Not to mention, her husband is one of the most powerful men in the country—the type who could create and influence policies that would shape our quality of life as a nation. Pero hindi eh. Anong ginagawa nila? Naglalamierda sa Paris at ginagastos ang ating pera for tacky-ass couture na hindi naman afford ng isang ordinaryong Pilipino? Na ang pera na dapat ilalaan sa mas maayos na flood control systems at infrastructure, pati na rin public transportation facilities. Dito nga sa Paranaque na binabaha ang ilang lugar simula pa noong panahon ni Joey Marquez or something, binabaha parin. Tapos yung mayor at mga congressman dito, nagtetennis, nagbaballroom, o kumakanta sa kung saan, kaysa sa harapin ang sitwasyon dito. Maraming stranded sa mga mall dito tuwing may bagyo o Habagat.

And here is this bitch, a C-list celebrity with questionable fashion choices and sources of wealth telling me to be punctual and professional while the systems in place constantly fail regular Filipinos to exercise those things? Commuting alone takes up a good chunk of our time and our lives, which hinder us from increasing our overall quality of life. And mobility is tied to our access to education, which play a part in that improvement. It also doesn’t help that our country continues to have issues in our educational system. Many kids are struggling to reach the minimum proficiency level in various subject areas, and poverty plays a huge role in how many Filipino kids and teens process and comprehend information presented to them. Not to mention, there’s an undercurrent of “compliance culture” in our education system, where Filipino students are taught to experience education through memorization or getting perfect answers, instead of giving students the space to think and learn. To add, there’s also that age-old societal belief where having a good education is perceived as a ticket to better opportunities (which is a belief that my parents and I subscribed by). As a result of these beliefs and challenges, many people have grown susceptible to disinformation and the power of troll farms, even outside of politics.

Heart Evangelista is an example of a celebrity who gained clout through the power of disinformation, troll farms, and toxic PR machinery. Through her trolls-slash-cult, she has built an image of wealth and elegance that some Filipinos tried to aspire for. The cult hypes her media impact value during Fashion Week, which they allege is real money. But MIVs do not hold actual monetary value. These trolls also deify her and put other fashion influencers down just to make her seem look good, especially in the midst of the flood control scandal. On Threads, anyone who tries to question and criticize the legitimacy of her status as a celebrity as a fashion icon gets doxxed and bullied by her trolls-slash-cult. Not to mention, they respond and create content using ChatGPT or AI tools, showing how devoid they are of thinking or expressing themselves properly, just like their idol.

Now that I think about it, her criticism towards tardiness is an attempt to absolve her own materialism and poor character. Her punctuality and “professionalism” is praised in the industry, but that’s all she’s got, I guess.

I don’t have any clean resolution to this, but if there’s anything I’ve learned from this whole thing, it’s that stanning problematic celebrities with links to disinformation and corruption can corrupt one’s own identity and values. Especially when their wealth is supposed to be for the common good.

Sources:

1. Evite, T. (2026, February 17). Why we don’t have hobbies: A day in the life of a “time-poor” Filipino. structured rants from systemic scars. https://systemicscars.substack.com/p/why-we-dont-have-hobbies-a-day-in?r=5cimv&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=post+viewer

2. CORDETA, K. J. (2026). The learning crisis in philippine education: A multi-dimensional analysis of literacy, systemic challenges, and reform directions. International Journal of Social Science and Human Research, 09(04). https://doi.org/10.47191/ijsshr/v9-i4-86

3. Espinosa, A. (2025, October 12). The tyranny of compliance in higher education. Philstar.Com. https://www.philstar.com/news-commentary/2025/10/12/2479344/tyranny-compliance-higher-education

4. Pilar. (2026, August 28). Heartless: Late ka? Sounds like a YOU problem. Substack.Com; Pilar. https://substack.com/home/post/p-213011564?selection=b365f716-56aa-48c8-8d2d-3d2c81d38fc3

I decided to head to the office, which is the local HQ of one of the world’s biggest consumer brands. I happen to work under the in-house creative agency of this CPG company, where I plan and write content for some of their brands. I still have a long way to go in terms of building my skills as a content and communications strategist, but working on trendspotting projects is a step in the right direction. Unlike my work at my previous agency, the workload is easier and the social demands are a little lower than usual. I get to finish my work on time. I get to push back when I need to.

I started my day a little late. I wanted to wake up at 5 am today to cook my breakfast, but I ended up sleeping in.

Instead, I woke up at around 6:30 and immediately went on my phone to look at Instagram. I learned that Dolly Parton died. My childhood friend was on jury duty. The hype for the Zurich Diamond League meet is there.

I stayed in bed a little longer and started to cry after reading some tributes about Dolly Parton. Was not a fan of her music, but I knew how large her impact was on pop culture and community care.

I then continued to clean my room, specifically my bed. I also tried to sort out some of my clean clothes. It’s still a work-in-progress.

I showered, wore my clothes, and fixed my things. I stayed a little longer for my pets and gave them early lunch.

I headed out of the house. Berry, my dog, is not happy. He’s the clingiest dog alive. To start my commute, I rode the tricycle from Annex 41 to the BDO in Sun Valley Drive. It’s cheaper and easier to get a ride from there.

The commute to the office today felt discouraging. The fares for InDrive/Grab/GreenGSM are pretty high, while there were no Move Its available near my neighborhood. Instead, I had to commission a habal-habal to take me from Sun Valley to BGC. My fare reached P200, which seemed fair.

I then went to work at the office cafeteria. I led briefings for some of my projects and did some writing work. Briefings are usually terrifying for me, but I try to power through. I also did some admin work, which involved making recaps of my work days for the past month.

Before I ended my day, I headed to a Pizza Telefono branch. My love for that restaurant chain is widely documented here and it feels great to finally eat my favorite Penne al Telefono once again.

During my lunch break, I had a funny and strange encounter with Korina Sanchez at the Zara near my office. She mistook me for being a Sales Associate at the store, despite wanting to buy some things. Looking back, her lore seems to get weirder and weirder…and meaner?

@__annyeonghaseyetoday's kwento! as a BGC gworlie in corporate na matapang gumastos ng pera during her lunch break...eto po ang nangyari #storytime #funny

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I finished my work day and decided to head to BGC High Street Central. While on the way there, I saw one of my ex-coworkers at one of my early ad agency jobs. I knew them as one of those mean-spirited colleagues who would undermine me. Instead of attempting to greet them, I just walked away because I know I’ve come so far from those days. I don’t want to give power to my past situation anymore. It took me so much work to get to where I am now. Besides, that person looked grumpy and upset.

I fulfilled my donut craving.

Anyway, I hope your day went well. If not, I hope you’re trying to take care of yourself. I’m rooting for you.

Until the next brain dump,

Lea

I have a confession to make: I hate it when people try to stop me from fighting back or sharing my true feelings whenever I’m hurt or being bullied. Or when people tone police me.

If there’s anything I learned from having my anger and frustrations micromanaged, it’s that I’m a big grudgeholder and I will bring it up when I feel like it. But it’s something that I’m constantly working on. That not a lot of people will be receptive to expressing your hurt and that life goes on.

One early incident that I had with this was during third grade. I had several bullies during that time: one was an older bully who taunted me and insulted my looks and overall existence while putting my two same-aged friends on a pedestal, the others were two of my classmates, with one of them being related to a certain local politician. Around this time, my mother had just passed away, and the bullying had just been terrible. When it came time to express my frustration with the older bully, I called her a bitch. This older bully made my whole ordeal at the school bus deeply uncomfortable, up until my freshman year of high school. This bully was status-obsessed and was VERY snarky and judgmental towards everyone around her. But she wasn’t called out for it.

My older busmates (who were older than us) ended up asking me if I knew what bitch meant. I just said, “oh, she’s evil. And oh, she’s a female dog.”

And then I was advised not to fight back. But I wanted to.

When I tried to express a boundary or stand up for myself, I would get backhanded compliments from peers like, “Ah, si Lea lumalaban na,” or would occasionally get the advice na “Ipasa-Diyos ko na lang.” But knowing the frustration and the pain that I had that time, I wanted to express the gravity of the hurt that I was feeling. I wanted to tell the people around me that I was hurt. Instead, I turned that hurt inward. I learned to hate myself and pushed myself to be a massive people-pleaser who had to earn people’s validation because I amounted to nothing to them. I would sometimes have thoughts of self-exiting because the bullying had gotten so bad and I was policed for not being able to speak up. It also didn’t help that I was being the one policed in public when I try to emulate the snark and cruelty that people threw at me, while the others are enabled to do it freely.

Ten years after that, I ended up being on the receiving end of backstabbing and bullying from my org mates. It all started during our planning seminar, where my older org mates have made speculations about me, or pointed out certain flaws. I was too “closed off,” and “too awkward.” At that time, I was a junior officer at Ateneo’s advertising org. Looking back at my time there, I realized that I barely picked up anything from my time about the Filipino ad industry as an officer, instead of being a part-time member during the previous school year.

I had my reasons to be “closed off.” While my dad was able to financially support my Ateneo education and living expenses with little to no worries, there’s an unspoken rule where you have to keep up socially with org life. It meant spending on events and experiences as a way to show your commitment to the org, especially those with well-off members. My dad expressed deep hesitation for it, to the point where I’m almost not allowed to participate in such things, because it’s a “waste of money.” My dad would always remind me, “Pumunta kang Ateneo para mag-aral, hindi makipag-sosyalan.” I had to be “closed off” because there was no budget allotted to network and act all sosyal in these events or activities. My dad was the one providing for us all these years with his professorial salary and consulting gigs, and he was also the breadwinner of his relatives aside from our own. There was little to no room to spend on “org expenses,” and asking my dad for it would merit a long sermon or a low-grade argument.

You know the advice that I got from my orgmate-slash-fellow officer?

“Be nice.”

FOR WHAT? What’s there to be nice about?

I know that I’m kind and helpful to those around me. It’s something that my parents taught me from childhood. I genuinely carry these values in my life. But at that time, I couldn’t fathom why I had to be advised to act that way, especially in the org setting. It also didn’t help that this orgmate at that time acted like she was a Small Laude copycat who saw me as inferior to her, na para bang na-reinforce yung negative self-talk ko na isa akong troglodyte to her na walang alam.

So during my term, I made an effort to be nice and to be as professional with my org work, while I juggled my school work and my internship. Despite everything, I still got bullied where I was told that my selfies were disgusting and that I was annoying and “smelled bad.”

When it came time to tell my orgmate about this, she just told me, “be the bigger person.”

Be the bigger person.

In some cases, it works. It sometimes works when a fucking DDS creeps up on your social media feed and gives you an ad hominem comment on your socials. It works when you get the wrong order from your go-to restaurant and the staff apologizes to you profusely. It works when there’s a common goal between two parties to seek repair and renewal in their relationship.

In this case, “being the bigger person” and not making patol to the bullying that my other orgmates did behind my back gave me anxiety and meltdowns outside of the org room. I became more closed off than ever, only showing up to org meetings when told, and not hanging out in the org room unlike before. I felt unsafe around my orgmates. I thought achieving things would be a safe way to fight back, but it didn’t.

Instead, I left that org and I pivoted back to writing. I was frustrated with how things panned out. My experience there was so bad that I thought that I wasn’t cut out for the ad industry. It also didn’t help that the org was basically operating as a party/tambay org 60% of the time, rather than a quasi-ad agency for aspiring creatives and suits who wanted to enter the industry.

I guess it was a “be the bigger person”-type of move at that time, but looking back at everything, I wish I stood my ground. I wish I wasn’t as duwag or was meek and compliant during my childhood, because I knew that I spoke my mind and that I would question everything. Ironically, a teacher from grade school praised me for my “fighting spirit,” which would put off practically everyone around me, which included some parents.

I’ve come to realize that “being the bigger person” is not always the solution. We’ve seen it in public movements. Ignoring will lead to something else more unsavory. I ended up learning to fight back and speak up after college. Putangina, hindi ako sumbungera. May backbone din ako. I know my worth. After being bullied relentlessly to the point of PTSD by my first manager, it finally made sense that I needed to snap back and stop letting things be. That “time will heal all wounds,” which felt like a solution to the bullying and friendship that I had with my busmates and other peers at that time. When I expressed my pain, I felt like I was talking to the void.

Speaking up for me felt like the most natural thing to do once I became an adult. Not only about my pain, but in causes and issues that matter.
And it irks me to this day that people still try to stifle that.

But I will not take everything sitting down. I will speak up, then block when necessary.

Until the next brain dump,
Lea

1. Although the weather is crappy right now, I used my free will and spent the rest of my birthday in Makati. I talked to my therapist and cried from a cafe instead of at home.

2. Booking a therapy session on your birthday seems symbolic and necessary.

3. Speaking of therapy, I’ve been seeing my DBT/talk therapist for two years now. He’s gotten me out of the worst ruts of my life. I’ve also yapped to him about the world’s worst evils, and I’m grateful for him clocking my autism and diagnosing me.

4. I also need to get in touch with my EMDR therapist soon, and he’s been extremely helpful with fleshing out my traumas and trying to process them. Now that I’m thinking about it, I think EMDR and reiki feel very similar to one another.

5. Oftentimes, I think about the privileges that I have and I’m constantly finding ways to use the privileges I have for good.

6. Do I deserve to spend my money on a blowout at a salon? Perhaps? I just need to know if they’re okay with my new piercing.

7. Speaking of piercings, they hurt more than tattoos but they’re more temporary, so I’ll take that.

8. I have a lot going on at my job at the moment. While I’m grateful for having work, I know it doesn’t have to be my personality and overall identity, even if I spend lots of time at work.

9. I am feeling sleepy at the moment. But my mouth also feels a little dry. I want a big bottle of water. But I’m sad that I lost my Sunnies Flask. Another ADHD tax incurred.

10. I would sometimes think about pursuing part-time influencing and content creation as a means to express myself and rationalize my shopping habits, but being an influencer-slash-creator will probably open me up to more self-loathing and overcompensating.

11. Getting your steps in during this storm is a gamble. Maybe walking indoors is better.

12. The NCT 127 comeback is coming soon and I’m looking forward to it. Piñata sounds very promising. It’s very Chicosci-coded though.

13. I saw a bunch of familiar faces from college, and it felt heartwarming. An old friend I cherished for decades also congratulated me about my new job. Although I have complicated feelings about this person, I still wish them the best and I hope they’re safe and healthy.

14. Is it too late to lock in and be ambitious at 32? After so many interpersonal heartbreaks and mental health challenges, I feel like I’m catching up on the life that I want to build for myself. While others have stepped up earlier, I think I’m on track to step into a new side of myself that’s kinder, curious, and more responsible. That need to step up includes seeking hobbies that make my life richer, creating genuine friendships, as well as swearing off dating.

15. As I’ve mentioned, being Autistic has been a massive part of my identity for the past year now. I felt like being AuDHD and experiencing complex PTSD throughout my formative years has given me a reckoning on how I live my life.

16. Being diagnosed as Autistic finally gave me answers on why I acted a certain way as a child. Why I had big feelings and stims. Why I would melt down over friendship disagreements. Why I felt so misunderstood and dysregulated. Healing this takes a lot of work.

17. Seeing Berry get anxious over the rain and thunder is making me sad. He needs all the cuddles and company right now. Meanwhile, I’m thinking about how I’ll get Muffin (our house cat) spayed. My go-to vet clinic quoted me a hefty price for their spaying service. But we’ll cross the bridge when we get there.

18. I’m so excited to see the Filipino Substack community thrive. Pwede na huminga ng malalim at magsulat in Taglish! And so much good writing has come out lately from peers on this platform.

19. I wonder if cooking wine really tenderizes meat. Gotta try it with a recipe!

20. The rain still hasn’t stopped. But ironically, it’s a reminder for me to pause with all my lakwatsa this week.

21. But I still want to get my cheesecake and matcha. But I haven’t been at my 100% lately.

22. I’m lucky be to 32, and I’m happy to be alive. My 12-13 year old self would be flabbergasted (FLABBERGASTED?!) that I’ve lived beyond thirty. The 32-year old Lea is not forcing herself into things anymore, and she’s actually fucking capable and good at cleaning up well.

Reading

I have somewhat abandoned all the books I intended to read this year, but to make up for it, I’ve been enjoying reading entries from fellow Pinoy Substack writers! These are some of my favorite pieces lately:

You are special…and the corporate world convinces you otherwise. by This is a piece that spoke deeply to my soul. As someone who has spent around a decade trying to chase her worth through corporate achievements and KPIs after being told “no” way too many times, I’ve come to realize that my worth as a person goes beyond those metrics. That overcompensating to get these corporate achievements will never take back the rest that I need, as well as the time that I have with my loved ones.

The Case for Liking, Not Loving, Your Job by

One of my biggest sources when it comes to healing my relationship with work is . It’s a newsletter that I’ve followed for years, and it has been an eye-opening resource on how systems and cultures in corporate are filled with so much nonsense, and how we can take steps back in reassessing our relationship with work. This piece has been a reminder of why I’m working and how I need to detach my self-worth from every outcome or process involving my day job in advertising. Since then, I’ve seen my advertising job as a gateway to get on all the side quests that make my life richer, not be an outsider to my own. I still like it for the learnings, the skill-building, and the occasional free products though.

In Praise of the Solid 7 by

Bookmarking this article by Toni Potenciano for food recommendations. And yes, the Landmark Food Court in Makati is goated. Where can I get Baliwag Lechon Manok or high quantities of French Baker’s chocolate muffins no less? Also, I should make my Solid 7 list of my favorite restaurants or food spots in the near future.

When everyone is an influencer, no one has influence by

I’ve been a fan of Angel’s writing since the pandemic, and this article on Girl Makes World has made me think deeply about my own relationship with content creation and the little phase I had in my life about wanting to become an influencer. While the art of content creation has become more accessible thanks to the rise of affiliate marketing, influencing has become more of a money grab than anything. I miss the days where we’re allowed to build a decent POV, instead of being compliant with trends and shilling whatever is available.

Eating

Now that I’m working again at BGC, there’s an abundance of restaurants and food spots everywhere I go. I’m glad to be close to a St. Marc and a Pizza Telefono branch once again, so I might go there if I get the chance to work from the office.

Anyway, here are my favorite places for food and coffee whenever I pass by BGC:

• The Muji cafe at SM Aura or High Street Central for salt bread and cafe lattes. Their matcha latte is on the sweeter side, so I would recommend it if you want a more dessert-oriented matcha latte.

• Kodawari at SM Aura always hits the spot for me. My favorite things to order there are the chicken karaage and the gyudon, as well as the crispy potatoes.

• Cooper’s Coffee has a branch in High Street Central, so I’m happy to have one of my favorite matcha lattes within reach.

• There’s Molly’s Donuts at BGC High Street Central and they make my favorite donuts. They’re not too sweet and the flavors are well-thought-out.

• I recently tried out Book and Cook inside the Fully Booked BGC High Street branch and their beef stroganoff was actually very delicious. I want to recreate it for fun. But then again, maybe I could do with a beef cut that’s quicker to cook? We’ll see.

Playing

Ever since I got my new iPhone 16e, I’ve been playing Pokemon Go almost every day. My buddy right now is a Blissey, but I’ve used a Fidough for as long as I can remember. I’m still not into a lot of the battles or raids, but I do enjoy collecting and evolving them. It’s also a fun app to get your steps in and explore the places you’re in.

As for the stuff that I’ve been listening and watching lately, I’ve been revisiting Rachel Nguyen’s old vlogs, specifically her The Art of Loneliness vlog series. This vlog series has served as a reminder for me to spend more time with my own company and try out a solo adventure. As someone who’s on a healing journey and trying to embrace her autonomy more fully, these vlogs felt healing and fascinating.

I’ve also started watching Cherry Magic, specifically the English dub. I’m taking this show one episode at a time.

As for my favorite albums and songs at the moment, I’ve been listening to the new Dino/Picheolin EP non-stop, as well as some old bops from Super Junior. “Sexy, Free, and Single” has officially become my favorite title track from K-Pop’s uncs.

“Party Rock Rock” is such a fun song for walking and vibing. I listen to it whenever I do my long walks.

Another show that I’ve been enjoying is My Adventures with Superman. TikTok made me do it. Just like Cherry Magic, I’m taking this one episode at a time.

Obsessing

Obsessed with the Dino/Picheolin EP. It’s very Bluey-coded and it’s just an instant mood-booster. I also admire Dino’s guts and creativity for experimenting with trot and 90s pop music in a time where people are expecting him to do something else. Also, his Picheolin alter-ego is just so fun to watch.

Aside from this EP, my obsessions still remain pretty consistent like the last month, but here are some additions in that list:

• Garbanzos on corned beef

• Habiter for fashion inspiration

• Bath and Body Works’ If You Musk (which is sadly discontinued)

• Making pasta

Recommending

• Listening to EMDR/Trauma Healing playlists on YouTube as your background music for sleeping

• This specific cardigan from Muji. It’s a recent buy, but I see it as one of my go-tos during cooler climates. It’s a lot less overstimulating than my Gap one, but both cardigans are cozy and warm.

• Getting back on journaling and using my planner for fleshing out my thoughts and plotting out whatever plans I have in mind.

Treating

My birthday’s coming soon, and I ended up treating myself a lot over the past couple of weeks. I gave my wardrobe some upgrades and I got a bunch of pieces that I know will get a lot of wear. It’s also giving me a reason to be creative with how I dress up and present myself, on top of my current pieces.

I also got myself some items from the Miniteen pop-up too, which brought a smile to my face. I miss Seventeen.

But material things aside, being on Substack and seeing fellow Pinoys on this space has been a big treat and joy for my writing. I feel a lot less self-conscious with my writing, and I’m looking forward to meeting more Pinoy writers here.

Isa sa mga unang halimbawa ng epekto ng pretty privilege sa aking buhay ay ang pag-discriminate at pag-bully sa akin noong grade school ako dahil sa aking itsura at pagiging weirdo noong bata ako. Dahil kulot ang aking buhok, madali akong madumihan, at hindi ako maputi, para bang ang tingin ng mga tao sa akin ay para bang ako si Kiray o yung mga batang babae na morena at hindi nag-aayos na pinagtatawanan lagi sa TV o sa pelikula. Sa grupo namin sa school bus, parang halos ako yung pinagtatawanan at hindi sinasama sa usapang pagiging cute o maganda. Sa usaping iyon, laging kinocompliment ang pagiging maganda ng dalawa kong childhood friends, habang ako, napagsasabihan na “Ay, hindi ka kasama dito kasi panget ka, parang kinukuto ka, at mataba.” Hindi ganon yung exact words, pero ganun yung implicit message ng isa kong busmate na higher batch na nambully sa akin. Sa kabilang banda, yung dalawa kong kaibigan ay mas pinupuri at mas sinasali sa mga ganap dahil sila ay “mas maayos at maganda…at hindi weird.”

Naniniwala ako na “more is caught than taught” when it comes to building one’s habits, behaviors, and values. Mas natututo tayo sa mga behaviors ng mga tao, kaysa sa mga pangaral nila. Halimbawa, kapag ang magulang ay sanay mag-amok in public sa bawat maliit na inconvenience na na-eencounter nila, masasabi ng mga anak na ang practice na ito ay tama, kahit eto ay objectively na mali. Dahil nga naging normalized na ang mean girl behavior ng mga ate sa school bus namin, eto na yung nakasanayan. Wala halos isang linggo kung saan may hindi ipipintas ang aking mga kaibigan tungkol sa aking itsura at hygiene. Na para bang sila ay perpekto, dahil may mga nagtuturo sa kanila nito ng maayos at mas madaling i-access ang pagiging isang babae—mga pribilehiyo na ako’y wala, dahil nga namatay si Mommy noong grade 3 ako. Noong mga panahon na iyon, halos imposible na makumbinsi si Daddy na ako’y magparebond ng buhok o magpaganda sa labas ng mga school events dati. May elemento ng kahihiyan para mag-paalam at mag-participate sa mga “girly school activities.” Mas focused siya na makatapos kami ng pag-aaral at palawakin ang aming kaalaman sa mga bagay-bagay. Kaysa sa magparebond at mag-shopping sa Orange Juice or Topshop buwan-buwan para sa bagong damit, binibilhan ako ni Daddy ng mga libro o magasin, o i-eenroll niya ako sa mga tutorial classes, o luluwas na lang kami sa ibang bansa tuwing bakasyon. Laging sinasabi ni Daddy sa akin na huwag daw ako mag-focus sa aking panlabas na anyo, dahil lahat naman tayo tatanda at papangit at one point. Tama naman siya, pero sabi ko nga lagi, “looks are not everything, but they count for something.” Looking and feeling good can get you a few steps ahead, ika nga.

Dahil nga ako ay considered na “pangit,” hindi ko naranasan ang pretty privilege na natamo ng mga childhood friends ko. Sila ay halos malaya na pwedeng makapagsabi ng mga unhinged mean comments tungkol sa itsura at hygiene ng mga ibang tao na minsan ay ginagawa pang nakakainsultong joke na para bang walang consequences. Pwede nila i-express ang kanilang disgust o dislike sa akin under the guise of care. Kapag ako naman gumawa ng mga bagay na iyon, para bang pwede na ako ilagay sa impeachment trial or sa isang tribunal dahil nasabi ko lang yung mga comments na yun. Hindi lang naman sa mga karanasan ko noong pagkabata na nag-ooccur ang mga patterns na ito. Tignan niyo si Sophie Cunningham a.k.a. MAGA Barbie. Lumabas ang kanyang kontrobersiyal na opinion na “nirerespeto niya ang mga trans people, pero ayaw niyang makita silang nasa sports.” Ang mga comments niya online ay pinalakpakan ng mga konserbatibong grupo at indibidwal sa States, pero ang mga pahayag na ito ay nakakahamak sa mga transgender nating mga kapatid sa totoong buhay at inuuphold ang kapahamakan ng sistemang patriyarkal. Kaya ganoon lang ang perception sa kanyang mga opinyon ay dahil maganda siya. Isa pang halimbawa ng pretty privilege? Sina Robin Padilla at Bong Revilla. Napaka-walang kwenta ni Robin sa Senado, habang si Bong Revilla ay na-acquit na naman sa malversation charges niya. Sila ay mga senador na sobrang problematic (ang problematic ay napakabait pa na description) at hindi deserving sa kanilang mga posisyon, pero binoto sila ng masa dahil sila ay sikat at mga pogi. Mga artista din sila.

May dalawang points ako dito: natatago ng pretty privilege ang tunay na baho ng mga tao, at hindi malaya ang mga “pangit” na tao na ihayag ang tunay nilang ugali o saloobin, pati rin ang karapatan na i-advocate ang mga sarili nila. Noong isang linggo, nag-push back ako sa mga comments ng mga tao sa aking Zendaya makeup look sa Threads kung saan binigyan ako ng unsolicited comments tungkol sa aking kilay, kung saan kailangan ko ito ayusin. Microshading and the works. Mind you, ang pag-ayos ng kilay ay hindi isang 10-second job para mabago ito. Eto ang isang reply sa pag-push back ko, kung saan sinabihan ko yung isang commenter na sana hindi niya ma-ahit yung kalahati ng kilay niya by accident (in a sassy and sarcastic tone):

Na para bang bawal maging sassy at mag-push back sa unsolicited beauty advice kasi “pangit” ka?!

Sa tingin ko, kailangan natin i-reject ang “objective” na approach sa beauty at pretty privilege sa bawat aspeto ng buhay natin. I-embrace natin ang pagiging makalat at pagiging imperfect sa ating pagkatao, at tanggapin din natin ang ating sarili. Ayon sa mga eksperto, i-embrace din natin ang body neutrality, kung saan ang perspektibo natin sa ating katawan at itsura ay isang vessel para magawa natin ang gusto nating gawin sa ating mga buhay.

Personally, work-in-progress lahat ng ito sa akin, pero eto lang masasabi ko: huwag niyong ilugar ang sarili niyo sa iyong “ganda,” pero ilugar niyo sa mga values niyo.

Anyway, sa totoo lang, cute ako noong bata ako. Eto yung proof:

Cute pa rin naman ako kahit malapit na ako maging 32. (Oo, malapit na birthday ko at maingay akong Leo, so pagbigyan niyo na):

Next time uli,
Lea

Two weeks ago, I left my job of 3 years and decided to take a few weeks off from doing any work-related task.

(Update: This break has been cut short because I just started my new job today)

This workplace was a place that I held so much love and gratitude for. I had mentors and teammates that looked out for me. Ironically, it was also the place where I had most access to my humanity, where I learned to build an identity outside writing and editing copy. I was at my most active during my time there. I rekindled my love for reading. I enjoyed traveling. However, all things must come to an end. I realized that it was time for me to go my own way and figure out what’s next. Meaning, it was time for me to rethink my next steps in my career and in my life. At one point, I went back to the age-old question: What is the career that I want for myself?

Even though I’ve considered writing as a calling and as a life-saving force for years, I know that I have more to do with this skill of mine. Career-wise, I could be a better journalist or strategist, for all I know. But I learned to be open about the possibilities and decided to /properly/ decenter work from my life for the first time.

Anyway, here’s a list of the things that I did during this break:

Played with makeup and learned how to do my makeup better

I’ve always been a beauty girl. As I’ve mentioned here a few times, it’s what built my career. It’s one of those examples in life where I get to use my special interest for something good. But at the same time, it’s also a life-saving force for me.

One of the more expected results of this special interest is my massive makeup collection. Although it’s not as big as most mainstream influencers, it’s still pretty big for a regular consumer. To use them up responsibly, I’ve been mixing up my lipsticks and blushes to figure out new combinations. It’s nothing new, but I’m having fun. Not to mention, playing color mixer does scratch the creative itch that I’ve been missing.

Aside from playing with my products, I’ve been also figuring out different techniques and application methods to experiment with my looks.

Doing my makeup and exploring my collection has been helpful in tapping the creativity that I’ve lost inside me and I hope this practice slowly brings it back.

Honed my cooking skills, enjoyed my comfort meals, and tried to expand my palate

Another space where I try to practice creativity is through food. I grew up seeing my parents cook (especially my late mother) and I took up Foods classes throughout high school. Not to mention, the pandemic turned me into our household’s unofficial cook.

Since then, I’ve practiced cooking many of my go-to meals and have learned to expand my repertoire. So far, it’s been fun and challenging to experiment with different dishes at home. Some days are good, some days are terrible.

Outside of cooking though, I’ve been eating out a lot during this work break. Last month, I ate pho for the first time and liked it a lot. I’ve also tried new places for coffee and matcha. I also tried Chagee for the first time and got their special Apple English Breakfast milk tea, which was delightful.

Aside from trying out new dishes, I’ve also been going back to my go-to meals from my go-to spots. Eating out is part of my creative process, since good, comforting meals can give me a jolt of inspiration.

Treated myself to nice things

Self-explanatory, but I got to upgrade parts of my wardrobe and I replaced my iPhone 11 with an Phone 16e. It’s fun, but I’m treading carefully.

Started watching new shows and films

One of my goals for this break was to slow down and watch the things that I’ve been meaning to watch. During this break, I finally got to watch Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey, which was the first-ever Nolan film that I’ve watched, as well as shows like My Adventures With Superman and Cherry Magic. I also finished the Chris Evert-Martina Navratilova documentary. I also got a 3-month Apple TV subscription that came with my phone, which also means that I have access to shows like Shrinking and Pachinko.

…I’ve also been meaning to start on Heated Rivalry too.

Spent lots of time with Berry

Not doing anything work-related has allowed me to get closer to Berry. He’s the sweetest and most joyful dog I’ve met, and it always warms my heart whenever he asks for hugs, cuddles, and headpats. He’s turning five on August 20 and I’m grateful every day for the joy and structure that he has given my life, especially after dealing with my own mental health issues. He’s one of the reasons why I have a better outlook on life now. There are days where I find myself crying out of joy because he has given me so much meaning to my own life. I could go on.

Made more personal content

If you’ve been following me on Instagram lately, I did a brief sprint of sorts where I’ve been posting content. It’s another way for me to tap into my creativity and self-expression. I have so much to say. I’m such a yapper. Maybe I can recommend something, or talk about something deep? People contain multitudes anyway.

Anyway, this break was much-needed. It made me really lean in to the importance of a life outside of work. That I’m Lea beyond her job title, workplace, and income bracket. While it’s bittersweet to be back at work for such a short notice, I’m taking this break with me as a reminder to use work as my means to build a life that I don’t hate. It made me take my first steps back into my creative side. That maybe I’m meant to live a creative life.

Oh, this break was also a reminder for me that I’m an adult with autonomy and I can enjoy life!

More than my career, my love for beauty and fashion continues to play a part in building the self-esteem that was crushed into nothingness during my younger years. In a span of 13 years, I went from feeling embarrassed about my selfies to actually posting them without guilt. I wear sleeveless tops and dresses to rebel against the guilt-tripping I’ve received as a teenager towards my body. As I’ve said numerous times, looks are not everything, but they count for something sometimes.

Going back to the Zendaya makeup look post, the “twin” joke was actually an inside joke that I have with some friends. Not to mention, I’m a fan of her style, personality, and body of work. She’s also one of those female celebrities that made me appreciate my own features.

So when I made the choice to post this look on my Threads account, I got a mixed bag of comments. Some were encouraging, others were backhanded, and the rest were just mean-spirited.

Posting this look gave me a realization that the platform has become a breeding ground of “hobbyless behavior,” which is a German insult describing a series of vile behaviors online conducted by people who have way too much free time. In the platform, I’ve encountered a series of vile comments thrown at me, ranging from being cursed and told that “I hope you have an Autistic child with high support needs” for questioning the validity of stem cell treatments to “cure” Autism, to getting vile comments about my looks and being told to get Ozempic or Tirze to lose weight, or even questioning how our political beliefs don’t always align with our personal values. God forbid a girl question existing social beliefs and enjoy her own efforts in playing with makeup. I also happen to experience a lot of demand avoidance, so receiving unsolicited advice from strangers online feels like a threat to my autonomy. Outside of my own experience, I’ve seen how others would engage in snarky vagueposting or just post harmful takes on issues surrounding neurodiversity and LGBTQIA+ rights that are seemingly written by ChatGPT.

At the end of the day, the Internet will always have people who have way too much time and mobile data to spread hate and harm. But the Internet will always be a space for me to share the fun parts of my life, whether it’s trying out a fun makeup look or a cool outfit, trying a real hobby, and sharing thoughts that will ruffle your internalized biases. Full offense, but I shall enjoy myself and enjoy the hobbies and relationships that give meaning to my life. Maybe some of you need to try it too.

I’ve always been a persistent person.

I don’t know if this persistence was born out of my ADHD-fueled RSD, but all the “nos” I’ve received in my life served as my fuel to keep going. But then again, there’s this saying that other windows will open if the doors you’re knocking have closed down.

In no particular order, here’s how I’ve tried to persist over the years.

Even though I gave up writing for 5 years, I still made small attempts to write. My old blog is a reflection of that.

When I got rejected by a former magazine editor-turned-content creator for an editorial internship 12 years ago, it became my fuel to keep going. To take writing more seriously. I guess this newsletter (and my portfolio) are evidence of that growth.

When my teachers thought that I wouldn’t survive high school or college due to my ADHD-related behavioral problems and academic issues, I worked (and masked) my butt off to get good grades and improve my “behavioral problems” to make it to a good university for college. But most importantly, I learned to have some belief in my own abilities, even if it’s hard.

As I reached my thirties, I learned to let my weirdness and neurodivergence bloom fully. And I’m learning to enjoy things as they come. I’m allowing myself to become a proper sports fan. That my love for the New York Knicks is similar to my love for Seventeen. I’m learning to accept that my need for alone time is just as important as my need for community. That I have safe foods I can turn too, even if I’m a whole-ass foodie. Or that I can enjoy bacon-flavored donuts.

I continue to persist with running. Persistence and perseverance go hand-in-hand, right?

Anyway, there’s beauty in persistence. It’s better to try hard than not trying at all.

Until the next brain dump,
Lea

Henlo fwens,

I’m back wif another takeovew at my mami’s Substack. In case u r stranger, my name is Berry. But you can call me Bewwy Liit.

It’s been almost five years since I last made yappity yaps on this space. I’m tuwning 5 years old. But I still act like a baby. My wowo Mau babies me plenti.

I’m not smol puppy anymow. I am big fow a Pomewanian. My mami tink I’m Pom Pom fwom dis silly but pwofound dog show called Bloofy . But I’m owange. Not comtom ball. My mami like dat Bloofy show. But she like NBA and twack and field.

My favowit things are slippows, kamotmots, Wowo, and fwoots like pears and epols. I like going to gwoomows and the dogtor. I also like walking like a piglet.

I miss Kuya Puppert but aunty gib me baby sistow cousin named Muffin, or Mufferina Ballerina Lalapurina. Muffin is still baby. She afwaidy wen I cut my hair.

My mami says I’m ADHD dog. But my mami is AuDHD. She lyk to mix up tings but she makes shoor that me and Muffin eat thwee times a day. Wen mami get the sads, I make her laff. She tink I’m aligoogoogaga because I shout at her wen she leave me wif Muffin at home. Muffin is not well-behaved. She eat my fud. She is vewwy hungwy always.

I love my mami. She cawwy and cuddle me evewy day. She gib me scwitchy scwitch and plenti toys. She tells me to make fwen so I twy to make fwen even if Wowo tinks I gib mami a hawd time.

My mami would say that I’m her hewo. I’m just smol chubby owange dog. But appawently, I make her heppi.

I lab my mami a lot and I hope she is always heppi and healthy. She is beautypoo and smawt and kind.

One of the most obvious signs that I was autistic was my deep lack of interest in dating. Sure, I had long-standing crushes and can express a desire for wanting love and intimacy, but I cannot imagine myself going on a series of sustained dates with someone. Sayang ang pera. Sayang ang time at energy. Rather than dealing with people that are not right for me, I would use that time to sit with my own boredom or find something that’s interesting.

Aside from this discomfort, I’ve also realized that I’m deeply afraid of losing my identity in a romantic relationship and putting myself in a position of embarrassment over liking someone who actually doesn’t have feelings for me. Believe me, I was in that position fourteen years ago. I had this deep infatuation with a person who actually bullied and ridiculed me throughout college. It was worse than a humiliation ritual. My childhood friends were right: being desperate over someone’s romantic attention is not worth it. I was eighteen and a few years out of a decade at an all-girls school and finding a boy that I could like was a quest that I thought was a rite of passage. It wasn’t it.

Since then, I’ve made dating the lowest of my priorities. The crushes are there, but they’re just built to exist for moments of joy. After all, my dad never remarried after my mom died, so what’s the point of spending time with a person that’s not right for you?

But don’t get me wrong, my brief adventures with the dating apps were lowkey fun. But I guess dating isn’t just a sport that I’m willing to participate in. At least for now and in the foreseeable future.

I’ve been thinking about the perfect way to describe my relationship with my father. But just like any father-daughter relationship, I would describe it as succinctly as, “imperfect, but deeply rooted in love and care.”

But before I write a deep dive of sorts about our relationship, here’s a bit of lore about him. He’s the sixth out of ten children, he grew up in a barrio in Davao Oriental before finishing college in the city, and has a PhD in educational leadership. He also went to law school but never got to practice law. Outside of work, he is Berry’s favorite person, speaks 3 languages, and is the more extroverted one between him and my late mother. A lot of his friends say that I take after him, which I used to dislike as a teen. But as I’ve reached my thirties, I guess we have more similarities than differences.

Before Mommy passed away in 2003, Daddy has been the primary provider in our family. Around that time (and some years before), he was laser-focused on building his career and credibility as a professor at a business school. This meant going on business trips, spending long hours at work, and inhabiting the Professor persona beyond work hours. It also meant saying “yes” to whatever came his way in the workplace, be it assisting a higher-ranked professor, or taking care of errands.

Because of his deep dedication to his work, he missed out on many things related to my own growth. Not to mention, our household help created this culture of fear in our household, where the dominant narrative was to fear Daddy at all costs and be on my best behavior because he was “strict” and “scary.” He was the enemy. The fear-based narrative built around him bled deeply into our own family dynamic, which proved to be challenging after my mother’s death.

He believed in my brilliance, but struggled to comprehend my daily struggles of sticking to a routine. True to his “strict professor” persona, he withheld praise and appreciation and always corrected me to do better. Complacency was his enemy, and doing things to avoid shame and embarrassment were his ways to achieve things. Not to mention, he liked being useful and worked his way up towards respect and validation by going beyond his circumstances and proving people wrong.

Unfortunately, I ended up inheriting these beliefs. For the longest time, I only believed that I was worthy if only I proved people wrong. But this is something that I am working on healing, alongside my own relationship with my father. That I’m worthy just as I am. That my failures and successes do not have to diminish my overall worth. Deep in my heart, I know that my dad has always thought of me as worthy, even if he struggled to express it and was consumed by his own frustrations. Our parents are humans too, capable of being deeply flawed, but also capable of deep love.

However, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that my Dad wasn’t the enemy. His methods of disciplining me and bringing out my grit were originally intended to build a growth mindset inside me, but they were actually products of his own anxieties. He came from practically nothing to become the person that he is now, and the pressures that he felt gave him coping mechanisms and methods that were harsh now. He was just living life in the best way that he knew at that time.

Despite everything, he’s provided me and my younger sibling a life that allowed us to experience the world with more fullness and audacity. Over time, he has also grown to become more loving and present in our lives. After he learned about my mental health struggles, he has supported me with taking care of my basic needs until I am able to do so. He has been influential in developing my curiosity about cooking and traveling, and has taught me to speak up and advocate for myself in spaces that refuse to make space for me. When I was twelve, he actually spoke to my childhood guidance counselor about my experiences with bullying, and it was one of those first signs where he really showed up for me. In college, he would drive me at the crack of dawn every Monday morning to Quezon City from Paranaque just so I can arrive to my classes on time and get to his workplace in Makati early.

If there are any key takeaways from this, my Dad continued to love us by showing up for us, even if his methods were deeply imperfect. He made sure that I felt comfortable and safe, even if my nervous system was deeply plagued with a lot of trauma, shame, and fear. He helped me grow my curiosity about the world, developed my persistence, and he also taught me to be brave in ways that I couldn’t imagine.

Thank you, Dad.

But first, I want to talk about the power of a list. Especially as someone who is neurodivergent, lists are a way for me to establish a sense of order in my life.

Anyway, here’s a list of things that have brought me joy lately.

Sports

I’m more updated with sports now than with K-pop, so that has been bringing me joy and stress at the same time (but the joy part has a lot more weight).

1. I’m VERY happy that the New York Knicks won. As I’ve said here so many times, I grew up being a Boston Celtics girly for the vibe, but my emotional attachment to this team was rapid and somewhat all-consuming. Also, Josh Hart appeared in one of my recent dreams. And I’m more than happy to see OG Anunoby smile and Mikal Bridges get drunk out of joy!

2. The outdoor track & field season is alive and well and Pinoy pride EJ Obiena seems to be back in fighting form.

3. Going back to the Knicks again, I’m enjoying the TikTok edits inspired by Hamilton. I love Hamilton and I wished that we watched it during my visit to New York eight years ago.

My ongoing mental health journey

I’ve never been this locked in with my mental health journey ever since I started taking it seriously five years ago. To be honest, my mental health journey has been filled with ups and downs, as well as lots of trial and error.

However, in the midst of all of this, I’m grateful that I am able to avail mental health support that’s currently suited to my needs. Here’s what’s on my plate:

1. EMDR

   I only started EMDR therapy last week and it has been an adventure. But the scary kind. You’re being pulled back to a place where you were harmed and traumatized, and then you’re being guided to a place of safety. It feels like you’re in a trust walk.

   
   I’m only two sessions in, but I know that doing this will bring more progress with my mental health.
   

2. Brintellix, Round 2
   After three years, I finally went back on Brintellix. Unlike my previous experience with it five years ago, I think I am more emotionally and cognitively ready to get back on getting medicated.
   
   Speaking of getting medicated, one of the reasons why I balked with this decision for years was due to external pressure. That external pressure led me to believe that a high-functioning, medicated version of me would be “underestimated less.” However, with this recent move, I’ve decided that getting medicated is the best decision for myself to keep me falling from the pits of helplessness and self-pity.

   
   So far, having the combination of therapy, good habits, and Brintellix are working out for me, save for heat intolerance.
   

3. Corrective Experiences
   I’ve been collecting a bunch of corrective experiences as a way for me to heal from my past traumas. You can’t heal from the things that hurt you, so you open yourself up to new spaces!
   
   In doing so, I’m starting to connect with new people again, and I’ve been trying to open myself up to new hobbies and reconnecting with old ones.
   
   I went to my first game night yesterday and it healed a part of me that I cannot really put into words, save for a newfound love for Organ Attack.
   
   Speaking of corrective experiences, I think writing consistently on this space can be counted as such.
   

4. Therapy “homework”
   One of the more unexpected gifts that taking medication has given me is having more openness and flexibility towards my therapist’s advice and homework. For some, it can be a drag, but the “homework” keeps me on track with my goals.

Anyway, I’m happy that the Knicks won in five games and I’m finding more reasons to enjoy life again.

Until the next brain dump,
Lea

Pop culture is abundant with those underdog stories, so allow me to share some of my favorites.

Seventeen

Seventeen’s origin story and journey as a K-pop juggernaut never fails to put me in awe. As a proud Carat of almost seven years, I cannot help but think about how they’ve built themselves brick by brick just to get to where they are now. From fighting over toothpaste tubes and using regular earphones as in-ears to becoming Daesang-winning acts that sell out major arenas and stadiums, saying that “I’m proud of them” is not enough to put it. But more than their material successes, I think the best gift that they’ve given to Carats is the music. Their songs are a source of comfort, joy, and grit for me. Not to mention, the boys are REALLY funny.

I can’t wait for the Pi Cheolin solo debut.

The New York Knicks

I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again: I think I’ve developed a deeper attachment to the Knicks than the Celtics. And that says a lot, given that I’ve known and liked the Celtics since high school. My dad and I like the Boston Celtics! This is a glitch in my system! I’ve struggled to be emotionally invested in a team, let alone an actual sport, but here we are, rooting for an actual sports team.

I guess the reason why I love the Knicks is because of three things: the Filipino connection, my love for New York City, and their team dynamic. Their team dynamic lowkey reminds me of Seventeen’s, and some of the players remind me of the members.

Let’s start with the Filipino connection: the team has Jordan Clarkson! Jordan Clarkson has suited up for Gilas Pilipinas across multiple international meets, and has been outspoken about expressing his Filipino heritage. But then again, the Spurs have Dylan Harper. Today’s game basically got me screaming, “UY PILIPINS!!!” on the inside, after seeing Harper and Clarkson in action.

I also happen to love New York City. It’s one of my favorite cities in the world, and to see New Yorkers unite and rally for the Knicks is always a beautiful sight to see.

Lastly, I’ve been thinking about how the Knicks’ team dynamic reminds me of Seventeen: both teams have a strong and graceful leader (S.Coups and Jalen Brunson), a bond that’s reliable and solid, and underdog stories that could yield a thousand essay entries. And as I’ve mentioned, some of the guys from the Knicks remind me of Seventeen members: Josh Hart reminds me of Jeonghan and Hoshi because they both like to play around with their teammates, while Mikal Bridges emanates the same emotional support K-pop boy vibe similar to Jun and Joshua. On the other hand, KAT (Karl-Anthony Towns) is just as expressive and as emotionally intelligent as Mingyu. As for my Knicks bias, that title goes to OG Anunoby. He reminds me so much of Wonwoo. They both share this dry, Pinoy tito-like humor, and they have this sharp aura when they’re at their element. Ugh, I sound very parasocial, but I just really want the Knicks to win.

Melissa Jefferson-Wooden and Julien Alfred

I know this part should be reserved in the track & field newsletter, but I can’t help but put this on main. Julien Alfred and Melissa Jefferson-Wooden share similar underdog stories that I can’t help but think about.

Even though Julien Alfred had her breakthrough in 2024, she was already making waves in the collegiate circuit. She was a 4-time NCAA champion and a Bowerman Award recipient during her college years at UT Austin. With her global medals at the World Indoor Championships and the Olympics, she held her own against American and Jamaican sprint superstars and brought Saint Lucia to the world stage in athletics.

Melissa, on the other hand, was someone that most athletics fans and experts overlooked early on. Yes, spectators knew she was fast, but was overshadowed by the likes of Abby Steiner and Julien Alfred in the NCAA. However, once she turned pro, she slowly built up her name as a national champion and as a standout in the 4x1 relays during the 2022 and 2023 editions of the World Championships.

In 2024, she made her breakthrough as an Olympic bronze medalist alongside Julien Alfred and Sha’Carri Richardson in the women’s 100m final. Together with Sha’Carri, she helped the USA win the gold medal in the women’s 4x100 relay.

In 2024, she made her breakthrough as an Olympic bronze medalist alongside Julien Alfred and Sha’Carri Richardson in the women’s 100m final. Together with Sha’Carri, she helped the USA win the gold medal in the women’s 4x100 relay.

Last year was a different story altogether. When Melissa started her season at Grand Slam Track and kept winning most of her 100/200 races, people started to notice her talent more. But what made things explode was her win at last year’s Prefontaine Classic, where she beat Julien in a close race. She went undefeated in the 100m, and wrapped up her season with the sprint triple at the World Championships in Tokyo.

This reel basically shows off her entire rise, at least from Diamond League’s POV:

On embracing an underdog mindset

I’ve always tried to embrace a bit of an underdog mindset in everything that I do. Being neurodivergent in a world that’s not accommodating has made a lot of things harder (and disabling) for me, but it hasn’t really stopped me from pursuing the things that I like, be it writing, running, or even painting. Not to mention, this mindset has also pushed me to where I am now (or at least a good part of it).

Having that mindset also gives me a better grasp of the values that I want to practice in my life, such as patience, empathy, and kindness. More often than not, I find myself rooting for people or teams who have a chip on their shoulder and needed to prove themselves.

However, despite the values that this mindset carries, I cannot help but think about its drawbacks on my own mental and emotional health, such as doing things with a need to prove over doing things for my own enjoyment and curiosity.

But we have a lifetime to figure this out. And I guess it starts with learning to root for your own success.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little roundup.

Knicks in six,
Lea

TW: internalized ableism, bullying, lookism

When I was a sophomore in high school, my personality development teacher told us about her first impressions about some of us in class. As for her impression of me, she said that “I looked autistic,” then she walked back to tell me that “I looked like a nice person.” But being an overthinker, I thought about multiple interpretations as to why she told me that “I looked autistic,” with the clearest ones being me looking unkempt, dowdy, and unable to inhabit the tenets of a teenage girl’s way of attaining self-care, or just looking straight-up ridiculous with poorly-matched outfits during events or not being able to show up to school in a polished and disciplined way. Using context clues, the use of “auti” as a slur in my all-girls Catholic school meant that you’re “auti” if your hobbies, fashion sense, communication style, or overall existence meant that you’re weird to the point of being painfully annoying and cringe. But this was in the 2000s and the early 2010s. Is it because I struggle to follow good manners because I liked combing my hair in public? I oftentimes think that I felt like a fish out of water, a cavegirl, or someone as cringey as Kween Yasmin at that time.

As much as I wanted to comply with the unspoken rules of proper teenage girlhood at that time, I thought about my own reality, as well as the coping mechanisms that I used to survive. I grew up in a single-parent household with a relatively privileged lifestyle, but managing my ADHD was out of the question because I was a “smart girl.” To cope with my dad’s own survival responses, I had to present myself as someone who is as low-maintenance as possible, where I have to pretend that my ADHD was “cured,” accept my social struggles as a series of character failings unbecoming of an alumna in a prominent, semi-progressive Catholic all-girls school, and take his comparisons of me to other kids as a way to build grit for myself. But that led to decades of living in shame and self-loathing.

Speaking of Kween Yasmin, she’s one of those personalities forcing me to confront my internalized ableism. If you do not know her, she’s gone viral for the most random things: her spoken poetry, her confusing love story, and her singing. Not to mention, there’s been so much speculation about her online being “on the spectrum,” which has been harmful. As someone who is constantly trying to accept and love my own neurodivergent brain, I have this need to understand and empathize with her own way of doing things, while I also have this desire to fight the way that people box autistic people with how they present themselves. It pains me to see these stereotypes happen in real time.

In this case, that desire looks like being able to show up as normally as possible. That having ADHD and/or Autism does not make me a troglodyte in society. That AuDHD girls can dress up like their closet is from The Row and not dress up like they’re to be laughed at. That AuDHD girls like me can command respect and build discipline like they’re Emily Weiss or those go-getters with thorough routines and schedules on Instagram, according to their Day In My Life vlogs. Deep down though, my desire to be as pretty and as neurotypical as possible can also be rooted in my envy towards the girls who bullied me: they were allowed to be mean with little to no remorse, while my need to defend myself and “act mean” was met with so much backlash that you could compare it to stoning. Heck, even the act of me farting during a prayer session was cringe or forgetting to use deodorant would warrant years of social rejection and accusations of me being a troglodyte who cannot take care of herself (News flash: being autistic makes it hard for me to take care of myself).

Despite everything, Kween Yasmin continues to live life on her own terms and has that level of determination and work ethic that I cannot help but be inspired by. People on the internet may always give her reasons to give up, but she’s really persistent and earns REALLY good money just by being herself, so what’s the point of being deeply self-conscious? I’ve come to realize that I am just as persistent as her, which led me to where I am now.

But as I mention these things, I’ve come to realize that my desire for acceptance and assimilation in the normal sense is just me further driving myself to the pits of shame and self-loathing. The more I spend my time and my hard-earned money curating parts of my outer life to be as normal and as sleek as possible, the more my inner life feels uninteresting. I used to be the girl who enjoyed reading books and talking about her favorite things with so much enthusiasm, but I’ve just turned into someone who is remarkably boring and dumb—just as how one former acquaintance from my freshman year of college accused me as such. But speaking in absolutes has left me feeling stuck and helpless.

I know looking and feeling hot is not everything, but it counts for something. When I try to look hot and feel good about the effort that I put into myself, I usually have this end goal in mind to prove the people wrong that I’m not some ugly troglodyte who cannot show up for herself. Looking hot and put together shows that I can be disciplined, which was a trait that people found that I lacked. As a result, my relationship with discipline was shrouded by fear and shame, instead of joy. You know, the mindset where you’re taught that building discipline comes with misery, just like how some diet and workout programs are. Or that discipline is used as a warning against perceived threats. But why are we fearing complacency or slowing down, anyway? Or conflating them?

”You have to be disciplined enough so that other people wouldn’t underestimate you” was a belief that I tried to internalize in my head, yet my body continues to reject. But then again, there’s this nagging determination that I have to defy various ADHD and Autism-related statistics published out there, like premature deaths, financial strain (which I personally experienced), academic struggles, and even criminal activities. These kinds of statistics would definitely put my dad in an anxious state. Just like many parents, my dad wanted the best for me, but his methods of bringing out the best in me created this version of myself that was living in defense mode, where I feel like I have to defend my existence every single day as if I was committing the crime of merely existing, which was a comment that a peer from college told me fifteen years ago and is a belief that I actively correct every single day.

But why do I want to get hot anyway? What does hotness have to do with my journey of accepting and loving my neurodivergent brain? Is it because of the belief that being hot is the only way that neurodivergent people can survive in a largely neurotypical world? What does being hot mean for a loud, neurodivergent person like me anyway? How can I reconcile my love for neutral clothing and clean girl beauty with my quest to seek safety in my own body and existence as a neurodivergent woman?

I recently asked what it meant to show up as a Capricorn rising in this world. I know the late, great Zenaida Seva advised her viewers that astrology is just a mere guide in how we navigate our lives. We still have the free will to shape it. As someone interested in astrology and tarot, my understanding of being a Capricorn rising is that I’m expected to be disciplined and structured in my public life, whether it’s through my routines, my work persona, or my own wardrobe. A couple of months back, someone asked me if my need for external validation was because of my Leo-ness or my ADHD and this question pissed me off because it carried the implication that we have to be defined by the traits of our astrological placements, such as Leos being self-centered and bold, or Capricorns being highly disciplined and structured. I’m a Capricorn rising and the only parts that I can identify with in that placement are my love for neutral-colored clothing and my persistence. For the most part, I’ve spent years deep in the trenches of my learned helplessness, hoping to be saved and supported by someone. Maybe my learned helplessness stems from years of not being advocated for and supported that respects my humanity? Oftentimes, I’m exposed to the kind of support where people treat me as a self-improvement project, where I feel infantilized and suffocated, leaving me with the feeling of unable to trust myself with anything.

Now, as an attempt to answer these questions, I think the pursuit of being hot is actually my pursuit in self-trust. It’s learning to make peace with how my body looks and making it stronger with every walk or run. It’s learning how to cook nourishing meals and eating for comfort on low-energy days. It’s making peace with my wavy 2C-3A hair, my button nose, and not resorting to my mean inner voice and calling myself ugly every chance I get. It can be in the form of validating the hard work that I put in my newsletters and recognizing that I can do better with my writing at the same time. It can also mean showing up in the little routines that add structure to my day, such as taking care of Berry or watering my plants.

Maybe these things are going to shape this pursuit. Maybe hotness is actually a mindset to inhabit, not a means to gain external validation.

Anyway, here’s to being hot.

I started reading ‘Yesteryear’ a few days ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m around roughly 30 percent in, but it’s such a juicy read so far.

You have Natalie, the tradwife Christian influencer living a perfectly curated life in rural Idaho with her handsome husband and five children (going on six). One day, she wakes up in a strange part of town and realizes that everything is not quite what it seemed. That’s what I’m going to say for now.

My impression of it so far is that it felt like reading the diary of your worst bully from high school, peppered by comments from r/ChikaPH or some snark subreddit out there. It’s as if I entered the mind of my former bully, where she has made a list of savage remarks about my own experiences, while putting herself on a pedestal.

Anyway, I need to keep going with this.

They say that your house is a reflection of your interior life. I don’t know who’s the exact person I can attribute this quote to, but whoever you are, thanks for giving me a reason to reflect about my life at 3 o’clock in the morning.

Speaking of houses, I was tasked to housesit my dad’s apartment last Saturday in Ortigas. My dad’s out of town for a few weeks and he needed someone to watch over his apartment while he’s away. He’s been living there half the time, and it has done wonders for him. Not to mention, Pasig City is much more progressive than Parañaque (or Paranyucky, as what my mutual Noelle and I have discussed). The city is walkable and accessible to kids, pets, disabled folks, and senior citizens. Living in Parañaque, on the other hand, is a strugglebus saga. Walking from Annex 41 to Dona Soledad and back feels like playing Temple Run on hard mode. The sidewalks are cramped, and you’re constantly dealing with a barrage of cars entering and exiting during your walk. Not to mention, the buildings are inaccessible. Our local health center has the steepest set of stairs that people have to walk in and out of just so they can avail of consultations or services from our community doctors, which can be challenging to disabled people and senior citizens. I could go on, but this is actually a diary of what happened during my housesitting adventure two days ago.

I started my day commuting from our house in Paranaque to Pasig City. For my foreign readers, commuting in our local context means taking public transportation to get from point A to point B and not driving from one city to the next. Since the average travel time from Paranaque to Pasig takes at least 90 minutes on a Saturday (accounting for waiting times, multiple transport methods, and traffic), I decided to expedite things a bit and rode a Move It (a motorcycle taxi) from my house to the Magallanes MRT station in Makati City. The ride took around 20 minutes and I paid around P120 for it, which is not bad, but not good either. I was also trying to beat the heat, hoping to walk or run with ease once I reached Pasig City, so the Move It was the best option I had.

Once I arrived at the Magallanes MRT, I immediately paid for my MRT ticket using my debit card. I didn’t need to line up for my own ticket anymore, which could eat up some time. I’m glad that the MRT is 50% off on weekends, which means that I can go from Magallanes to Pasig for just P10 (and back). I went down at the Shaw Boulevard station, which gave me ample time (and distance) to walk. I then followed a bunch of runners going to Greenfield District, which is this unofficial haven of sorts for foodies and fitness enthusiasts. In that place, you can find matcha cafes, restaurants, BPO offices, and climbing gyms. Not to mention, the roads are spacious and fit for walking. I decided to explore the place before heading to my dad’s condo in Ortigas. I had an easy walk and took my time reading Mary Cain’s memoir on the Audible app on my phone. The book was a hard read, especially when you lived from a place of trauma and fear. I kept walking for the next hour, until I arrived at Emerald Avenue in Ortigas, which was a street away from my dad’s condo building.

On weekends, Emerald Avenue is usually closed to motorists so that visitors and Pasig residents can walk, run, or bike freely. Not to mention, there is also a street market inside Emerald, where fruit and food vendors can sell their items. The neighborhood in Ortigas has changed a lot ever since I last lived there in early 2023, but some places remain the same. The Coffee Bean branch inside Ortigas Park is now closed. The old Nissan car dealership nearby now houses a cafe and an EV dealership. Pasig City now hosts free bike workshops. I used to pay P200 an hour to ride one. Despite everything, I can still access at least 4 Starbucks branches from my dad’s apartment, and the Korean groceries nearby are still open. The loan collection office in front of my dad’s apartment is gone. There’s a new cafe nearby, which I haven’t memorized yet. The magazine shop nearby is still there.

The minute I arrived at my Dad’s condominium building, familiar feelings came inside me. I felt both confident and sad at the same time. I remember how this place planted the seeds of my growth post-depression diagnosis. It was where I learned to show up for myself: I learned how to cook, clean, and sit through my own demand avoidance. But at the same time, I also felt a wave of sadness, since I experienced bouts of homesickness and irrational fears. As for the building itself, it has experienced a series of makeovers that I feel satisfied with. The condominium lobby has their own aircon unit. The pool and the gym are apparently better than ever. There are new establishments on the ground floor, like a new bakery. There are lockers for your Grab orders. Mobile signal has vastly improved. It’s still not 100%, but it’s better than how it was, where I had to force myself to go to the Coffee Bean next door and use my mobile hotspot.

When I entered my Dad’s apartment at around 9 a.m., the house was noticeably tidy, with some quirks thrown in. Everything had its own place. He liked to maximize the space that was given to him. He dried his clothes in the bathroom, instead of going outside. His terrace was precious real estate for his plants. I guess his definition of clean wasn’t the type that was drilled on to me as a child by my fourth grade class adviser. The apartment wasn’t as nicely lit as it was before, but there was a lot of natural light coming in from his terrace, which made resting a lot more comfortable. Going back to my thesis, I could say that Dad’s apartment reflected who he is: organized, systematic, nature-loving, but easily overstimulated. He loved having space for everything and he liked having a system for his activities. Anything “unnatural” can be overstimulating for him, so he retreats to things that remind him of a simpler life, like caring for his plants. A part of me wonders if I’ll end up like him later in life, or if I’m in the process of embracing his own habits. I liked taking care of our plants at home in Parañaque, even if my childhood friends once teased me that my house resembled a forest. While there, I took the time to finish my book, water his plants, rest, and eat my baon of beef biryani from the Emerald Avenue street market. I also took my shower there post-walkies. It was refreshing, and I forgot how enjoyable it was to have a warm shower. Maybe the increase in our Meralco bill there was worth it, since hot showers can apparently take out certain snags, or “lamig” out of your body.

After my morning of housesitting, I then proceeded to go to The Podium and Robinsons Galleria for lunch, coffee, and solo time. There was a Mother’s Day weekend pop-up at the former, and I treated myself to a cup of iced Kyoto matcha latte and the much-hyped Dubai Chewy Cookie that Abby kept encouraging me to try. The matcha latte was delicious and earthy, while the Dubai Chewy Cookie exceeded my expectations. It was not sickeningly sweet at all. I guess I need to give up my close-mindedness with things, which is easier said than done for an autistic person. But then again, I remember what Doc A and EJ have told me on separate occasions: “You don’t have to approach everything as black and white. Embrace the grey areas of life.” Maybe I need to approach life like Meredith Grey then, where I have to accept that things are not always objectively wrong or right, and that there’s always nuance. Oftentimes, I enter this rigid and inflexible mindset to compensate for the supposed lack of direction that people point out about my own life. After roaming around The Podium, I headed to Robinsons Galleria for my favorite iced latte from Zus and sat for a bit. I then window-shopped at Konvy and some stores until I settled at Starbucks to attend my online ADHD support group meeting. I ended up leaving early though so I can commute back to Makati and go back to the south. When I arrived at One Ayala, I went to the grocery to buy some home supplies. I then rode the bus to Parañaque and made a final stop at SM Bicutan before going home. It was tiring, but I got a lot of movement throughout the day.

Now going back to the topic of 3 a.m. reflections, I’ve been thinking about how I need to take care of my house like how I need to take care of my own body. The clutter inside my house is a reminder of how much I’m taking my life for granted and how much external support I need to keep it in order. This also means traversing the line between operating on shame versus operating on compassion and love. I’ve talked about how much shame and fear have consumed my life. I can’t move or do things without someone shaming and yelling at me, or I have to resort to a lot of fearmongering, negative self-talk, and shaming to avoid the worst outcomes in life. Back in high school, my dad had to constantly compare me to high-performing neurotypical kids to bring out the grit in me. That I could keep up with the honor students. Or early in my career, I have to constantly scare myself against failure through stories from my senior work peers to avoid other people’s mistakes.

But just like any household, you have to be open to change to keep you feeling safe and at home with yourself. If that means rearranging different items in your room to make it more work-friendly, or being resourceful with the space that you have. Maybe change can come from approaching cleanliness with a different perspective, like decluttering old things to let go of the Lea that I once tried to be, or seeing cleanliness as a form of care instead of punishment. After all, self-care is about facing hard things too. And cleaning is always hard for me. If I face it head-on one corner at a time, then that means I’m caring for the unpalatable parts of myself too.

Reading

I haven’t gotten around to reading Sarah Hartshorne’s ANTM memoir and Raymond Carver’s Fires again, but my ADHD pulled me into reading Mary Cain’s memoir, This Is Not About Running and Belle Burden’s Strangers. I gravitated towards Mary Cain’s memoir for obvious reasons, while I got influenced into reading Strangers because of BookTok.

I finally finished reading the Mary Cain memoir. It was a painful and difficult read. Not only did it make me even more skeptical towards the methods that coaches employ to keep their athletes in tip-top shape, it also made me feel sad and enraged about how the adults in our lives can fail us, even if their intentions seem otherwise. Not to mention, with doping being a major issue in track and field, I cannot help but think about how coaches enable substance use to improve athlete performance. I’m disturbed. Despite everything, I am happy that Mary has a fairly strong support system despite what she went through. Her family seemed very loving, and it’s beyond frustrating that her former coach would be evasive and cruel towards her. I’m glad that her former coach is banned from the sport…FOREVER.

I also finished Belle Burden’s memoir, Strangers. It’s beautifully written and richly-detailed, which gave me the feeling that I was living in her world. In the process, I was constantly questioning the things happening in the memoir, like her prenup arrangement, the mistress, and her ex-husband’s callousness. It also made me think about how rich people frame struggle in their daily life.

Anyway, I missed reading. I also noticed that my preferred genre for books are memoirs! I like reading memoirs because it allows me to get to know the human condition better through the lens of influential people. Their writing also shapes my own voice as a writer, too. However, I’m slowly getting back into reading fiction too. I have so many in my TBR pile. I might get back into reading Han Kang’s Human Acts.

Eating

I recently ate at Italiannis with my family and I’m still thinking about how to recreate their four-cheese rigatoni. The truffle chips there were amazing. I like anything crunchy and salty, aside from sweets.

I also tried Caramia’s chocnut-flavored gelato and I recommend pairing it with the chocolate chip cookie dough flavor!

Other food-related jottings that I have:

• Chicken thigh fillets are the best cuts to buy at the butcher. It’s also my favorite chicken cut because you can do so much with it. Keep the skin on when you buy them.

• I still have my list of restaurants and dishes that I want to try this year. I want to try the chicken schnitzel at Lusso, as well as making steak using my stainless steel pan.

• Maybe I need another stainless steel pan? But I need to save money.

• Jollibee’s Burger Steak Supreme is something that I want to recreate soon.

• I also need to eat more vegetables.

• My neighbor opened up a coffee shop next door and it has been one of my many go-to places for coffee. They have high-quality lattes for Php 75.

Playing

I started playing Bluey’s Quest for the Gold Pen! I am a Bluey-loving adult and I am proud of it.

I’ve also been listening to some older podcasts too, like If Books Could Kill, which has made me slightly more critical about the self-help category. As for albums or playlists that I’m obsessed with? I’m currently enjoying my Coachella curation, which mostly has stuff from BINI and Taemin.

Now on to shows and movies that I am loving, I am obsessed with The Devil Wears Prada 2. I love it and I can definitely see myself as an Andy who has been pushing herself too hard to be an Emily. I also watched The Drama, which was excellent. As for TV shows, I am still watching Grey’s Anatomy backwards. Ben Warren is now a Plastics fellow and we love that for him.

Also, Jinyoung’s second EP is coming this Wednesday!

Obsessing

Most of my obsessions are still pretty much the same, but here are some of my favorite things and activities at the moment:

• My New Balance 1906R sneakers, which are perfect for walking (and some running).

• I still enjoy taking my long walks and Sunday runs, but I am on a mini-break from running because I’ve been pushing my body a little too hard.

• Also enjoying my Strava subscription. It’s living proof that feedback is data.

• I’m finally debt-free, so I’m enjoying it. It’s also pushing me to be less materialistic and more creative with my own purchases. And it has given me a level of peace of mind that I have never really attained since 2023.

• As for resourcefulness and creativity, I’ve been coming up with my own lip combos.

Recommending

• Taking a walk outside of your own neighborhood, probably once a week. I recently walked from Greenfield in Shaw/Ortigas to my dad’s condo in Ortigas and it was a pretty fun, but long walk. I actually ended up finishing the Mary Cain memoir during that walk. I finally figured out why my dad loves staying in Pasig: the roads are walkable and everything is almost walking distance around him. Living in a walkable city does wonders for your mental health. I felt this during my trips in Taiwan and Singapore, as well as my visits to Makati. In my side of Paranaque, the nicest places you can walk around in are exclusive villages. I can definitely walk around Annex 41 and 35, but if you’re thinking about long, linear walks from Annex 41 to SM Bicutan, it can be dysregulating 50% of the time.

• Watching Grey’s Anatomy backwards. Grey’s Anatomy is one of my guilty pleasures-slash-weekend habits. I enjoy watching it from the current season, then I cherry-pick the episodes that I want to watch. It’s a weird habit, but watching the show with an episode guide and watching it a non-linear way makes the experience of watching more fun.

• Having accessible beauty tools and routines. Practicing good hygiene is a challenge for many neurodivergent and disabled folks. In my experience, I try to have accessible options that work with my executive dysfunction struggles. I keep a dental kit upstairs and downstairs and I try to have duplicates of similar items so things feel familiar to me. I know it can be excessive, but they give me peace of mind.

  ---

  Treating

  For April and May, I treated myself to:

• A set of Belkin Soundform Rhythm True Wireless Earbuds. I use this for my Samsung phone and the quality is superb. It’s also easy to carry and has a long battery life that can sit through a good night’s sleep or an afternoon nap.

• Repurchased the Watsons electric toothbrush that I used to dislike. I’m giving it another chance as a way to make the task of brushing my teeth easier.

• I’ve also been taking myself out more on solo dates. But I’ve also been enjoying time to watch movies in theaters or online.

• More WRITING time!!! I’ve been writing a lot and I have so many drafts on here. I also need to update the track & field newsletter soon, given that World Relays wrapped up last week and that the Shanghai Diamond League is coming this weekend.

  
  

My mom would’ve been 64 today. Just like my dad, she would be in the thick of her senior citizen life, thriving and enjoying a slower pace. As this is another installment of Mom Fan Fiction, I wanted to share what life would be if she was still around. I still miss her.

At this point, she would’ve been retired from her public service job and is using her hefty-ish pension to treat herself and our family. She and Dad are probably collaborating on the household budget, with Miggy and I chipping in on the internet and our other expenses. She would probably give me some budget for Berry’s grooming, as well as other things that would make the household feel comfortable. She’ll also probably raise Muffin (our cat) with so much love and will probably treat her like a princess. Or maybe we’ll be raising a bunch of cats together with our dog, Berry. She loved animals.

As for her beauty and fashion picks, I remember her as someone who liked buying nice, but value-for-money items. I still have some of her clothing pieces from over 20 years ago, like that black velvet skirt that I never got to wear outdoors, or the white maternity blouse that’s both appropriate for corporate and exploring the world. Or the navy slip dress that could’ve been wedding-appropriate, but is actually more Salcedo Market Saturday-lakwatsa appropriate. She’ll gladly pass on those items to me, as well as Miggy. She also loved her dasters, so I’m sure that they will be part of her shopping cart. Aside from her closet treasures, I can definitely see her as someone buying from Uniqlo, Muji, or SM Woman. We’ll probably be borrowing each other’s clothes because I love a good uniform. As for footwear choices, she’ll probably question the absence of heels in my shoe collection. But she’ll definitely be happy that I finally found a way to fulfill my childhood wish of owning a pair of Skechers from the 90s. I used to beg her to buy me such things, but being a gainfully-employed adult has definitely given me the power to build a decent sneaker collection that I once lacked growing up. Aside from shoes and clothes, I know she’ll be thrilled to see the abundance of Filipino and Asian beauty brands. Maybe she’ll buy her balikbayan friends and cousins tubes of the BLK liquid blush, or my favorite Absidy glossy lip stain. But once in a while, she’ll probably treat herself to a nice perfume, like Estee Lauder’s Pleasures. I used that perfume in my early twenties because of her, and it was a fresh floral scent that my ex-coworkers teased as “granny perfume.” But maybe I’ll get her to try my favorite BLK perfume that’s an accessible iteration of D&G’s Light Blue. Or we’ll buy perfumes from Zara or BBW. I’ll probably get her into using Betadine’s Skin Cleanser as part of her body care routine. She’ll also probably stop me from getting my hair rebonded and we’ll spend time learning hair tutorials to work with my hair texture. After all, there’s a plethora of anti-frizz products now out in the market.

When it comes to family trips, we never had a proper long-haul family trip with her. We never went abroad as a family, or flew to a far-flung province with the four of us (me, mom, dad, and Miggy). My experiences with foreign travel only started a few years after she passed away. But then again, I remember that she wasn’t too keen on foreign travel. Or was she afraid of flying? I cannot remember anymore. I was too young. But if she were here, maybe she’ll find a way to overcome that fear or dislike. She would probably be our chaperone to Singapore trip in 2024 and would love Taylor Swift to bits. Or she would convince my dad to let us visit her cousins in New Jersey when we visited the East Coast in 2018. It makes me sad that we never got to make memories with her in faraway places.

Now on to the topic of wellness, food, and hobbies. My mom used to struggle with her weight and it was one of her insecurities. But I’m glad she did not pressure me into losing weight or made me feel icky about my own body while she was still alive. I still struggled with it though, no thanks to peer pressure and external bullying. I wished I listened to her and just exercised and moved for the sake of moving. Maybe she’ll get around to it once she’s older and she’ll probably join a walking club like how Dad is spending his Sundays to keep her fit. Maybe walking Berry outside will be her reason for moving every day. I know that Berry will love his Wowa Lynette dearly. She’ll probably make vegetables fun to eat. Or that she’ll finally figure out how to put our kitchen stove to its full potential. After all, she had a sizable collection of cookbooks and I remember her preparing my baon for school. Maybe we’ll learn how to bake. Did I mention that cooking is one of our shared hobbies? Anyway, speaking of hobbies, she was a serial hobbyist compared to my dad. She worked hard but played hard and had a lot of hobbies to keep her occupied. She loved her coloring books, her cross-stitch kits, her VHS tapes, and her own library of books. She read the Harry Potter series first and loved J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of The Rings. She was also a film and pop culture buff. She got Miggy into the Disney Princesses, while she got me into movies as a whole. During the last few months of her life, she got into F4 and Meteor Garden. Maybe she’ll be into Seventeen or GOT7? Her bias in F4 was Jerry Yan, so maybe her Seventeen bias is S.Coups and her GOT7 bias is Jay B. Maybe she’ll come with us to concerts! One of the things that I dearly miss about her is her zest for life and her love of learning new things for fun.

Oh, I forgot to mention. She introduced me to the wonders and perils of the internet as a seven-year old. She also gave me my first email, as well as access to computers. She was definitely more tech-savvy than my dad, and I think I got that from her. But given this piece of information, I can’t help but think about my mom’s potential relationship with the internet and gadgets in this day and age. I’m pretty sure that she’ll have a private Facebook and Instagram, where she’ll share our milestones in life, as well as her hobbies. She will definitely have her go-to digital banking apps and games on her phone.
Will she be outspoken about social issues online? Well, maybe she’ll allow herself to do it after retirement. But she’ll probably be the type who wouldn’t hold us back about yapping our ears off online and build our voices. Heck, my dad now fights with DDS trolls on Facebook. Maybe she won’t, but she will find a way to express disdain. As for her OS of choice? Maybe she’s a power Windows and Android user at work, but she’ll probably treat herself later in life like Daddy with a MacBook Air. It would’ve been exciting to see my parents have a lively discussion on tech use at home. And maybe she’ll see that my life online is 33% more interesting than it is IRL.

But before retirement, I think she would be more hands-on with our different needs (and wants). As I’ve previously mentioned, she was probably my biggest advocate in life. When we visited her relatives in Laguna last March, my grand-aunt, Lola Ruby, repeatedly told me that her memory of me was that she used to “fight” with my teachers in grade school because she didn’t like how I was treated due to my ADHD. If she was still alive today, she would’ve done everything to make things manageable for the whole family. After all, ADHD is also a family affair. She’ll also help me how to hate myself less. Maybe she’ll spend hours researching neurodiversity-affirming approaches with me? Maybe she’ll push me to take my writing more seriously?Or talk things out with my teachers to tell them that my ADHD does not automatically make me a pariah? But then again, she believed a developmental pediatrician who advised her to not give me chocolate as a kid. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. I still love chocolate). What if she considered ADHD medication too? I remembered how she would express her worries to Dra. Paula (my childhood pediatrician) about my picky eating and my ADHD symptoms, and she would sometimes look sad about it (even if she wasn’t).

She was the type of person who would always remind me that I’m beautiful. When I was a kid, I used to cry a lot when bullies would call me ugly, dumb, and disgusting. She would probably tell me, “You’re not ugly,” and she would let me put makeup on her so I can feel better. Whenever my busmates or peers would bully me, she would talk to Aling Sue (our bus mother) about it and set me aside so I can be safe. She never knew about the day when 2 older former busmates of mine went through my school bag without my consent and started making awful comments. I know kids can be awful, but being a kid or a teen in the 2000s is a different kind of awful. I’m guilty of this too. Apparently, one of those busmates who bullied me is now a lawyer and is known to be politically outspoken. I don’t know what to make of it, really. If she knew about my fifth grade class adviser, her treatment of me, the class-wide bullying, and the extremely dark thoughts that resulted from those experience, it would be deeply concerning to her. Maybe she’ll bring me to therapy more frequently. And that could probably give me more tools on how to regulate my emotions and thoughts.

On top of these what-ifs, I also thought a lot about how she would react to me reaching puberty and adulthood. Will she be infantilizing? Maybe my mother will approach things differently. Maybe she’ll allow me to have fun while harnessing my intelligence. She’ll probably take my writer dreams more seriously. Or she’ll allow me to discover the hobbies that I really enjoy. Maybe she’ll tell my dad to calm down and not compare me to my peers, just because I’m struggling with Math and Science. Not having her around has left me with more questions than answers about how I’ll navigate my own adulthood. Oftentimes, I see girls and women look up to their moms as their go-to person for processing and navigating life, and it makes me feel jealous that I don’t have them. Yes, I may have mother figures growing up, but they never fully understood who I am and the person that I could be.

Now that I'm diagnosed with ADHD, Autism, and PTSD, how are we going to navigate these things together? How will we navigate the spectrum of struggle and triumph? Will it be baffling for her that I can set up a Mac computer easily, yet I struggle to eat and take care of myself? How will she react to my own dysregulation? She was always there, co-regulating me and teaching me how to be safe in moments where I feel like I don’t. Now that she’s gone, I’m going through everything mostly by myself.

Even though there are many questions and what-ifs, a few things are sure for me: she was the best mom who did her best to make me feel loved, safe, and seen at a time where the world believed that having ADHD is a death sentence or a ticket to a series of fuck-ups, she taught me to be kind, and she constantly reminded me how to enjoy my life in a way that feels authentic to me.

Happy birthday, Mommy. Thank you for always being there, even if you’re not really here. Thank you for watching out for me in my moments of success, as well as the moments where I want to blow my life up. Thank you for being a constant reminder to show up for myself daily, even if during days are hard.

I love you.