Two days ago, someone gave an offensive and unnecessary remark about the way I look. It left me hurt, sad, and very angry. I didn’t say anything at that instance, and opted to let my anger pass and calm myself, and confront that person the following day. I prayed on it, and finally resolved to just let the incident pass, choose my battles. 

The following day, I chanced upon an article on The Female Network. It was a feature about Jodilly Pendre’s (Asia’s Next Top Model runner-up)  own struggles (similar to mine), and how she lifted herself up from it. How very timely and apt to read about that. And right at that moment, I became even more convinced that I had made the right decision – – – to be the better person. I picked up an idea from Jodilly, to write to myself, as a way to release my anger and frustration, and eventually, let the hurt go. 

The anger is  gone, and I can laugh about it now. 

Earlier, with a bunch of guts and kapal ng mukha, not expecting that Jodilly would even pay any attention, I wrote her a short message on Instagram to thank her for the inspiration and encouragement. I believe, when someone gives you inspiration and encouragement, you let that person know. That’s one of the many ways you can spread love, show appreciation, lift each other up, and hopefully, inspire as well.

She replied. 🙂 

Smile. We’re all beautiful. ❤️



Dear Doreen:

Yesterday, just as you were about to conclude what was supposed to be a great day, someone ruined it for you, with words that you feel (you believe) although meant to be funny as a joke, were unnecessary, offensive, and hurtful. That person might not have realized it, but her words stabbed you in the gut, quite badly. Her words left you embarrassed, angry, hurt, and worst of all, ashamed of the way you look.

Go ahead. I am allowing you some time to feel the pain. Cry if you must. Let it out, and let it go.

How very timely and apt that you chanced upon an article about someone else’s own struggles and how she lifted herself from such. It gave you some relief and assurance that you are not alone, didn’t it?  You are not the only one who gets undermined for the way you look. You are not the only one who has body issues. Everybody has it. But these so-called body imperfections are what makes you who you are. These imperfections are what makes you, YOU. These imperfections make you beautiful.

Yes, Doreen, you are beautiful. Say it again. You are beautiful. One more time, and this time, mean it. You are beautiful.

Look, I know you’re tired of the hurt, the pain caused by people’s words, expectations, and opinions of you. Stop listening to those that pull you down, and start appreciating yourself for who and what you are. I know it isn’t easy. It never really is, but it is possible — attainable, and you can do it.

Realize and acknowledge that as you go through life, you will still meet more people who will size you up and judge you. Let them. Keep in mind that you can never really please everyone, and you don’t really, actually have to.

Cast away negativity, and keep yourself open to positivity, always.

I love you. ❤️


My cubicle neighbor office mate plays a number of light (love) songs on her computer every day, on a loop. The same familiar songs you would listen to in cabs, small offices, some cafés, etc. You know, the kind that’s enough to keep you awake during ungodly hours, but not too loud that would keep you from being productive.

Anyway, there’s one song I’m particularly fond of: Believe It Or Not by Joey Scarbury (?). Every time that song plays, I can’t help but sing along — just enough for me to hear of course, and not for the entire office. The chorus serves as a good pick me up or motivation, too.

Believe it or not  // I’m walking on air // I never thought I could feel so free // Flyin’ away on a wing and a pray’r // Who could it be // Believe it or not, it’s just me.

Sing it with me. ❤

Dream On

I have very fond and vivid memories of pretending I was a market vendor when I was a little girl. I remember I would put on my mom’s heels, borrow her bag, and pretend I was selling fruits or vegetables, complete with baskets and ‘bilao’, toy food, and play money I made from paper. Of course, ‘this dream’ had a bit of an upgrade when after a few years, I wanted to become a cashier at Shoemart, no less.

As years passed, my dreams changed, from market vendor and cashier to a teacher, an office girl, and quite heavily, a writer and a newscaster. 

Almost everything I did in late gradeschool and most of highschool was directed towards achieving that dream. I joined the school paper, even if I felt I was not any good at it, and so many more were much better than I was. There was even a time I auditioned for a new children’s show – – – a kiddie version of TV Patrol. I passed all the preliminary stages – – – exam, interviews, but fumbled in the VTR where we were made to read the news in Filipino. Weeks before my audition, I practiced reading newspapers in English in front of my parents and of a mirror, but had not anticipated that, for crying out loud, I was auditioning for a Filipino newscast. It remains a good story to tell though, except a friend of mine thinks differently, and would rather tell a story of me competing against and losing to Aiza Seguerra in Little Miss Philippines on Eat Bulaga. A story, which although untrue and made up, is oddly more convincing to most than my audition. 

College was a different story. I saw myself pursuing teaching instead of chasing after my dreams. As much as I love teaching now, clearly it wasn’t my first love. I flunked my entrance exam in UP, and was waitlisted in UST. (Surprise. I was never a good student.) Since I didn’t want to risk not being able to get into UST, I decided to take my second choice – – Education, with the hopes of shifting to my desired course, Broadcasting and Journalism, during my sophomore year. But as fate would have it, after we were made to observe a preschool class during freshman year, I decided to stay on, and the rest, as people say, was history.

I spent twelve years teaching, and completely forgot about my first love. Yet again, fate had its way, with me getting burnt out from my twelve year routine. I needed to do something else, something I lost time for – – – writing. 
I do not regret the path I have journeyed on in the past years. I loved every year I devoted to teaching, and I feel that I will always be a teacher, no matter what. But right now, I feel like I should be doing this, something I should have done years before, to pursue my dreams and take all the necessary steps in attaining it. It doesn’t even have to be something grand. All I hope to do is live my dream, and share it. I want to write, so I do; I want to touch lives and inspire with my words, that, I hope to do. “I have but a small voice; I have but a small dream,” as my favorite Lea Salonga song goes.

Juvenile as it may seem, I have recently committed to keeping a blog and compiling everything I write. I’ve kept countless notebooks in the past, filled with essays that I never got to finish, so now, more importantly, I’ve committed to writing every day and finishing what I write. 

We all have dreams. Some we achieve; Others we do not. Some take longer than the others to be attained; Others require that we go through bumpy roads; Most we set aside, or worse, forget. Do not forget. Take baby steps if you must, but don’t forget. It only gets wasted if it’s ignored, or forgotten, so keep keeping on. Follow your heart, and go where your feet will take you. Believe.


Take that initial baby step

You’ve got to begin somehow

So go ahead

Opportunity knocks at your doorstep

Despite the fears and hesitation

Make that leap with your eyes wide-open

And watch everything unfold and happen

Be present



Here’s your chance to make a difference

Dreams are finally becoming true

Worry not, go

Push through.