Book Review: The Tattooist of Auschwitz: 9 Hours of Countless Tears

Just me, this book, and a growing knot in my chest for nine hours straight!

The Tattooist of Auschwitz is not an easy read. It’s not meant to be. It’s a love story set in the middle of horror. Every page hurt. I cried a lot. Not just teary-eyed but full-on, nose-clogging sobs. 

Because how do you read about people starving, freezing, trembling under the threat of death every second and not feel that?

Lale, the main character, gets the job of tattooing numbers on the arms of new prisoners. He does it to survive. And somehow, through this horror, he meets Gita. He falls in love.

And here’s the strange thing: I felt kilig. I shouldn’t, right? It’s Auschwitz. But their story reminded me how powerful love is. Even when the world is burning, even when tomorrow isn't guaranteed, people still choose love.

There were scenes where I paused just to breathe. Because it wasn’t just their pain I felt, it was their fear, their strength, their quiet hope. It felt so close, like I was watching someone I knew fight to survive.

This book broke me, and I’m not exaggerating. But it also reminded me why I read. Not just for escape but to feel. To witness. To remember.

Will I read it again? Probably not. Once was enough. But I will carry it with me. And that, I think, is what good stories do. *4.8/5

Dear John ❤️

Dear John ❤️

There’s so much I want to say, but words always seem to fall short when I try to capture how much you mean to me. Still, here I am, hoping that I can put even a fraction of my heart into this.

You’ve been my loudest cheerleader, even when I couldn’t hear my own voice.

You clapped so loud that I could barely hear the voices within, the doubts, the fears, the endless critics. Every time I was ready to shrink back or give in to self-doubt, you stood there, reminding me of my strengths and anchoring me to my core self. Your love has been my compass, guiding me back whenever I felt lost.

In moments when I questioned my worth, you saw my potential before I even recognized it. You never let me forget who I am, even when I was too tired to see it for myself. You carried me with your trust and belief, giving me the courage to keep moving forward.

You’ve been my safe place. In a world that often feels too loud and demanding, you’ve given me a quiet corner where I CAN JUST BE. You listen when I ramble about my thoughts. You hold space for all the versions of me: the career alpha woman, the fangirl, the emotional thinker, and most importantly, the wife and mom who sometimes just wants to cry for no reason.

You love me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. You show up, not just in the grand gestures but in the everyday moments. From the little things like preparing my favorite food daily, peeling my shrimps and dried fish, to silently staying by my side when I’m overwhelmed, you prove that love is felt most in the quiet, consistent ways.

Our journey hasn’t always been easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. You’ve been my rock through life’s highs and lows. When I was navigating emotional phases, financial challenges, and moments of doubt, you were there, patiently, lovingly, reminding me that I’m not alone.

And when life got chaotic, you didn’t just stand beside me, you carried me. You gave me the space to be vulnerable, the strength to rise, and the courage to dream even bigger.

I’m here today, stronger and more confident, because you’ve never stopped believing in me.

Di, thank you for being my constant. For loving me through every season... when I’m at my best and even when I’m far from it. For being the kind of man who doesn’t just say “I love you,” but lives it in every action, every word, and every sacrifice.

I don’t say this enough, but I’m beyond blessed to do life with you. And if I had to choose a thousand times over, I’d still choose you. Always, you.

I love you more than words can say. ❤️

With all my love,
Your Queen Sugar Bee

ILLUSIONS and MY REALIZATIONS

I’ve always been skeptical of books that sound too dreamy. Maybe it’s the existentialist in me. So when I picked up Illusions by Richard Bach, I didn’t expect much. Just another philosophical read. But page after page, it got under my skin.

Existentialism says life has no set path. We create our own meaning. Illusions leans another way. It says reality bends to belief. That idea bothered me. If belief can change everything, then what about pain? Regret? Loss? I've been through enough to know life isn’t that simple.

Still, it made me think. Maybe control isn’t about changing events. Maybe it’s how we look at them. I’ve spent years trying to make sense of life’s mess. But what if I’m not supposed to fix it... just live it?

One line stayed with me: “Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.”
It hit me. I’ve used labels like “introvert,” “not good at numbers,” or “too emotional” to stay small. I never meant to. But those words became excuses. Beliefs that boxed me in.

And then there’s this: we can’t save everyone. I’ve tried. I’ve poured myself into friends, thinking I could help them see what I see. But growth? It’s personal. You can’t drag someone to their awakening. You just live your truth and let them find theirs.

Illusions didn’t change my life. But it held up a mirror. Reminded me that I can shape my reality, not by pretending bad things didn’t happen, but by choosing what meaning I give them.

That might not be magic. But it’s powerful in its own quiet way.

BREATHTAKING DUBAI DESERT

The moment my foot touched the golden sand of the Dubai desert, I just stood there, overwhelmed, emotional as h*ll. It wasn’t just the breathtaking view or the vastness stretching endlessly before me...it was the weight of everything I had been through to get there. A flood of emotions rushed in, and for a second, I felt like my younger self again - the child they once said would never make it.

Growing up without a father, I heard the whispers, the doubts, the quiet judgments. Society often paints a picture of what success should look like, and according to them, I was at a disadvantage. They said I’d struggle, that I wouldn’t go far. But here I was, standing in a place I once thought I’d only see in pictures. Life has a way of proving people wrong when you choose to believe in yourself.

This journey wasn’t easy. It was built on long nights, sacrifices, setbacks, and the constant battle against self-doubt. But with every challenge, I pushed forward. I worked hard, I failed, I learned, and I kept going. I carved this path with resilience and faith, and stepping onto that desert was proof that I had made it. Maybe not to the ultimate destination, but to a place I once only dreamed of.

If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: "where you come from doesn’t define where you’re going". People will doubt you, circumstances will test you, and life will challenge you. But at the end of the day, it’s your belief in yourself and your relentless pursuit of your dreams that will take you places.

So, to anyone who’s ever felt like they weren’t enough because of where they started, keep going. The world is big, and your journey is just beginning. Onto the next...

To Christ Through Mary

Whenever we visit Cebu, we never leave without paying a visit to Mama Mary of Lindogon in Simala. There’s something truly miraculous about being there. It’s a place where I can pour out my heart, shed tears without fear of judgment, and leave feeling relieved, heard, and comforted.

I vividly remember my first visit to Simala, where I prayed fervently for more closed deals, specifically hoping for a sale exceeding 5M. Just a few weeks later, I closed a deal worth 5.4M. Since that moment, visiting Simala has become an annual vow, my "panata." 

Mama Mary of Lindogon has also been a beacon of hope when I sought guidance for my husband’s board exam. I left feeling assured, and soon after, my husband became a licensed real estate broker.

I had promised to visit Mama Mary again after our national convention, but a typhoon disrupted our plans, canceling all boat schedules. We had to reroute through Santander, the southernmost part of Cebu, a 7-hour long drive, followed by a short boat ride to Dumaguete, and another 6-hour drive home. Unfortunately, this unplanned detour meant missing our visit to Simala. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that this misstep affected our business, as we hadn’t closed any deals since.

In December, we returned to Cebu, determined to visit Simala again, but time constraints due to our flight schedule foiled our plans once more. Another failed promise, and December passed without any sales.

Finally, on January 7, we returned to Cebu for a business event and allocated a day to visit Simala. After a nearly three-hour taxi ride, we arrived. It was a relief to be there again and fulfill our promise. We spent several hours at the sanctuary, lifting the weight of guilt off our shoulders. Right after, we headed to the airport. Just a few days later, on January 11, we secured our first sale of the year, a smooth and successful transaction.

I know this was no coincidence. Thank you, Lord God, and thank you, Mama Mary, for interceding for us. To Christ through Mary. 

Reflections of Friendship

In March 2024, I penned an entry in my journal about a blossoming friendship that I feared had ended due to a petty mistake I did that resulted in some misunderstanding. It took me nine months to find the courage to address it when my friends visited my house again. I knew it was the perfect moment to clear the air and define what our relationship truly was. As you know, I am not one for ambiguous, half-hearted relationships, especially in friendship, where I have learned just recently that reciprocity is essential. When I love, I love deeply, truly, madly.

So, I brought up the unresolved issue that, in my view, needed to be addressed and discussed like the mature adults we aspire to be. I’m glad I did. I received the clarity we had neglected for so long, and hearing from them, I realized they value me as much as I value our friendship. That was comforting and reassuring.

This was the most significant event for me in the fourth quarter of the year. The clarity, maturity, and understanding I longed for in friends, I found in them. Now, I can move past it and welcome 2025 with a light heart, free from pretenses and without walking on eggshells around my newfound friends. I love them, they love me, and I hope our friendship will be so deep that no petty mistakes or misunderstandings can break us.

Dear R,

Thank you for your understanding and forgiveness; I have longed for it. I cherish you like a siszter, and it's comforting to know you feel the same.Thank you for backing me up when everyone else's ignores. We've a lot in common, I believe so, and I am glad I have you. Thank you for sharing your world with me, as I have with you. Thank you also for the patience, and for never invalidating my feelings during my outbursts. I appreciate you. May you continue being awesome, or even better. I,too, aspire to be a better friend for you. May we grow together in faith, love, and our careers. I love you, my sister!

Love,

Sisz

Day 1 of 365: This Year Is Gonna Be Different

It's been a long time since I last felt this serenity within me. For as long as I can remember, Christmas and New Year's have always been difficult for me. These holidays, meant to be a time of laughter, warmth, and togetherness, have often felt like a mirror reflecting back all the ways I feel lacking. It’s as if there’s a gap I’ve been trying to fill. All I know is that, year after year, these seasons leave me emotionally drained and vulnerable.

The twinkling lights and cheerful carols, ironically, seem to amplify that emptiness. I see families gathered around lavish dinners, friends exchanging thoughtful gifts, and social media flooded with carefully curated snapshots of joy. And yet, there I am, wondering why I can’t feel the same unfiltered happiness. Despite being surrounded by people, there’s always been an unspoken loneliness, a heaviness I couldn’t quite name.

Growing up, the holidays weren’t defined by material abundance or grand celebrations, but they carried a weight I struggled to understand. Perhaps it was the pressure of unspoken expectations, or the realization of what wasn’t there. Each year, I’d replay the "what ifs" and "should haves" in my mind, trying to piece together an elusive sense of wholeness.

But this year feels different. For the first time in a long while, I’m beginning to embrace a quiet kind of peace. Instead of chasing after some ideal version of the holidays, I’ve started to redefine what they mean to me. I’m learning to focus on the small, genuine moments that truly matter: the sound of my son’s laughter, a heartfelt conversation, or the simple act of sitting by the Christmas tree, basking in its soft glow.

I’m also confronting one of my deepest fears---the fear of becoming the person I don’t want to be. For so long, I’ve carried the pressure of not turning into my father. It’s been a constant shadow, an anchor weighing me down. I’ve worked tirelessly to distance myself from the patterns I saw growing up, but in doing so, I’ve realized I was still letting those patterns define me. This year, I’m choosing to let go of that fear. I am not my father’s mistakes, nor am I bound by his shortcomings. I have the power to break cycles, to choose kindness, understanding, and love as my guiding principles.

Letting go of this weight hasn’t been easy. Undoing years of emotional baggage never is. But I’m learning to forgive myself for not having all the answers. I’m learning to release the pressure of making everything perfect. Most importantly, I’m learning to offer myself grace. 

Perhaps the gap I’ve been trying to fill isn’t meant to be patched with grand gestures or external validations. Maybe it’s about sitting with the discomfort, acknowledging its presence, and finding beauty in the imperfect moments. It’s about showing up, even when I feel like retreating. It’s about choosing love---for myself, for the people who truly matter, and for the life I’ve been given.

So this year, I’m letting go. I’m choosing to let this newfound serenity guide me into the new year. For the first time, I’m approaching the holidays not with dread, but with a quiet hope that things can be different. That I can be different. And maybe that’s the real magic of this season---not the gifts, the parties, or the traditions, but the chance to rediscover myself amidst it all.

The Kindred Spirits Annual Outreach Program

December has always been a whirlwind of emotions, activities, and celebrations. The moment the calendar flips to the last month of the year, it feels like the universe hands us an invitation to dive into a festive marathon. This year, I found myself hopping from one themed party to another, attending awards nights, and being swept away by the sheer energy of the holiday season.

Don't get me wrong---I love the holidays and everything that comes with them. But let’s be real: it’s exhausting. Physically, I feel drained; emotionally, I’m teetering between elation and fatigue. Some days, it feels like I’m running on nothing but the adrenaline of the moment and the joy of seeing everyone so festive and full of life.

Yet, amidst the overwhelming schedule and endless socializing, there’s this small, persistent voice inside me that says, Do more. Be more.

For me, December isn’t just about parties, gifts, or even the recognition of awards. It’s about purpose, making sure I cap off the year with something that truly matters. That’s why, no matter how busy or tired I get, I make time for my yearly panata: The Kindred Spirits Annual Outreach Program.

This outreach program is close to my heart, and it’s a promise I’ve made to myself to give back to those who need it most. This year, my recipients are the families affected by the eruption of Mt. Kanlaon. Their lives have been turned upside down, and while I know I can’t fix everything, I can do something.

This program isn’t about grand gestures; it’s about sharing what I have—whether it’s food packs, toys for the kids, or simply offering a moment of joy and relief. It’s my way of reminding myself (and hopefully others) that Christmas is more than just lights, music, and presents. It’s about giving from the heart.

It’s easy to get lost in the sparkle of the season, but true fulfillment comes when you know you’ve made someone’s life a little brighter, even for just a moment.

Yes, December is overwhelming. Yes, I’m tired. But when I think about the smiles of those we’ll help, the laughter of children receiving unexpected gifts, and the gratitude of families who feel seen and cared for, it becomes worth every ounce of effort.

I’ll be sharing updates on the outreach soon, and if you feel inspired to join or support, I’d be more than happy to have you on board. Together, let’s make this December not just overwhelming, but truly heartwarming.

Merry Christmas, everyone! 🎄

9 Years with Filipino Homes: A Journey of Growth and Gratitude

Nine years ago, we took a leap of faith and entered the world of real estate with Filipino Homes. It was a mix of excitement, uncertainty, and  hope that this path would lead us somewhere meaningful. Looking back now, it’s incredible to see how much has changed---not just in our careers but in our lives as a whole. Filipino Homes didn’t just open doors for us; it built a home where we could grow, thrive, and find a community that feels like family.

The early days were no walk in the park. There were endless learning curves, countless rejections, and moments of doubt that made us question if we were really cut out for this industry. But those challenges shaped us. They taught us resilience, strengthened our work ethic, and reminded us to celebrate even the smallest wins. Filipino Homes gave us not only the tools to succeed but also a support system that made every step forward feel like a collective victory.

Through the years, we’ve celebrated milestones we never thought possible. From closing dream deals, mentoring new agents, and even being recognized as one of the Top Real Estate Superstars. But more than that, what truly stands out are the relationships we’ve built along the way. The clients who became friends, the team members who became like family, and the mentors who believed in us when we struggled to believe in ourselves.

This nine-year journey is not just about our personal growth; it’s about being part of something bigger. Filipino Homes has taught us that success is sweeter when shared and that real estate is more than just closing deals—it’s about creating opportunities and being a tool for others to find their own sense of home.

As we celebrate this milestone today, we’re filled with gratitude for everyone who has been part of this journey: our mentors, teammates, clients, referrals, families, friends, and, of course, our Big Boss Anthony Leuterio and Boss May who has been our anchor through it all. Here’s to nine years of growth, grit, and endless possibilities... and to the many more years ahead with Filipino Homes.

Happy 9th anniversary to us! Thank you for being part of our story.

Finding My Flow

In October 2024, I signed up for a Yoga Class, and it is a journey I didn’t know I ever needed. Trust me, I know... I know this is a big leap to take, but I am pretty proud of that decision. At first, I wasn’t sure if I could keep up with the schedule and poses or even find peace amidst the chaos of my daily life, but I knew I had to try, and it's the best decision I’ve ever made in my self-love era.

My very first session was all about awkwardly stretching while trying to balance and follow the instructor. I couldn’t even touch my toes without wincing. My body felt stiff, and my mind was louder than I realized, filled with doubts about whether I belonged on that mat. My mind used to juggling endless tasks, resisted the idea of slowing down. But Khalon became my sanctuary, and surprisingly, now... I look forward to the next session every time.

Over the month, I noticed subtle shifts. I can now take deep breaths. If you know me, it's always been difficult for me to breathe properly in certain situations. The poses, once intimidating, became opportunities to challenge myself and celebrate progress. Every time I feel the pain, I love it. That simply means my muscles are doing their magic. Showing up twice or thrice a week transformed yoga from a fitness routine into my healing ritual.

Now, even when life gets busy and schedules clash, I find ways to keep the practice alive, even at home. A quiet corner of my attic room has become my personal studio. With a mat rolled out and soft music playing, I’ve learned to create the same sense of calm and connection within my own space.

Yoga has become more than just a workout, it’s a reminder that I can carry calm within me, no matter where I am. Studio days are still my favorite when time allows, but I’ve embraced the beauty of flexibility, both in my body and my routine.

Have you ever tried yoga? I’d love to hear about your experiences or what you do to find your calm amidst the chaos. Let’s talk in the comments! Namaste 🌿

IS IT TOO LATE NOW?

You ever find yourself questioning decisions you thought were set in stone years ago? Like, “Hey, is it too late now?” Well, that’s exactly where I’m at right now, contemplating going back to school for a second degree. Really.

But I’m stuck. Do I go for BS Real Estate Management, which makes total sense because, hello, it’s my career, my bread and butter. Or do I throw caution to the wind and dive into something completely different and totally exciting for me right now---Philosophy? I mean, existential questions have been creeping into my mind lately, and I’ve found myself completely fascinated by this new world of deep thought. So yeah, BS Philosophy has become this weird new crush I didn’t see coming!

On one side, Real Estate Management is a smart, sensible choice. It’s in line with everything I’m doing, and I know it’ll boost my career. On the other side, Philosophy is a completely different vibe, one that feels like feeding my soul in a way I didn’t expect. Can you tell I’m torn?

Then there’s that looming, annoying voice in my head asking: “Is it too late for this?” Like, shouldn’t I have figured this out 10 years ago? But—is it really about being too late? Or is it about giving myself permission to grow in ways I didn’t expect?

I mean, why should I limit myself? I could chase Real Estate Management and sharpen my skills, make better deals, and grow my business. Or, I could nerd out with existential philosophers, question life, and get deep. Both options are appealing in their own way, and both paths lead to different versions of me.

But really, the best part of this dilemma is realizing that I still have the chance to make a choice. I can do something completely practical or something that feeds a newfound passion... and maybe, just maybe, there’s no wrong answer.

I’m still figuring it out. Help!

Missed Opportunity : A REDIRECTION

Lately, I’ve found myself strolling down memory lane, bumping into moments I hadn’t thought about in years. One memory, in particular, popped up out of nowhere---it’s about a life-changing opportunity that I’ve kept to myself all this time. Not even my closest friends or family know this story.

So, here’s the tea: Right after college, there was still a part of me that dreamt of continuing my studies. I applied for a scholarship for a Master’s Degree at Mother of Life Center (MOLC)--- and I got it!

Here’s a snippet of the email I received:

"Greetings in Mary, Mother of Life!"

We are happy to announce your admission as a scholar at MOTHER OF LIFE CENTER (MOLC) for the academic year 2013-2014. Please find the attached Letter of Acceptance and a Direction Map to the Center, along with the necessary requirements. We look forward to your confirmation and attendance. Congratulations, and may God bless you!"


I was beyond excited, but there was a catch. As a fresh grad, I didn’t have the financial means. Sure, the scholarship covered tuition, but I still had to think about transportation, living expenses, and everything else. Most scholars had sponsors from sectarian groups or private individuals, but I didn’t have anyone who could help me with those costs.

Knowing my family’s situation, I kept this opportunity to myself. I needed to start earning, so... I turned down the offer and dove straight into employment.

Fast forward while I was working at PSI as a “bayaning puyat”, I got a call from MOLC’s Dean of Studies. She urged me not to give up on the scholarship, reminding me that I was one of only two people from Negros Island who had been accepted.

Sometimes, I still wonder, “What if?” What if I had taken the leap? Would I have become a nun like I once thought? Or maybe I would’ve followed my passion for teaching Religious Studies?

Well, who knows? It's all in the past now and my "not-stpd-afterall" choices had led me to FH and, eventually, to my husband's loving arms. My two forever! 

Indeed, life is full of choices. Some we pursue, some we let go. There’s no sense in dwelling on what could have been. Life is about creating our own meaning from the choices we make. I am where I am, not because it was meant to be, but because I chose this path, and God is with me.

Happy Birthday, Maria!

Happy Birthday, Maria!

To me, you’re more like a soulmate than just being a neighbor, classmate, distant relative, and barkada. What we have is something special. It’s in every shared memory and in the unspoken understanding between us. It is something indescribable. Now, look at you- Sed’s appointed guardian! 

How have you been? I can only imagine how challenging life in Aus must be for you. I know the weight of being far from home all too well, as I can't even stay 7 days away from Sed.  I couldn’t be prouder of you for making it this far. Your absence made a great impact on me. You are greatly missed. Since you left, I’ve felt so sepanx, but ofcourse, you know nothing about this because I know you’re already battling homesickness. You’ve had to be strong, and so have I, in different ways. I know you’re doing everything to adjust, to be resilient, and to face the challenges ahead. And I admire you for that.

I truly hope you’ve found some happiness there. I hope you’re fighting for the life you deserve, even when things feel heavy. I know you might be keeping some struggles to yourself, and even though I’d love to ask you all about them, I’ll just wait until you’re ready to share.

Just know that, no matter what, we are always here for you. Ready to listen, ready to support you the way you’ve always supported us. The distance might be far, but our love and connection aren’t going anywhere. We are always with you in prayers.

All I hope for is that you’re okay, that you’re finding strength in each day, and that you remember... we’re here, whenever you need us. You are part of our family.

XoXo, Team V.

Existential Crisis

Featured Book: No Exit

"To be a woman is to confront the freedom and responsibility of existence head-on. As Sartre taught, existence precedes essence, so a woman is not born with a predefined role or purpose. Her essence is something she creates through her actions, decisions, and the meaning she assigns to her life. It’s about living with authenticity, forging her path, and defining what it means to be a woman on her own terms." - ME as a pseudo-existentialist in a beauty pageant

They say that once you dive into the works of Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus, there’s no fixing you. I can relate to that. The first time I picked up their books, I had no idea just how much they would change me. But now, after immersing myself in their thoughts, I can feel the difference. The shift in the way I see the world and my place in it.

Existentialism isn’t just a philosophy; it’s a lens through which everything else starts to look different. Sartre’s ideas on freedom and responsibility, and Camus’ thoughts on absurdity and the search for meaning, have a way of digging deep into your soul. They force you to confront the uncomfortable truths about life, and once you’ve seen those truths, it’s hard to unsee them. 

For me, this journey into existentialism has brought on a deep sense of crisis. It’s not a crisis in the sense of panic or fear, but more of a deep questioning about everything: What does it all mean? What am I supposed to do with this existence? The more I think about it, the more I realize that these questions don’t have easy answers...if they have answers at all.

Knowing Sartre and Camus has made me acutely aware of the contradictions in life. We crave meaning, yet we’re confronted with the "absurd". We’re free to make our own choices, yet that freedom can feel overwhelming. We search for purpose, but purpose is something we have to create for ourselves, often in a world that seems indifferent to our struggles.

And so, here I am, yapping nonsense with these ideas, feeling both liberated and burdened by them. There’s a certain beauty in embracing the absurd, in acknowledging that life doesn’t have to have a predetermined meaning. But there’s also a weight that comes with it, a weight that I carry with me every day.

It’s a strange feeling. Sometimes it feels like too much, like the world is too big and my place in it too small. But other times, it’s empowering to know that I am the author of my own story, that I have the freedom to choose how I respond to the absurdity around me. Oftentimes, it's scary.

I don’t have it all figured out, obviously. I am far from it. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe this isn’t about finding answers, but about learning to live with questions. It’s about embracing the uncertainty, the freedom, the absurdity, and finding a way to make peace with it all... but just how? Well, that's the point, right? To  keep questioning, exploring, and perhaps... growing.

For now, I’ll keep reading, keep thinking, and keep searching. And even though it feels like there’s no fixing me after Sartre and Camus, maybe that’s okay. Just deal with it, okay? It's me now. 

P.S //Thank you for understanding this phase of mine.

Solace in Stillness

Today was one of those days. I woke up at 3 PM but stayed in bed until 5 PM, feeling too heavy to move. My only meal was a single Foodman ensaymada bread and a few sips of fresh milk. I had no desire to do anything; my head throbbed, my body ached, and my heart was burdened with a thousand small sorrows. 

It's been 3 days now, and I would randomly tell Dadikins, "Di, I want to cry," and when he asks why, "I don't know why." is what I reply... or maybe... it's a lie? Probably it’s the petty issues happening in my life, or the music in the car that's hurting me, stirring emotions I can't process. I couldn’t bring myself to scroll through socmed --- I just didn’t want to see anyone and any news about "it". Even the thought of watching a GoSe or Ghibli or online retail therapy, hoping to divert my attention, held no appeal. I'm quiet surprised! I certainly know why, but the depth of the hurt surprises me. It’s unexpected  and it's pulling me under. Why and how does "it" managed to weigh so heavily on my heart?

P.S Emily in Paris Season 4 is here and I suddenly felt okay. Plus the new episode of Pulang Araw gave me some light. Yes, OK na si OA! ^^ #Jeonghannnaaaa!

FH: Instrument of God's Grace

The story of our journey, Dadi and I, is one of grit, perseverance, and hard work. We've built our lives, our careers, and our family with the same spirit that has driven us to succeed in the ever-demanding world of real estate.

When we decided to take this path as licensed real estate broker and unit managers, we knew the road wouldn't be easy. It was a challenge we willingly accepted, something worth every step, every sweat, every tears. Our combined efforts have brought us to where we are today: Top Sales Managers, national awardees, and consistent leaders of Team Prime. But our success isn't just about the honor we've garnered all these years... it's about the people we've impacted and the team we've built.

We began our journey humbly, but with great ambition. Partnering with various developers, we quickly established ourselves as top performers, consistently ranking among the best in Visayas and on a nationwide scale. Over the years, we've been recognized as top agents and sales managers, celebrated for our leadership and commitment to excellence. From our early days in Bacolod to becoming nationwide top sellers, it’s been a whirlwind of growth.

But success, we’ve learned, isn’t just about numbers. It’s about building relationships, touching lives, and helping our clients achieve their own dreams of homeownership. It’s about the joy we feel when we hand over the keys to a family’s new home or when our clients realize the long-term value of their investment. Real estate, for us, is not just about properties--- it’s about people and the legacy we’re building.

In 2017, our dreams started to take shape. We invested in our first house, marking a significant milestone for our family. This was just the beginning. In 2022, we expanded our portfolio with a second house investment, and today, we acquired our second ride. Each achievement brought us closer to the "dream life" we envisioned for ourselves, a life where hard work translates into peace of mind and financial security.

Our journey also took us beyond the shores of the Philippines. From Japan to Singapore, Bali to Thailand, Malaysia to Hongkong, our travels have opened our eyes to global real estate trends and the importance of expanding our horizons. We attended international conferences, participated in international roadshows, and cultivated relationships with clients and investors from all walks of life. These experiences have not only enriched our careers but also deepened our understanding of what it means to succeed in this industry.

Yet, amid all the success, we remain grounded in one simple truth: the true measure of success is not found in the places we've been or the things we've acquired, but in the lives we've touched. Our real estate journey is about helping others achieve their dreams while building a legacy beyond material possessions. 

Real estate success is a process. It’s not always easy, but every challenge we’ve faced has been a stepping stone toward something greater. As we continue this journey, we wear our real estate hats proudly, knowing that we’re in the business of making a real, sustainable impact on the lives of real people. We trust the process and embrace the future with optimism.

Through all the milestones we’ve achieved, our investments, our travels, and our recognitions, one thing remains constant: the desire to keep moving forward, to keep striving for more, and to keep touching lives. It’s not easy, but as we often remind ourselves, it’s going to be worth it.

Because of FH/LR, we're not just living, we're thriving. And the best part? This is only the beginning.

An "ALMOST THERE" Dream

Many years ago, I've dreamed of standing before a large audience, sharing my success story as a Guest Speaker at a Graduation Ceremony. I knew it would be SYMBOLIC--- A WINNING MOMENT! 

I’ve always believed that to earn such an honor, one must be a person of success. So, I threw myself into my work, striving relentlessly day and night.

But as the years passed, and graduation after graduation went by without an invitation, doubt crept in. "Was I not accomplished enough?" Then came the day when I saw a Facebook post from an acquaintance who had been invited to speak at our Alma Mater. It stung deeply. But instead of feeling bad, I found a renewed sense of motivation. I worked harder, prayed more, and soon enough, my efforts began to bear fruit.

As I’ve grown older and wiser, I’ve come to realize that success isn’t defined by external validation, it is about how I perceive myself, how I measure my progress against my own standards. Age has granted me the freedom to set my own benchmarks. Success, I’ve learned, is aligning my goals with my values, pursuing what genuinely resonates with me, and embracing my personal growth. With this mindset, I’ve come to cherish my unique journey, understanding that success is a subjective concept --- one that I define for myself only.

Then, yesterday, the long-awaited moment finally arrived. My former teacher invited me to be a Guest Speaker at our Alma Mater’s Recognition Ceremony. While it wasn’t the Graduation Ceremony I’d envisioned, it was close, still, and I was elated. I quickly accepted, eager to share my story with the students, and began drafting my speech immediately. The nerves are there, but so is the excitement, and I’m ready to inspire.

To be invited by my Alma Mater as a guest speaker is more than just an acknowledgment of my accomplishments; it’s an affirmation of my character, values, and the impact I can have on future generations. I am deeply honored by this invitation, and I think I can finally say---“ALMOST THERE.”

P.S. This post was drafted on February 8, 2024, on my Mac Notes.

Is Being an Empath a Gift or a Curse?

There’s a strange kind of heaviness that comes with always being the “strong one.” You carry the weight of other people’s pain, their struggles, their burdens...and somehow, you forget that you, too, need help. I’ve been an inspiration and motivator to many, even when my own life felt like it was falling apart. It’s not hypocrisy, though. I know my life’s a mess sometimes. I see it, I feel it. But that’s the thing about being an empath. You’re so in tune with what others need, that you push your own needs to the back burner.

And yet, here’s the reality no one really talks about: I need encouragement, too. I need someone to check on me, to ask if I’m okay. Not out of politeness, but out of genuine care. I need to feel like someone notices when I’m struggling under the weight of my own thoughts. But you know what? I’ve learned not to expect that from anyone.

Expectations these days--- they’re hard to carry. Reciprocity is almost a myth. We live in a world where everyone’s consumed with their own battles, and maybe that’s just how it is now. But for someone like me, who gives pieces of my soul in everything I do without asking for anything in return, it’s a hard truth to swallow.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret being this way. I’ll continue giving, continue motivating, continue showing up for others because that’s who I am. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish there was someone who understood that I, too, need a hand to hold when the world gets too heavy.

The Day I Slipped Into the Diamond Life

I never thought I’d say this, but here I am, a full-pledged CARAT. It’s funny how life surprises you sometimes. If you had told me years ago that I’d become a fan of a K-pop group, I probably would’ve laughed it off. I used to be the kind of person who rolled my eyes at K-pop. But that all changed in December 2021, thanks to that one song and my sister, who had been a CARAT since 2015. 

She had been a Seventeen fan for so long, always playing their songs, watching their performances, and following their journey. For years, I just shrugged it off. It felt like white noise to me...until it wasn’t.

One day, she showed me the 2 minus 1 and Rock with You video , and that was IT! Suddenly, I wasn’t just hearing the music; I was feeling it. The more I listened, the more I understood what had captured my sister’s heart for years. What started as curiosity turned into admiration, and before I knew it, I had slipped into the diamond life myself.

Of course, it wasn’t just that one song that drew me in. Over time, hearing their music play on repeat in our house and watching their journey through SEVENTEEN Project Debut Big Plan and 17TV, I began to admire them. I saw their hard work, struggles, and how much passion they poured into every performance. It was impossible not to appreciate how raw and genuine they were. And from being a casual listener, I found myself falling for their charm... completely and irrevocably.

Seventeen has become more than just a kpop group I fangirl over, they’ve been a part of my healing process. I’ve been going through my own quarter-life crisis; and in those moments, Seventeen’s music has been a safe space for me. Their music speaks to my every emotion. Their lyrics, melodies, and even the way they perform have carried me through some of my toughest days. It’s comforting to know that, no matter what I’m going through, there’s a song that connects with me on a deeper level.

Now, SEVENTEEN has become a big part of my life. As a CARAT, I stream their songs religiously and familiarize myself with every detail of their music. I collect Seventeen merch, most of which has come from fellow CARATs. I watch every live performance, variety show guesting, Inside Seventeen, and ofcourse, my favorite Going Seventeen (GoSe).

Fangirling is more than just enjoying music, it’s about connection. It’s about the excitement of waiting for their next comeback, staying up late for surprise releases and WeVerse Live, and feeling a sense of pride when they achieve something big or small. It’s about the shared moments with other caratdeul and knowing you’re part of a global community that loves and supports these 13 talented boys as much as you do.

Seventeen is more than a band to me; they’ve become a source of comfort, strength, and happiness. From despising K-pop to loving every bit of Seventeen, my fangirl journey has been unexpected but incredibly fulfilling. I’m proud to call myself a CARAT.

When the Time Comes

For someone like me, who treats "preparing for the future" as a bit of a hobby, planning for what happens after I’m gone is just another step in my process. It might sound morbid, but to me, death arrangements are a practical way of showing care and thoughtfulness toward those I’ll leave behind. Thankfully, I have an incredibly open-minded husband who, in everything I do or plan, supports me fully. He listens, understands, and hopefully, will carry out my wishes when that time comes.

Here’s my detailed plan for my death arrangements:

1. Cremate My Body.
This has always been clear to me. I want my body cremated. The simplicity and symbolism of returning to ashes feels right. Plus, it’s an easier burden for my loved ones to bear compared to traditional burial arrangements.

2. Display My Prettiest Photo.
I haven’t decided yet which one, but rest assured, I will post it here soon! I want that photo to reflect who I am. Alive, vibrant, and full of love for life.

3. Keep My Death Private.
This is very important to me. I don’t want my passing to be a social media event. There should be no posts, tributes, or announcements online. I’d rather only my immediate family and closest friends know. It’s a deeply personal matter, and I want to keep it that way.

4. A Simple Prayer Vigil.
For those mentioned above, I’d like a quiet, private prayer vigil. No external prayer leaders, just the people who truly knew and loved me, gathering in their own way.

5. No Wake, No Fuss.
I don’t want a wake or any big gatherings. This also means no expenses for food or any extra arrangements for attendees. I’d rather my family keep things simple.

6. Burial Mass and Tree Planting at Brgy. Sum-ag.
I want my ashes placed in an urn and buried at Brgy. Sum-ag, where my roots are. In place of a traditional tombstone, plant a small tree at my gravesite---a native species, of course. Let this tree grow tall and strong as a living reminder of me. Oops. I have to check my memorial lot policy 1st. If tree planting isn't allowed, then a small plant will do.

7. Annual Tree-Planting Event.
In keeping with my love for nature, I want a tree-planting activity held every July 4th in my memory. It’s a small but meaningful way to remember me, contribute to the environment, and to continue my advocacy.

8. No Social Media Posts, Again.
I’ll repeat this one because it’s key. I don’t want my death to be shared on social media. Let my family and friends be informed in person or through a personal message. Let it be something intimate, rather than a public thing.