How are you?

You’re not okay.

Yet you kept on fooling yourself that you are.

You fake that smile without knowing your eyes show nothing but pure sorrow.

You’re in denial of it, because you don’t want people to know you’re in the brink of falling.

You post that selfie in social media to let your followers know that you’re okay.

But little did they know that behind that filter, your naked face apparently shows that you’re on the process of healing.

It’s not even a scar yet.

It’s a fresh wound, it’s still bleeding.

Due to that heartbreak,

due to that love that’s unrequited,

due to the dream that seems so far away,

due to that person who caused you pain,

due to the quarter life or mid life crisis you’re experiencing,

due to being unhappy with your job,

due to not knowing what you want,

due to the envy you feel towards others,

due to the depression you’re going through right now

It’s torturing you but when someone asked you a how-are-you, you always answer them with the I’m-okay lie.

You’re not okay and you even thought about leaving the town or your country and start anew elsewhere.

Didn’t you?

But you didn’t know where to start and you don’t even have the courage to commence a plan of escape.

To escape from reality, from the inevitable adult problems that is so hard to get rif off.

But hey, listen to me.

Why don’t you acknowledge the fact that you’re depressed about something?

Embrace the fact that your skin is wounded upto the deepest layer of your soul.

You are bound to get hurt—whether you like it or not.

Feel it with every nerve you’ve got so you get to know better the kind of pain you’re going through.

Once you find the root of it, pull it out like weeds that need to get cut off, so it won’t fester in other parts of you.

Because you are beautiful and a one single cause of being not okay should never define you.

This time, I hope you learn how to confide in your best friend or whoever it is that you fully trust, be vulnerable with them and share them your inner thoughts, tell them the truth that you’re not okay.

Go to your room or to church or to your favorite place and cry it out loud, release all the tears your eyes are capable of bursting.

Or better yet, write it down. Everything.

You will see a massive change in you once you start being honest with yourself.

Remember, it’s okay to not be okay as long as you’re not in denial of it so you can find a solution for it.

You’re not okay today, but I promise you, as clichéd as it may seem, this too shall pass.

(Photo credit to Pinterest)

This time it’s a true story

My heart overflows with so much gratitude for all the blessings I’ve been receiving. I reckon sometimes prayers aren’t enough to let Him know how much I appreciate what He’s done for me that’s why I also write it down just like what I am doing today.

This story isn’t fiction anymore. It’s about me—a simple girl raised by two ordinary people who fought for love but isn’t wise enough to fight for their dreams. Thus, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon and I haven’t really gotten the things I wanted when I was growing up because my parents couldn’t afford it. I used to question the idea of it—on why I had to experience a life of less instead of more, a life of few instead of many. After so many years, God showed me the answer. He said he showed me the darkness so I could appreciate the light. He gave me sorrow so I could cherish each happy times. He allowed me to be poor so I can use the skills and traits he has lent me to work hard to be on top.

Whenever I look back at this humble truth, I couldn’t help but to feel so amazed with how God can truly make the seemed to be impossible, possible. I will always look back because it makes me feel thankful that the once underprivileged girl in me has now fulfilled almost everything she ever wants. And this I owe to God. I’m no billionaire and I’m not even close, but the contentment I feel with what I have makes me feel like one. It’s not entirely about the money or car or signature things that makes me overjoyed, it is primarily the blessing of love and family and friends and career and freedom that makes me feel grateful once and for all.

I share to you a tiny part of my life to urge you to look at things at a colorful perspective, to look at the rainbow—as how the tagline of my blog portray. A rainbow that brights up our day once the rain has stopped to play. I am blessed and you are too. We have to be reminded that God will always provide us what we need, more than what we ask for, more than what we think is right for us, even before we could even say what we want ’cause He knows what’s on our mind. Listen closely to your heart because that’s where He talks to us. We just need to follow the road He has set for us and live the life he gave us in the most meaningful way possible. Learn to give and share as abundant as how God showered you with so much blessings. It is through giving that you also get to showcase your gratitude for the quality of life you possess. That’s why I will never ever get tired of giving in my own little way, and I hope you too. 🙂

(Note: I normally feel unease talking about my deepest thoughts, that’s why most of my posts are fiction, due to the fear of judgment. This is a brave move for me to publish what I truly feel at the moment. I hope you enjoy reading this one. Thank you!)

#truestory 

Numbers don’t lie

“You can’t have a million-dollar dream with a minimum-wage work ethic.”

-Stephen C. Hogan

This line has been stuck in my head when the speaker from our meeting yesterday flashed this in her PowerPoint presentation. I decided to write about this idea to reiterate the value of Work Ethic, and how does it affect not only the digits in your bank account but most significantly the quality of life that you live.

I’m a huge believer of numbers. Being in sales for nearly 7 years, I have relied on logical computation on achieving what I want. I’ve never enjoyed the idea of being a regular employee (that’s why I’ve never been one), wherein the paycheck depends on the hours you spend on your office and not by the amount of hard work you put in. At some point I find this idea a little unfair to those who work harder but gets the same salary as the ones who don’t. I have nothing against employees though, because I know some people who are happy to be one. This is speaking from my own experience, my own belief system that the idea of the Law of Averages has not only made me earn more than average at the age of 26, but also improved the quality of my life in general. It has polished in a way that I’ve developed a great work ethic that has now become a habit. Truth be told that I’m not normally the most skillful in the room, neither the most talented but I can confidently say that I can fill in those loop holes by working on my numbers. I prefer working hard over working smart, above all means.

Numbers, however, is truly not the sole component of success, but if you can master it, you’re on your way to achieving whatever it is that you want. It’s a formula that anyone can use regardless of how good you are at something. When you increase your numbers, whether in terms of the number of hours you spend on your career or on writing in your blog, or on studying something that interests you, you will see a massive and positive change on the results of it. If you double your effort, or at least do that extra 1%, the repercussion will mirror what you have exerted at a certain time only fate or God could tell. The fruits of your hardwork has their own perfect timing. If you’re working way above mediocre level today and not reaping the benefits yet, you have to instill in your mind that you must be patient. Patience is a virtue anyway, yes?

In addition to that, there is no way you you would ever miss a target if you religiously follow your hitrate. Hitrate is your personal ratio that is computed based on your skill level. As a Financial Wealth Adviser, my hit rate started at 10:1, that now has upgraded over the years to 3:1. This means that for me to be able to close a deal back then, I need to be able to present to 10 clients before I can get a successful YES. In terms of blogging, this post will be my 19th, with (only) 104 followers so far, on my 3rd week since I put this up. This means that for each daily post, I get to have roughly 5 followers, hence my hit rate on increasing the number of followers based on each published post is 1:5. Now I guess I have to write twice daily so I can have 10 new followers per day, hmm. What do you think? Hihi. 🙂

Anywho, numbers don’t lie. When you look at yourself and you’re not happy with where you are right now, odds are you didn’t apply a certain amount of work ethic for each of your goals. So let me end this post with how I started it—Your dream, that doesn’t necessarily have to be a million dollar, will be fulfilled if you add an amazing work ethic on your belief system and act on it whilst you can. Success is not a sprint after all that you have to acquire the speed of Usain Bolt just to get it. And you can’t use a shortcut to success in exchange for a short term happiness with a long term catastrophe. The idea is to enjoy the process on achieving it, heedless of the time, because the destination will surely be there at the end of the tunnel. Have fun in the process of working hard, learn from each hurdles along the way and soon enough you will reap all the benefits of your above average, multi-millionaire level of work ethic.

My #500km2018challenge

This is the very first time I’m going to disclose something about myself. Most of my recent posts are fiction and a few commented on my short stories asking if those were my stories. So I decided to write something that will give you a hint of my complex self. My story—just one story though, no big deal.

I’m going to talk about my obsession for running and my goal for this year. I say obsession, like my constant longing for sweets, because I keep coming back to it—despite the unbearable physical pain (at times) as an effect of overdosed running 😂

Since most of it is off record, I decided to track the number of kilometers I want to accomplish using this amazing app called Strava. It’s hashtag 500km2018challenge, #40kmpermonth #10kmperweek. Is this even achievable?

(Note: We use km rather than miles in the Philippines)<<<<
like any goal you set, if you start with the right mindset, there's no way you wouldn't achieve it. I see you rolling your eyes now for this cliché but I'll say it anyway—A right mindset comes from the inside out and not the other way around. Yup, it's about the favorite three-letter-word of Simon Sinek, Tony Robbins, Brian Tracy or even Steve Jobs and them most influential motivational speakers you've heard—it's the WHY. Why did you set that goal in the first place? If you have a concrete answer to this, you’re now done with the first step.

<<<<
ated this fitness goal basically for both health and physical improvement. It's important for me to maintain a firm body now that my metabolism starts to slow down cos yup, I'm getting older 😅 My sugar level elevates from time to time as well so I need to burn them to death.

Second, slice your goal into small pieces so the whole pie you have to consume won't look like a tough job.

I divided the 500km to 12 months and that gives me 41.66—i rounded it off to 40km, then 10km per week. Now the goal looks more achievable from this perspective, doesn't it?

(I did 11.4km for this week, exceeding my target of #10kmperweek) Third, reward yourself. No more illuminating on this one because apart from your answer to the why you set this goal, you should not be hard on yourself too. I’d treat myself a dessert every month once the #40kmpermonth is accomplished.

(My boyfriend designed this cute voucher so I have something to look forward to every month.) Once I’m done with the #500km2018challenge, I’ll buy myself a ticket to Seoul because I really want to go back there. I usually get to travel abroad due to company’s incentive but this time it’s going to be my Solo Trip to Seoul all expense paid by me 💁🏼‍♀️ Yay!

Lastly, write your goals down and if you can, post it in your wall. (This is apparently not new to you but I’m talking about myself anyway so 🤷🏻‍♀️) This visual reminder will keep you on track. Been doing this for quite some time now and i reckon it has been effective 👌🏻

(Please don’t mind the scratches and the other goals above. But notice that i prefer the verb to be in present tense just to highlight that I’m ACTUALLY “doing it”, not “will do it” not “have done it” yet.)
Now that I’ve
s particular goal for the year, there will be no excuses smooches. It’s going to be embarrassing if I didn’t hit it so this is absolutely non-negotiable. Talking about your goals will give you more confidence and it gives you the energy to attract the universe to help you reach it. Talk about it in the most modest way possible.

PS. Remember, when you publicize your goal, do it for yourself and not to please others. If by chance you didn’t hit it it’s okay—you can revise and reset it anytime you want. 😉  

The missing piece

For a moment, she closed her eyes. Even before she could open her mouth so she can tell Him her agonies, her heart spoke to her and said, He knows what you’re going through. It’s not something atypical, it’s a relatively old feeling. It usually happens to her when she starts overthinking, when she worries about tomorrow, when she’s incapable of adding words to form a message that could describe her current painful stage. God knows precisely what she’s thinking, what’s been bothering her. He told her, Just be patient.

She has almost everything she could ask for. But there’s only one thing that’s untraceable, nowhere to be found. It seems as though destiny has been playing with her heart for a quarter of a century now. She’s trapped in a list of several facets. She’s poisoned with a smell of false hopes. She’s blinded by some inauthentic human behaviour. Hence she’s literally clueless of how and where to find it.

God can read her mind. He knows how much she worries about finding it. He knows how confused she gets, everytime there’s divergent faces of options lined up before her eyes. He knows when to speak to her whenever she falls onto the ground. Just like what He did just today.

And she recurrently falls heavily—with so much gravity that pulls her down. He saw her almost drowning in her ocean of tears. Ironically, He heard a loud shriek from her but it carries no sound.

She cursed her whole being, overlooking the bountiful fruits that surround her. Oblivious to the flowers that bloom despite her pain. She forgets everything else whenever she remembers that piece of puzzle that seemed to be so tough to find.

She almost capitulated to the idea of finding it. She’s even quite uncertain if the piece exists in the first place.

And then she closed her eyes again. In a few seconds, the wind blew all the strength it has to be able to lift her. It destroyed the sinister scene she created due to the negative voices that broke her. It blew hard she was thrown on the surface of the universe and it hit her. It hit her hard. It was painful—but a kind of pain she needed to wake up from a live nightmare. Like ice cold water busted upon her dreary face. Like some electrical shots given to her at such a high frequency.

She was awoken by the wind God used as an instrument to remind her of the beauty of life. That it’s beautiful inspite the enigma of an incomplete puzzle. That the missing piece is just out there, that one day she’s going to be able to touch it—she just have to keep the faith.

(Photo grabbed from Pinterest)

Prisoner of a faulty love

I enjoy staring at you when you’re oblivious of my presence. It’s but a chance for me to study your face, to memorize each move, to hear the voices within you—they keep on telling me to leave you, but I used to ignore all of them.

And then you’d catch me staring—hence you’d give me that wonted nonchalant smile, the kind that is inexplicably bizarre to me. A kind of smile I couldn’t correctly decode, a kind of smile I succumbed into, when it first showed up, in that park where I met you.

I enjoy looking at you despite the fact that you wouldn’t do it to me the way i do. I stare at you as if I won’t see you again—’cause I know mornings with you is vague and uncertain.

Then last night you said, I can’t leave her. I shouted at you, cussed you, hurt you. But you put an end to the war I created, using the same line you just said in the beginning of it—I can’t leave her.

Why can’t you?

I asked this to you, but no words came out of me. This query seemed so heavy, my strength is not enough to say them clearly. It’s outright lucid to me, that I am that girl you would go to, just when you’re feeling blue.

But today something’s telling me how wrong this is.

I know…

I am that girl who patiently waits for you but it’s getting tedious.

I am that girl who listens to you when no one else could, but now it’s suffocating.

I am that girl who loves you despite your blemishes, but now it’s making me sick.

I whined for the things you should have done, I craved for the words you should have said. I kept on believing there could be a change. But there’s none, guess I was insane.

I was insane—for I hoped one day you look at me the way I look at you. But now that I’m staring at you, your body seemed to be telling me that there’s no way you would ever do.

I wished that maybe one day you’ll make me first. But your heart seemed to be telling me—I only fit to number two.

Been looking at you for almost an hour now and you’re sleeping like a baby–you’re fully incognizant of what’s going on my mind, of my plan to escape.

Been couple of years since you jailed me in this house, it’s shaky already, it’s no longer enough for me.

I thought to myself, it’s time to leave, ’cause I have to live.

To live normally, to love conventionally, to find someone else who could make me his top priority.

I silently opened the drawer, picked up that old sepia colored piece of paper, wrote a five word message that said, “I deserve better than this.”

I put the note in our bed, at the side I usually slept in whenever he’s here.

I hurriedly packed my things, with no more thinking, no more hesitating.

I went to the door carrying a heart that’s crushing, trying to stop the tears from bursting, persuading my whole being to never look back again.

Before I could manage to close the door, before I reward myself of such freedom, I looked at him one last time.

In my head, I thanked him. I wouldn’t be able to know my worth if I didn’t let it melt with his hands, if I didn’t give my all to him.

I lost myself in the bed of this wrong love. I lost everything and that’s when I figured it’s time to flee.

Just like realizing one’s importance, not by its presence, but by the mere absence of it.