seasonally ok

Before we start…open spotify or Apple Music and search for “Pure Shores” by All Saints.

Got it? Ok.

As someone who grew up in the Philippines, i only knew two seasons. Wet & dry. Or…hot and hotter. And so i feel i only had two moods. Happy and happier. Or good and better. These moods or personalities were heavily dictated by how I grew up.

I am the youngest child of both my mom and dad, but i grew up only with my mom. My dad left when i was three and he was a compilation of stories that i pieced together from my older brother, my mom, my uncles and everyone who had the pleasure of spending time with him-but me. I obviously put him on a high pedestal because i grew up in the 90s where Disney movies were not just a weekend habit but a way of life. And as i secretly convinced my young mind that, i too, was a Disney princess of some sort…it made perfect sense to me that my dad didn’t want to leave but had to. I was also enrolled in a very conservative, Catholic school. I followed every rule in the book and went home earlier than anyone i knew because that was what my mom told me to do. On the weekends, I’d spend my time with my best friends in our village, Natalie or Wendy but on Sundays, I would prepare for the Kingdom Hall. My mom has been a practicing Jehovah’s Witness since before i was born and i grew up in the safety of our congregation. What i lacked in a father figure was filled by the idea that Jehovah God was filling in as my father. And i still believe that to this day. We did service three times a week. Two hours on Sundays for the watchtower study and the public talk. An hour on Tuesdays for our CBS or congregational book study. And two hours every thursday for our Theocratic Ministry. I loved attending our meetings. I grew up quite simple. I had a lot of female cousins older than me and i would get the best hand me downs. But kingdom hall clothes were special. My mom would even bring me to a modiste at a very young age so i could get custom fit, modest dresses and department store bought sandals to match. And every year for our Memorial Service (when we celebrate the death of Jesus Christ and effectively our freedom) i would get a new outfit. Memorial for us is equivalent to Christmas for you, if that explains it better. My days were filled by rules and standards that i told myself i had to abide by. The friends and cousins i grew up with had a relatively more relaxed upbringing, and some had gone astray one way or another, but i never had any room to fail. So like i said….happy or happier…good or better…let me add to that, blessed and grateful and forever in your service.

Now go back to Spotify or Apple Music and listen to “Transatlanticism” by Deathcab For Cutie. Ill wait. But please come back, i have more to say.

When i was first discovered to work as an actress at 16, i was fresh out of high school with zero life experience. I was always told that i acted older than my age but only because i was very prim and proper and i was more quiet than those around me. But boy did my eyes peel open to the world. Kids younger than me would be smoking at the rooftop of our network. 14 year olds were in steady relationships (meanwhile my mom would still read my messages every night to check that i was in line.) and my peers were breadwinners. The world was suddenly upside down for me. To have remained steadfast in that environment wasnt the easiest thing, but it was doable. Everything is doable. Obviously, now in 2023, there are so many things that have changed, and the world is much more open than it ever has been, and my mind too has been more forgiving to me and to how things happen, but i do have to admit that i still stay in line.

I buried myself in work. You guys all know this and i can never shut up about it. But only because its the only way i can justify the life i have now where im not as active in our congregation. I also got to travel a whole lot more. I traveled a few times alone at a very young age to visit my dad. (I had seen him more when i started to earn my own salary and i could buy myself my own tickets and as much as i hate to say it, i built our relationship) But the places ive been to because of my work, i never thought i would go to. I am probably the most well traveled now in our huge family…or the friends i grew up with…and everytime i leave and consider a new island or city or country “home” (as i always sentimentally do) i break a little corner of my heart because i either always want to stay for good but also because i feel further and further away from the people that were familiar to me.

In traveling too, i started experiencing seasons. Spring is my favorite. The earth feels happy. The soil smells sweeter and the wind is still cold enough to remind you of winter but it is bearable enough to make you think of summer. Summer is home. Its what i grew up with and its what i know the most. I am in my element in summer. Autumn /fall is the worst. Its depressing for me. Its beautiful, but it reminds me of death. I know that the natural progression of trees and flowers are to eventually wilt and fall to preserve and keep the the main trunk/plant alive, but i silently weep when i see leaves and petals decaying on the ground. (I never thought I would have the capacity to feel this much for trees.) Funnily, winter is limbo. It’s a state of nothingness for me. Its brutally cold and the days are short but i don’t necessarily get sad because of it…maybe a bit indifferent? But these seasons have embedded themselves into my DNA. The same as when i was only happy or happier in Manila, i have now become an up and down mess of emotions and questions with the four seasons of London that i now call home. (Btw, London is not as gloomy as they paint it to be.)

I think what im trying to say, is that i have changed. From the impressionable 16 year old with no life experiences, i am now 32…jaded and hopeful but in a weird headspace. I have come full circle but am extremely tired. A good friend of mine told me that i pretty much saved her during the pandemic. I would give her pep talks and would constantly reassure her that all would be ok. And im thankful that she feels that way but that wasnt new to me then. Because i was that girl. The girl who was almost too optimistic. And suddenly, i am not her anymore. And i grieve for her departure and would honestly prefer to be the person constantly giving pep talks to the people around me (some of whom were probably not listening)…but i am now on the other side of that table. And i see myself as autumn right now. My dreams, hopes, ideas and beliefs are all on the floor. And i weep for them. I weep when i see new places because i see their beauty but never mine reflected back at me. And i weep at places ive been to before, because i cant feel the same joy in seeing them for the first time again. i have stopped listening to songs i love because they dont feel like they were written for me anymore like i used to believe.

And i hate to be writing this because i hate not being ok, but my days are so quiet that my thoughts have become too loud. And i need to release some of the noise thats been eating me up. I could spend entire afternoons wandering, never uttering a word because i exist among strangers, and i, too, am a stranger in return. And there is such a breathtaking beauty in all of this, im just too absorbed in it to see and appreciate it. And the silence is scary. It talks back to your doubts and reaffirms your worst misconceptions. and this will probably come surprising to most of you readers because i function normally when i need to. But every second word i need to say comes with paragraphs of questions in my mind. I dont even know anymore if i should have a voice.

At the moment, i just need the world to move quicker so i could finally be spring. But i am not the earth and my seasons aren’t dictated by hours and days and weeks and months. I cant predict when i will be happy and happier in summer again or what spring will be like because i have never become her. And i am afraid of the indifference that i will exclude on my winter days.

i am sorry if this has been too heavy. Ill make it up to you by leaving you one of my favorite songs. Go back to Spotify or Apple Music and play “Oysters In My Pocket” by Royel Otis that i would have loved to dance to, a lifetime ago.