I look back at the past 27 years, especially my teenage years, and I remember thinking to myself how hard it is to live in my shoes. Remembering this, in my mind, I see my younger self in glimpses; crying myself to sleep, struggling to get out of bed every day while muttering “ayoko na,” over-eating or not eating at all, being scared or worried or anxious or paranoid, thinking that I will never be good enough, being insecure about the way I look, and constantly overthinking every damn thing. It was such a hard time.

The worst part was that no one, not even my closest friends, knew what I was going through. I’ve always kept things to myself because I was so used to hearing “nag-iinarte lang yan” whenever I speak out my feelings even when I was still a little girl, so I never really knew what having a support system felt like. People who know me since then knows how mentally and emotionally damaged I am to the point that someone even asked me, “Who hurt you?” Continue reading →