“The older I grow, the more earnestly I feel that the few joys of childhood are the best that life has to give.” – Ellen Glasgow Dear younger me, This is a letter I am writing to you—the little version of me, still immature and childish. You were once excited to grow up and full of light. Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows after all, dear. There are things to pay for here and there, packed schedules, and problems piled high. You wouldn’t enjoy it at all. It’s no fun. You were once excited to become an adult, to be free, to be happy. But you’ll soon realize that it is better to be a child without a single worry than to be a teenager who is miserable in life. You’d hate meeting people around you, only to have them talk behind your back. You’d hate how different responsibilities pile up all at once, and how life will force you to grow up. Eventually, you’ll reach a point where you won’t feel like you are enough, and you will feel like a failure to everyone around you. When that happens, I hope you remember this piece of advice: it is okay to make mistakes. You are doing a great job. Just be whoever you are. Don’t dwell on the future; live in the present moment. Love, older you "I hope you believe in the you inside tomorrow and dream. Love, older you." – ILLIT

Who would’ve thought you’d feel a sense of desolation even in moments of supposed joy? As if I’m expecting something heart-wrenching to happen someday. I’m trying not to be patient with the wrong things; I really am. It’s just that… I’m waiting—waiting for this prelude to lead to something worse. Well, what exactly am I waiting for? I’m waiting for the day you get tired of me. Tired of my nonsense and my mood swings. That someday you’ll leave me because I am no longer worthy of the love and affection you embrace me with. It’s honestly one of my biggest fears. That one day, you’ll suddenly keep your distance and become out of reach. That I’ll become unlovable in your eyes. You’ll no longer tolerate the way my pessimistic mind works and how I constantly need reassurance that everything will be okay. The day you’ll lose your patience and choose someone else. You’ll say I’m too problematic and will stop trying to understand my complex being. The day my flaws will disgust you, my once admirable features turned bare. You'll soon realize my depravity and see that I am not the same person as I appear to be to others. I wait. I wait. I wait. "I wait for the day when you finally say You're out of love with me." — Laufey – ms. kae 09.06.26 note: this piece is just inspired by Laufey's song and is not a personal experience (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Hell week na naman. Sabay-sabay ulit ang mga gawain. I thought I'd be able to rest considering the fact I've already finished competing at the DSTF and DSPC, kaso hindi eh. Malapit na akong ma-deploy for work immersion, tapos may practical research and entrep (short for the SHS entrepreneurship subject) pa. I haven't even started reviewing for the DCAT next month. Sa totoo lang, gusto ko na lang matulog. Not for a few hours like four or five hours, I want to sleep for a whole day. Kahit humilata lang buong araw and do nothing. Unproductive, pero at least may pahinga, ‘di ba? I want to forget all of my responsibilities and just exist without a worry, pero I'm afraid I can't do so dahil alam kong may mas pagod sa akin—ang aking mga magulang. Yes, some people might say na kahit student ka pa lang, you're allowed to feel tired. It's completely valid. But this is my own decision. I choose to keep going kahit minsan ayaw ko na or pagod ako. Alam ko kasi na my sacrifices cannot equal the sacrifices my parents have done for me, lalo na ang aking ama. It hurts to hear him say “Ang sakit na ng mga kamay ko,'“ then watch him work again a few minutes later. Isang taon na lang rin, senior citizen na siya. And I don't think he'll stop working until my sisters and I have finished college. Mag-cocollege pa lang ako oh. He still has a long way to go and I hate that. Oo, pagod ako, pero hindi pa ako p’wedeng magpahinga hangga’t may mas pagod sa akin. Hindi kami mayaman para pabayaan ko lang ang aking mga responsibilidad. Mahirap maging walang silbi sa bansang ito. Kaya hangga’t kaya ko pa, hindi muna ako matutulog. 10.17.26 - ms. kae

2:30 in the morning. Gigising na. Kahit 12:40 pa ang pasok, kailangan ko nang bumangon. I stare at the laptop for a few minutes. I will be watching tutorials again and practicing my math skills — just like what I've been doing since July. I still feel fatigued, but nonetheless, pushed myself to stay awake. 3:00 AM, I decided to start along with a cup of coffee. Doing algebra has been a lot easier nowadays, but oh, trigonometry is still waiting for me. What a killjoy. But as I continued to write and make mistakes, I thought to myself: "I wouldn't be doing this if I weren't so worked up about my future." To be honest, it's a future I am uncertain of, and I hate thinking about it. I focus on studying junior high school lessons for entrance exams, not even sure if I'll pass three out of the "Big Four." Pa'no naman kung hindi? Sayang lang siguro. What scares me even more is my future career, or if I will ever get one. I don't even know what to be yet, heck, kahit yung mga courses ko, unsure pa ako eh. At sa sobrang lala rin ng overthinking ko, I tried looking for other options, one of which is to study abroad. It may give me good opportunities, right? Pero it will also mean I'll have to compromise other important things. Why am I so worried ba? Bata pa lang naman ako. In fact, I'm only 17. I shouldn't really be having everything figured out yet, 'di ba? But to think of it, this is my reality na. Maybe it's because I know the future of others will depend on mine soon, kaya dapat with all my best, maibibigay ko ang kaya ko. Soon, I'll become the breadwinner. Matanda na tatay ko. Mga nag-aaral pa mga mas batang kapatid ko. Wala na rin akong ate na aasahan. Ewan ko ba, haha. Ang hirap... Ang hirap talagang isipin. I cannot expect them to prosper on their own in this economy, in this country, so maybe that's why I'm so pressed. Never mind. Mag-science na lang muna tayo. - ms. kae 10.28.26

Being one of the top students in our school is not an easy responsibility. You live up to their expectations, desperate to make them proud. Many say that I'm smart and diligent in my studies, born to be a leader, and eloquent indeed. Well, that's what I hear from others, though I believe that it's not all true. What they don't know is the inner turmoil I face every single time. I live in fear—a fear of failure. I'm like a performer on stage, always facing a crowd, showing no weakness, and showcasing many talents. I am entertaining and pleasing people 24/7. Despite this, there are many things I hide behind the curtains. Backstage, I meet someone, though I can't really tell if I should describe it as a person. It's more of a something... something I've ignored for a long time, something so familiar. I never thought I would encounter it again. The thought of it haunting me honestly sends chills down my spine. So, I thought of ignoring it once again to continue performing without a hint of vulnerability. I knew it would go away and leave me alone somehow; that's how it had always been anyway... or so I thought. As I was performing, I could hear the faint sound of footsteps coming from the stairs of the stage. "No, no, it can't be," I thought. This was so messed up. Why was it back? I thought I had gotten rid of it for a while. The pressure built up as I performed on stage. It was slowly creeping its way up to me. No, not while I'm still entertaining people. Leave me alone. Suddenly, it made its way behind me. "Leave me alone, I can't do it if you're around." The same thoughts kept echoing in my head. My head was starting to ache as my heart began to pound harder in my chest. It was as if the figure was strangling me. I could hardly breathe. I knew I was going to fail and make a wrong move. Everyone would notice. Everyone would know that this was just a facade. I couldn't let them think I was weak. I couldn't let them think I was afraid. It would be too obvious. Until I came to a realization. The fear was never a physical figure; it was the intense stares I got from the audience. Nothing was creeping up behind me. It was just... a feeling. A feeling of pressure from people who watch my every move. If I made a mistake, I knew I wouldn't perform well again, simply because I'd be ashamed of myself. Turns out, it wasn't fear that I was trying to run away from. I was running away from myself—my very own identity. After playing multiple roles, I forgot who I am. I've always played the image of a hardworking and gifted student, but never the girl who simply loved learning. — ms. kae 2024 (note: I wrote this piece back in 2024. I was in 10th Grade back then. I honestly questioned myself a lot during this time, and I'm glad I overcame that same fear.)

Napaisip ka ba kung saan nanggagaling ang mga kalyo sa ating mga kamay? Kung oo, ito’y madalas na nakukuha mula sa iba’t ibang gawain natin sa bawat araw. Ganiyan kasi ang mga kamay ng aking ama. Puro kalyo. Pangit man ang mga kamay niya sa paningin ng iba, sa aking mga mata, ito’y simbolo ng kaniyang mga sakripisyo. Madalas tanghali na siya kung gumising dahil madaling araw na siya nakakatulog. Kaya naman, sa bawat tanghali na gigisingin ko siya, ang kaniyang mga kamay ang lagi kong unang napapansin. Puro kulubot, puro sugat—puro kalyo. Alam kong ito’y resulta ng kaniyang pagtatrabaho, ngunit alam ko rin na may mas malalim pang dahilan kung bakit ganoon ang mga kamay niya. Ang aking ama ay kasalukuyang 59 na taong gulang. Isang taon na lang, senior citizen na siya. Bagama’t siya’y tumatanda na at nanghihina, lagi niyang sinasabi na hindi siya puwedeng tumigil o mawala hangga’t hindi pa kaming magkakapatid nakakatapos sa pag-aaral. Dahil sa simpleng pangungusap na iyon, napagtanto ko na ang mga kalyo sa kaniyang mga kamay ay hindi lamang dahil sa pagtatrabaho, kundi dahil na rin sa kaniyang pagmamahal. Kahit minsa’y hirap na hirap na siya, tinitiis niya ang lahat. Lagi niyang inuuna ang mga bagay na nagpapasaya sa amin kaysa sa mga bagay na gusto niya para sa kaniyang sarili. Kaya tuwing naglalaan siya ng oras para sa kaniyang mga hilig, lubos akong natutuwa. Kadalasan kasi, iyon ang mga bagay na hindi niya nagawa noong bata pa siya—mga pangarap na matagal niyang isinantabi. Kaya naman, ako’y lubos na nagpapasalamat dahil siya ang naging ama ko. Minamahal niya ako, sinusuportahan, at handang magsakripisyo para sa aming magkakapatid. Kung may pagkakataon na makakita ka ng taong puro kalyo ang kamay, huwag mo siyang husgahan. Tanungin mo muna ang iyong sarili, “Ano kaya ang mga sakripisyo niya?” Dahil sa aking ama, naniwala ako na ang bawat kalyo ay may malalim na kuwento. Ikaw, may mga kalyo ka ba? — ms. kae [08.27.26] thank you for reading! this was written as a dedication to all people who work hard for those they love. the translation is on Substack! btw, this is also my first time writing a Filipino piece, haha note: kalyo means callus in English