Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Saturday, May 09, 2009

Realizations


Part of the Bibbulmun Track going through Pemberton's karri forest, Pemberton WA.
Taken with my Nikon D40.


I got this off a Facebook tag that one of my friends completed. Since I've always loved those sentence completion psych evaluations, it was too good to resist.

But apart from being such a good writing prompt (yes, I am still smack dab in the middle of writer's block), I like its congruence with my current thoughts as I look back on this past year - and look forward to growing another year older, if not much wiser.

1. I've come to realize that my hands... do good work.

2. I've come to realize that my job... is something that I actually enjoy most days despite my protests to the contrary.

3. I've come to realize that when I'm driving... I am comfortable with not really knowing exactly where I'm going and enjoy the journey wherever it takes me - even if I get lost every now and then.

4. I've come to realize that I need... to be more confident in myself about what I can do and what I can offer and be proud of how far I've come - and be less reliant on the approval and opinion of others.

5. I've come to realize that I've lost... some tinting off my rose-colored glasses.

6. I've come to realize that I hate it when... people don't do what they say they're going to do when they say they're going to do it.

7. I've come to realize that the person/people I like... give me a different perspective of life as I know it.

8. I've come to realize that money... makes it easier for a doctor in training not to feel pressured about getting to the next level of training.

9. I've come to realize that people... respond well to being wished a good day, even by a complete stranger.

10. I've come to realize that I'll always be... a person who will value having roots.

12. I've come to realize that my mom... does the best she can.

13. I've come to realize that my cell phone... is often better off inside my locker the whole day.

14. I came to realize when I woke up this morning... that I'd have another sleepless night tonight. Arrrgh, night shifts!

15. I came to realise last night before I went to sleep that... I am causing my muscles to tighten up by sleeping on the office chairs.

16. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking about... whether or not I'm ready to move on to the next level - and another place - and I'm terrified.

17. I've come to realize that my dad... means well but worries too much.

18. I've come to realize that when I get on Facebook... it closes the distance between me and my friends.

19. I've come to realize that today... I've put off doing things that needed doing - again.

20. I've come to realize that tonight... I will be working again.

21. I've come to realize that tomorrow... is overbooked with friend-time after having days upon days to myself this past week.

22. I've come to realize that I really want to... explore the possibilities for a while longer.

23. I've come to realize that life... is much richer when you go at it full on.

24. I've come to realize that this weekend... is such a gift of fine weather on what should be the middle of fall. Yes, my beaches beckon!

25. I've come to realize that (my ex) all my "never was-es"... was just Fate's way of leading me here.

26. I've realized the best music to listen to when I am upset... would be something I can sing to.

27. I've come to realize that my friends... the real ones, will always be my friends.

28. I've come to realize that the past year... has seen my life open up in ways I never imagined.

29. I've come to realize that the last person I kissed... sadly, I probably won't get to kiss again.

30. I've come to realize that when people walk out of my life... they leave a space that no one else will ever be able to fill.

31. I've come to realize that my most memorable age was when I was... this year. :)

32. I've come to realize I will not trade... financial security for happiness.

33. I've come to realize that I like... being me.

34. I've come to realize that I cannot leave home without... a sense of adventure and a sense of humor.

35. I've come to realize that the sports I like... I have to completely zone in to - and lets me forget everything else going on in my life while I'm doing them.

36. I've come to realize that the top three things I find attractive are...
someone with an insight born of having lived life to the full and appreciating all that he's experienced so far, a sense of humour, and a positive outlook.

37. I've come to realize that ... even at my age, I'm young - and life has really just begun.


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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A Song for the Meantime



It's probably a reflection of the loss of my expressive abilities that I constantly relate my life-in-progress to existing songs. I guess it's easier for me to use someone else's words and music rather than thinking up some of my own - because it's not as if I would be saying anything that hasn't been said before.

These days, I've obviously taken to channeling Sarah Mclachlan. Her haunting voice and the poetry of her songs are a perfect foil to where I am at the moment. The song that follows is from her "Afterglow" album, which is, for me, probably her best one. Moody, brooding, painfully honest songs that hit the heart of the matter, dead center.

Some things, like heartbreak and music, are simply universal.

Stupid
Sarah McLachlan

Night lift up the shades
let in the brilliant light of morning
but steady there now
for I am weak and starving for mercy
sleep has left me alone
to carry the weight of unravelling where we went wrong
it's all I can do to hang on
to keep me from falling
into old familiar shoes

how stupid could I be
a simpleton could see
that you're no good for me
but you're the only one I see

love has made me a fool
it set me on fire and watched as I floundered
unable to speak
except to cry out and wait for your answer
but you come around in your time
speaking of fabulous places
create an oasis
dries up as soon as you're gone
you leave me here burning
in this desert without you

how stupid could I be
a simpleton could see
that you're no good for me
but you're the only one I see

everything changes
everything falls apart
can't stop to feel myself losing control
but deep in my senses I know

how stupid could I be
a simpleton could see
that you're no good for me
but you're the only one I see


There's no point in fighting these things, really. All that's left is to ride it out and hope that this song for the meantime will change - and soon.
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Monday, March 09, 2009

Landing with a Splat

Modern pop culture will never run out of material to peddle romantic love upon hapless, easily influenced people. Whether it's in the form of the ubiquitous boy-meets-girl-and-they-live-happily-ever-after rom com movie, the prolific body of romance fiction, the music we listen to, the ads we see... yes, the whole process of falling in love has been beaten to death - and yet, we all still suck it in.

What they don't tell you, though, is that for a good number of people in the world, the whole romantic love thing often ends with one landing with one huge splat.

It's so easy to be cynical about the whole love thing these days. How can't I be when I'm surrounded by long-standing relationships falling apart? I recently took care of a patient who had recently divorced his wife of more than 50 years - he's 73. How does anyone get divorced at 73? Talk about disposable.

I've always been pretty pragmatic about relationships, consistently leading with my head rather than my heart, whether I am viewing others' romances or my long string of never-was-es. Despite never being in one myself, serious or otherwise, I know it takes a lot of hard work and commitment to make things work. But even then, there are still no guarantees.

It makes me wonder sometimes why people even bother trying.

The odd thing is, though, there's still a part of me that believes it is possible. Possible to fall without landing in a big, messy splat. Possible to make things work and go the distance. Possible for relationships to survive even when the amorphous Hollywood love has faded away and grown to become the real thing. And when it does happen - and thankfully I've seen this, too - it's a wonderful thing to see.

Besides, as one wise friend of mine says, "No one has really ever died from a broken heart. You can cry a little, hurt a lot, and then you get over it. You always get over it - and come away stronger and wiser besides."

So maybe that's why, despite the odds, people still keep trying. Because part of us all want to believe it can be possible. And because anyone who is too afraid to let himself fall will also never experience what it's like to fly.

I hope someday I can meet someone who makes me forget all about the ground so far below, just waiting for me to crash land. It must be wonderful to leap off that edge and just let your heart fly.



A late, very late, submission to Em Dy's TBR Round Up on Love.
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Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Coming into Her Own


video by carine23

It's strange how things sometimes conspire to remind me of certain life lessons that I still need learning - all within the same week.

It all began with this blog entry by my blog buddy and romance guru, Evil Woobie.

Having written about singlehood on and off over the past few months - mainly because it's one of the circumstances that tilted the scales towards taking this particular life adventure I am currently on - I couldn't resist posting a comment to her post in reply.

it’s a cliche that everything happens for a reason, but i believe it - and that all the events in my life so far have led me to where i am today… a happy place to be. :)

i am so happy i had the chance to do this on-my-own thing and discover that i can be this person - strong, independent, and ready to take on anything. achievements aside, looks aside, and relationship-status aside, i know i’ll always have that under my belt and it is an accomplishment i will always be proud of. :)


I don't think that I've sounded as well-adjusted as that in a long time. (My long-time friends might even attest that I've probably NEVER sounded that well-adjusted, as I have always lived with the cloud of my myriad neuroses hanging over my head.)

But while I am certainly in a good place at the moment, there are days when it doesn't take a lot to propel me outside my happy place. It's probably because I've been so used to being so down on myself for so long that actually feeling good about me takes a lot of getting used to. And sometimes I have to fight quite hard to keep the negative voices from drowning out my inner cheerleader in training. Specially when the snarky comments come from important people in my life who sometimes say things that chip away at me simply because they don't know any better.

In keeping with my current lesson plan, I had such a moment just a few days after my enlightened comment on Woobie's blog.

For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was tumbling into the same old self-destructive pattern I've gotten used to for years - defensiveness and defiance. But, in a surprising victory for my inner cheerleader, I suddenly realized that what these people said didn't matter.

Because, for the first time in a long time, I actually feel dang good about me.

I'm brave. I'm strong. Life stretches out before me that's still filled with all sorts of possibility. And I kick ass.

And no one can ever take that feeling away from me but me.

Lots of people grow up knowing this simple truth - but what can I say? I'm a very slow learner.

It's high time I let my inner cheerleader come into her own - and give her room to dance.

* * * *

Post Script: This song is currently on tops on my "Girl Power" list at the moment. I love it because it has such a positive and powerful message. And it's also very true. I was looking for the original music video to embed on this post, but I think this slideshow I found on YouTube pretty much does the trick.

Don’t Need You To (Tell Me I’m Pretty)
Samantha Mumba

I don't need you to
Tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful
I don't need you to
give me your strength
To make me feel I'm strong

I got all of this strength that I need
here inside my own two hands
All that I want is your love and respect for who I am
What I really need comes from deep inside of me

Don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful, no
Don't need you to make me strong, cause I’m strong all on my own
Doesn't come from outside
This beauty I know
Comes from inside my soul

I don't need you to
believe in me to make me know I'm worth believing in
I don't need you to
lift me up high to know I can stand tall

I can stand my own ground, I can stand proud upon my own two feet
Don't have to be part of somebody else to be complete
What I really need
Comes from deep inside of me

Don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful, no
Don't need you to make me strong, cause I’m strong all on my own
Doesn't come from outside
This beauty I know
Comes from inside my soul

Don't need to come to you for confirmation
Because I finally found this revelation
What I really need I’m gonna find inside of me
Not in somebody else
Respect, comes when you respect yourself

Don't need you to tell me I’m pretty
To know I’m beautiful


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Saturday, September 13, 2008

The Last Word on This - For Now

A stuffed up internet connection that went kaput on me just as my friends were beginning to have on-line conversations with me about the two previous posts didn't keep this particular email from getting through.

I've paraphrased some things for clarity and to protect the identity of the writer (but by her choices some will know her ;P), but I asked her if she would be okay with posting her email in its entirety. Here's her argument for the multitudes of women who choose to "waste the pretty" and why it's alright.

Being an avid follower of your blog, I paid close attention to your post about "He's not just that into you." Perhaps this is just me being too predictable - because if there's anyone the title of that book is directed to, it's me. and I'm guilty as charged.

I got a copy of that book back in May, as a gift for myself on someone else's birthday. I went to a bayside nook and kept an appointment with myself just to read it because I thought it would be liberating. But I was not even halfway through it when i junked it and picked another reading material instead.

First of all, it's not applicable for Filipinos! there's a chapter there saying "if he likes you, he'll have sex with you all the time." Bwahaha! Ridiculous in our setting, right? And there are a lot of other things there that just don't apply, and are even contrary to what i think is right or proper. I think it was in the introduction or the preface when both authors cautioned us that the concepts in the book apply to the "usual" males. And I mean, duh! I, for one, wouldn't even bother if the guy is just normal! And I refuse to be plain "normal" myself.

As one of our teachers once said, "normal" is just an arbitrarily derived population-based mean. It's a bell shaped curve. If you don't fall within the interval where most people are, then you are no longer normal. Who wants to be in the middle of that bell shaped curve anyway? As for me, I will not settle for normal. That's the one thing my system just rebels against.

It's not that I'm defending my follies. I agree with the main concept of the book - that we have to love ourselves enough and not settle for someone who can't make us feel as special as we truly are. There are some huge important truths in his ideas. I do think a lot of his examples make women look too stupid. And too normal. hehehe. I really don't think most of them are real.

For me, it's okay to remain romantic and dreamy - but with your feet firmly grounded. And whatever choice you make, it should only bring out the best in you. So in the long run, even if "he's just not that into you," and you took a risk on him, you should still turn out to be a better person. You will still be that fearless, special, fabulous, intelligent female that you truly are. Maybe in the end, you will realize that you were really not that into him either. But having things not work out doesn't really hurt you because that previous delusion actually made you better.

Maybe deep down, I'm still a romantic, quirkyalone who prefers the oyster i picked even if it's an empty one. I'd even keep the shell. So sue me!


As someone who has chosen to "waste the pretty" on some really huge illusions and delusions, this perspective somewhat comforting. And true. I think we all come out of any experience like this a stronger, better person regardless of the outcome. And still hopeful, thankfully. Always still hopeful.

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Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Variations on the Single Theme

photo by me from the "water" set


An anonymous reader posted a thought-provoking comment to my previous post about the book He's Just Not That Into You and how it's sort of pegged my hopes (not that high to begin with) even lower to a new level of low when it comes to men.

So by accepting the "new all time low" are you deducing it's best to "not waste the pretty" until it wastes itself?


Very good question - to which, at the moment, I honestly have no clear answer.

"Wasting the pretty" is very closely related to the concept of settling. Basically, the premise is that women should recognize what they're worth and shouldn't settle for someone who isn't going to treat them way they deserve to be treated. Neither should they stay in a relationship that is half-baked just so that they can be in a relationship. The book's premise is that women shouldn't waste the pretty because they are going to miss on the opportunity to find someone who is more worthy of the pretty.

Of course those of us who have been more or less single all of our lives know just how easy that actually is. All I have to say about that is one big, "Whatever." But I digress.

I am enjoying my single life enough to know that even if I am single for the rest of it, it wouldn't end my world. It is possible to be alone and be happy. And in that sense, choosing not to settle - ergo, not to waste the pretty - and holding out for the real deal that may or may not come along is hardly letting the pretty waste itself.

I started this year writing about choosing to be a quirkyalone - "a person who enjoys being single(but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating for the sake of being in a couple. With unique traits and an optimistic spirit; a sensibility that transcends relationship status."

But to be honest, there are days when I sometimes feel that I am just trying to convince myself that I am happy being single. Having been brought up and socialized the conventional way, I have been conditioned to want the usual things - to meet a decent guy who I'd want to settle down with, get married, start a family, etc. I won't deny that I still want that, even if I am enjoying living my current "out-of-the-box" life.

But I also refuse to settle for anything less than what I could have or deserve to have. There's still a part of me that holds on to the hope that there is someone out there who fulfills all my non-negotiables and is being prepared by Fate or by God just for me, for real, forever. Maybe these are unrealistic expectations for someone like me at this stage in my life, but I still choose to hold on to them.

So, yes, underneath all my cynicism I still choose to be an optimist - at least for now.

Will my answer change in a few years, when those creeping fears about growing old alone come more often in the night? I hope not. It's hard to say with finality what it is that one would choose to make compromises on in the light of trying to get something you really want. I guess it also boils down to what you want for yourself in the long term. But I sincerely hope not.

I guess there really are no easy answers to this kind of question. I know that if I think in terms of odds, they aren't really stacked in my favor. Yet I choose to think in terms of faith right now - faith that no matter how things turn out, whether or not I find a guy who is worthy of the pretty or whether I live the rest of my life as a fancy-free single lady, it will be what really is best for me.

In the end, happiness and fulfillment really depends on how you choose to live your life - and I hope to continue living my life as fully as I can regardless. And, as I have already said, choosing to make the most of every day I am given is hardly letting the pretty waste itself.

Besides, I'm finally beginning to realize that I do, in fact, have a lot of pretty to spare. And that's a pretty great lesson to begin learning at this point in my life, don't you agree? :)

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Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Feeding the Cynic



Knowing my already ambivalent attitude towards men in the context of a romantic relationship, my friends were the first to tell me to stay away from this book. A long history of disastrous (non)relationships and unrequited whatevers, watching the romantic disasters befalling my friends, and being around "real guys" much of the time have turned me into too much of a cynic as it is. The last thing I needed was more fuel to the flame - and "He's Just Not That Into You" is just that.

Being the contrary person that I am, I read it anyway.

Often times harsh, occasionally laugh-out-lout funny, but always very honest, Greg Behrendt decodes the motives of guys who disappear, guys who don't call when they say they do, guys who just "want to be friends" but with benefits and other variations on the same theme and give us puzzled women the bottom line in no uncertain terms: "He's just not that into you." Liz Tucillo, who co-authors the book and stands for all the other single women who have ever been in this boat, tackles the reason why it's so hard to swallow Greg's advice - and why we should.

It's a "he-said-she-said" approach that is no-nonsense and gets the message across. And, when all is said and done, the real message that they want to send across is that women should not "waste the pretty."

As I flipped through the pages of the book, I couldn't help a wince here and there as I recognized myself not just as a person on the receiving end of "he's not just that into you" behavior, but as the friend who has spent hours on end with another friend analyzing her relationship problems and throwing out myriad, hope-inflating what-if speculations. True, even before the book, I was always more the hold-your-horses-are-you-sure-you-can-trust-this-guy devil's advocate when my friends would gush to me about guys they are excited about, but being a closet romantic, I was capable of optimism.

I may be a master of not getting my hopes up, but this book sort of sets the standard to an all-new low.

I think women have always really known the bottom line, we just haven't been happy to accept it. So there is a certain degree of freedom gained by being slapped all of this in the face and seeing everything in black and white. Then again, there's always something to be said about living in denial - it's a lot less painful there.

Okay, okay, I know relationships are a lot more complicated than that, it's impossible to generalize, blah, blah, blah. Maybe your guy has a good excuse for not calling. Or maybe he really just isn't ready to put a label on your whatever-it-is. But I think that this book's premise is worth looking at specially if you've been putting your life on hold for a good long while - it just may give you a new perspective.

I, for one, am planning on getting some post-it, writing "Don't waste the pretty" on it, and putting it up somewhere I can see it every day. Maybe if I repeat it to myself often enough, I'll get it.

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Friday, August 29, 2008

Back from the Tag Grave

Due to my status as an adjusting ex-pat, my blog life hasn't been quite as active as it's been. I am touched and gratified that people (Manggy in particular!) continue to visit and comment despite my being so delinquent. As a way of saying thanks, I'm playing a bit of tag with some of you - using something I've blatantly tagged myself from Abaniko's site.

The tag: Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given. Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know each of them a little bit better.

Family.

Friends.

Myself.

Love.

Anything.

I tag Panaderos, Ris, Em Dy, Woobie, and Ness for this one.

Okay, now back to regular ex-pat-Pinay-doctor-adjusting-to-life-abroad programming! :)

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Saturday, April 05, 2008

Wistfully Seeking Happily Ever After

photo from deviant art


Ris gave me an idea for a pretty thought-provoking, candid post without having to write too coherently. For someone who's wired on too little sleep after waking up way too early, it was a godsend.

I know, I know, you're thinking, "What another meme?" Not exactly. But humor me... it really does get interesting. And since Ris didn't really tag me, I'm not obliged to tag you either. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure you'll want to take your turn at it after you read it, just to satisfy your curiosity about you.

Haven't you ever wondered about your image choices have to say about you? If you have, you can also take this scarily insightful little LoveDNA test.



I'm borrowing another page from Ris' blog by uploading image captures of my results to share with you guys. How on the money is it? As I said, it's scarily insightful. I'll let my results speak for themselves. (If you have a hard time reading the text on the images, you can find the results by clicking the preceding link or clicking the images to see larger versions of them.)











I guess despite everything, this closet romantic is still wistfully seeking happily ever after.

What's your LoveDNA?

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Sunday, March 30, 2008

Two Weddings and a Funeral

photo by annpar


To say that this past week has been an eventful one for me is king of understatement.

I attended the weddings of two good friends of mine, who, without consulting each other, scheduled their weddings only a week apart. In between these two weddings, I attended my mother's brother at his deathbed when he passed away from complications of lung cancer.

Having a ringside view to these major life events in such a short span of time has been exhausting and exhilarating, but a learning experience.

Both my friends M and K have love stories born from the unexpected - underscoring once more how life never fails to surprise. M's story began in the PGH delivery room, where she and her groom met while rotating in Obstetrics and fell in love while flirting over pregnant mothers in labor. K was reunited with the college sweetheart she broke with up after he left for the US with when she, in turn, chose to pursue her career there, too.

They were both beautiful and radiant brides, and anyone could see how happy they were as they began their new journey with their equally joyful husbands. It was a joy to watch them both surrounded by friends and family and blessed with the good wishes of everyone around them.

I realize, that for all my claims at cynicism, I am still a hopeless romantic and am counting on happily-ever-afters for both M and K. The gravity of the commitment they have made to their life partners is, to me, mind-boggling. The words, "To have and hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part" are easy enough to say, but they are much harder to stand by - as current divorce statistics painfully emphasize. But with love as their ballast, I am hopeful that both couples will go the distance.

I was witness to another kind of journey when my uncle, who was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer a few months ago, passed away en route to the hospital where we were bringing him for rapidly progressing pneumonia.

I was not very close to him, only seeing him a few times a year at best. But these past few months I have been, as the only doctor in the family, privy to the course of his illness and the difficult decisions his family has had to make because of it. While they were sad to see him go, it was equally difficult to see him as a pain-filled shadow of the man he was. They had decided early on that there would be no aggressive measures to revive him when the time came.

As a doctor, I have lost count of the number of times I have attended dying patients. We are no strangers to death nor grief. But I cannot begin to describe how I felt as I listened to the last faint beats of his heart until it finally stopped or when I had to break the news to the family that he was gone. Their grief was tempered by the relief of knowing that he was no longer suffering, and I saw once more the serenity that follows gracefully letting go.

But what struck me most was how each person's milestone event is a wonderful place to see love in all its forms - between parent and child, sisters and brothers, friends, lovers... and, for those who believe, the God's love that threads through it all. Whether it is a birth or a death, an ending or a beginning, a welcome or a farewell, these occasions celebrate love in action.

These milestones are reminders that Life is fleeting and frail, change its only constant companion, and that we must grab joy as it comes. But in the face of it all, we are reminded that love endures - and we are blessed to be rich with it.

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Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Pinay MDs on Singlehood


While I am no longer living in the bitter barn this morning, the touchy topic of impending spinsterhood is still on my mind.

I've blogged about this topic several times, in varying moods, both in a positive and negative way. Inspired by Em Dy's comment about how lay people have a hard time understanding the dilemma of the single female doctor and as a spot check to see if I was going back to my old habit of unhealthily fixating about it, I turned to the blogosphere to see what my other single Pinay sisters in the profession had to say about their state of life.

Apparently, it's something they've also found worth blogging about. It's a celebration of us as women first and doctors last.

Doc Whisperer, a Pinay allergologist based in New York, writes about the alarming rate of suicides among single female doctors. On a more positive note, she shares with us an article about the Quirkyalone phenomenon.

Midnight Rainbow, a family medicine physician, talks about her own mortifying moment as a single woman under scrutiny in Tales from the Atretic Follicle Society.

Lalaloo, an internist-in-training, names one very real problem facing single Pinay doctors today - The Limited Selection Syndrome.

Kamoteng Myra, another young Pinay doctor based in the States, writes about a single person's ideal pet.

Kai, soon to be an internist-in-training as well, talks about men and shoes - or men as shoes - in Feet Freedom.

Doctor Angel-No-More on The Doctor is Out jots down her list of 49 Things to Do Before She Gets Married.

Tina, a US-based Pinay pediatrician, shares her empowering view celebrating the joys of being single and free in The Spinster Returns.

Finally, Em Dy gives us her own wise take on How to Be Happy.

Before I engaged in it regularly, I didn't understand the lure of journaling on-line. Even a compulsive writer like myself would be wary of spilling my guts on the world wide web, ready for everyone to feed on. After all, neurosis should be a private thing. But finding my voice through blogging has also taught me to hear the voices of others like me, and in this way helped me find friends in strangers and realize that I am not quite so alone.

These posts are as honest and as real as they can get. It underscores once more that while we all have a unique perspective on things, our concerns and struggles are very much the same.

And, yes, I'm feeling so much better now.

* * * *

If you are a Filipina doctor with a blog post on being single, please let me know through a comment - and I will gladly add your thoughts to the list.
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Monday, March 17, 2008

A Night in the Bitter Barn

this photo uploaded by Carhan on Flickr


You know that your family is desperate for you to get off the road to spinsterhood (a.k.a. matandang dalaga in Filipino) when you're told the following in the same mortifying conversation -

"Dapat naman kasi mag-ayos-ayos ka na, para naman mapansin ka. Papayat ka na kasi!" (You really should fix yourself up so that men will notice you. Lose weight!) - my mother.

"Pinagdadasal ko na nga sana naman makahanap na ng boyfriend." (I've been praying that you would finally find a boyfriend.) - a meddling aunt.

"Wag ka mag-alala, pag pumunta ka doon amin yung pinsan mo madami mga kaibigang lalaki, sasabihan na namin ipakilala na sa iyo." (Don't worry, if you come to visit us, your cousin has a lot of male friends, we'll tell her to introduce you.) - a sympathetic, if tactless, uncle.

All this is punctuated by an exchange of worried glances, the meaning of which they might as well have screamed, Poor child. What the heck is WRONG with her? There must be something we can do!

It's bad enough that I know they talk about the barren wasteland that is my love life behind my back. That they have now begun expressing their unsolicited opinion about my singlehood to my face underscores the depth of their concern. And the fact that my mother is encouraging any and all of her relatives to please find her eldest, aging daughter a date is enough to make me want to sink through the floor.

It doesn't seem that long ago when my well-meaning relatives - most specially my mother - were telling me to put any thoughts of a love life in the backseat. Be a good girl and concentrate on my studies first, they said. You'll have time for romantic pursuits when you're older, they said. Concentrate on the more important things first. Yeah, right.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming them for my state of singleness - the reasons for this particular state of my life is multi-factorial. I just find it painfully funny that they are now desperately seeking my Mr. Right after all those years of praying I wouldn't find him just yet. You know, because of all the things I had to take care of first (i.e. getting my medical degree, finishing residency).

Now they think that just because I've finally gotten everything else out of the way, it's high time I started looking for a - you guessed it! - potential husband. News flash, folks - most of the men in my age group are already married, are soon-to-be-married, or are wonderful and gay. Men do not grow on trees, and, even if they did, I am not the kind of woman who could happily pick them up and go my merry way. If only it were that easy...

Apparently, my family has never heard of the saying, "Be careful what you wish for."

Remember when I said that my degree of optimism about being a quirkyalone waxes and wanes? Well, today it's definitely on the wane. I can't lie and say I've never wanted all those things they want for me for myself - because I have. And, believe me, I've whipped myself about it and guessed and second-guessed some more about what I did or what I didn't do to end up alone like this. I guess love just comes hard for some people. Or it just doesn't come at all.

It's hard enough to battle with the demons of self-doubt and the fear of never finding anyone to share my life with without having to add their voices to the mix. I love them and I know they mean well, but sometimes I really wish they would just leave me alone.

Looks like I'm sleeping in the bitter barn tonight. Someone please throw me a rope and help me get out of here.


* * * *

"Oh the fear I've known -
That I might reap the praise of strangers
And end up on my own
All I've sown was a song
But maybe I was wrong...

... I'm working through the grammar of my fears
oh mercy,to have the things that mean the most
Not to mean the things I miss..."


- Language or the Kiss - Indigo Girls



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Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Surfing the Bridal Wave

this photo of pro surfer Quincy Adams by Hankins

My friend M texted me the other day asking if we could meet up so she could give me the invite to our blockmate K's wedding, set for the end of the month. Confused by her message, since as far as I knew only our other blockmate R had plans of getting married this March, I called her up to check if she had gotten her text wrong. Nothing wrong about it - K was definitely getting hitched the week after R. K's will be the fourth wedding I will be attending in as many months. I have at least two more weddings lined up for this year after hers.

It looks like this is going to be my year to ride the Bridal Wave.

"Bridal Wave" is a term coined by authors Erin Torneo and Valerie Cabrera Krause for that period of time in every woman's life when everyone she knows and their cousin are all getting married. The romantic comedy 27 Dresses gives us a charming if cliched and exaggerated view of this particular phenomenon. While in real life, it's hard to believe anyone can be a bridesmaid 27 times in 27 different weddings, the phenomenon of all your friends settling down one after another in a short period of time is a very real thing. It's the domino effect - once one domino standing on end tips over, the rest quickly follow.

My personal Bridal Wave isn't even that huge by my friend, E's, standards. A lawyer by trade and a decided quirkyalone by choice, there was a month last year when she had a wedding to attend EVERY WEEKEND. She goes to a wedding at least once a month these days. I attribute my low wedding count so far to the fact that most of my friends are doctors, which means: a) most have postponed their marriage plans to after they have finished their training, or b) they are all prisoners of the hospital, with no social life, and are all decidedly single. (To our collective dismay, a good majority of my girl friends fall under choice B.)

I won't lie... being a well-socialized little girl, I grew up with the notion that I would accomplish the following in this order: finish school, become a kick-ass doctor or lawyer (I wasn't sure yet which at the time), then get married, have a family. Being a voracious reader of everything, I was addicted to romance novels for a pretty long while; and to this day, my movie-watching palate gets its regular doses of sweetness from the undying romantic comedy genre. I grew up believing that everybody gets to marry her prince - even if he used to be a frog - and have their own version of happily ever after.

Alas, as I grew older, I realized that Real Life seldom goes by way of Fairy Tale. In the real world, we can't all be princesses. Not every girl will get the guy of her dreams, even if she kisses a hundred frogs in the process. Sometimes, in some things, you'll always find yourself on the outside looking in. Former romantics make the worst cynics, and I was no exception. For a long time, I lived miserably in the bitter barn - until I finally made the decision to put my fairy tale dreams away for new ones and realized that even alone, I could make my own happy endings happen, with or without my frog prince.

Nonetheless, the onslaught of the Bridal Wave can sometimes make it hard to be among the last ones standing. It's a battle some days to keep from wallowing in the old negative vibe of the bitter barn when I'm bombarded with reminders that I'm being left behind. Thankfully, my friends and I, who are all swimming in the same wedding-tossed sea, have formed into a tightly-knit support group. No one is allowed to wallow for very long - and anyone who shows signs of doing so is given a strong kick in the ass to remind her that she's worth a hell of a lot more than the lack of a ring on her finger. We help each other keep our lives in perspective - and from jumping off the deep end.

No matter how full and how happy life is as a footloose and fancy-free single girl, I can't help but feel a bit wistful and hope that, despite the odds, I'll know what it's like to have someone waiting for me at the end of the aisle someday. But I'm working on embracing the fact that should that day ever come, it's only to be another drop in the full cup of a life well lived. As my life is slowly opening up more every day, I'm coming to believe that's true.

So I'm clambering up my quirkyalone surf board and paddling out to meet the Bridal Wave as it comes. It's bound to be rough going at first, but I'm crossing my fingers that with the right attitude and a lot of positive support, I'm going to weather it with my heart whole.



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Thursday, February 14, 2008

International Quirkyalone Day!

Uncompromising romantic singletons of the world celebrate! February 14 isn't just for the coupled-up anymore. Today - aside from being Valentine's Day - is also International Quirkyalone Day.





Being quirkyalone is not so much about one's actual relationship status but rather a state of mind. Even coupled-up people can be Quirkyalones, too. But regardless of whether a quirkyalone is single or in a relationship, being a quirkyalone is all about valuing oneself and celebrating all the kinds of love there is. It's also a movement that has caught fire as more and more people read the original essay and see themselves in it.

Quirkyalones may be single and perhaps dateless, but neither of those things can take away from what a great life they're living. They're holding out for the Real Thing, but they're not brooding or obsessing about if or when the Real Thing will come along. They're living fully in the moment and not In The Meantime. They appreciate themselves and by doing so are able to appreciate others all the more. (This part of being a quirkyalone is something I am still working on.)

Are you a quirkyalone single? You can read the original essay by Sasha Cagen and my thoughts about being a single Quirkyalone in my New Year post. Better yet, you can take this quiz to see how high you score in quirkyalone-ness.

If you answered a resounding yes to the above, here are a few suggestions on how you can celebrate International Quirkyalone Day:

Indulge yourself. One of the best things about being single is not having to justify ourselves to any one person. All of us have a guilty pleasure that we try not to get too much of. For some people it's shopping. For others, it may be lazing around in bed all day. For some, it may be as simple as polishing off a box of chocolates! Whatever it is, give yourself the green light to gorge on whatever it is that makes you feel great - and not feel guilty about it afterwards.

Pamper yourself. Date or no date, book an appointment at a salon and get treat yourself to the works. Soak in a decadent bubble bath with a glass of champagne. Drop by a spa and get a full-body massage or body scrub. You deserve to look and feel fabulous - for you and not for anybody else!

Escape. Turn your back on the city and give yourself some recharge time. Meet up with your other quirkyalone friends and spend a few days at the beach. Enjoy the solitude and silence of the mountains. It's your get-away - grab it tight with both hands and run away with it! Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to do... freedom is one of the best perks of being single.

A few of my quirkyfriends and I are going to go for option number three later today. We're driving away from the chaos of Valentine's Day traffic in the city and going to the beach for the next few days to indulge in some sun, sea, and sky - and a healing dose of quirkytogether friendship. Because while we quirkyalones value our solitude, we also consider friendship to be just as important.

Whatever you choose to do today to celebrate, I hope you have a wonderful time. After all, International Quirkyalone day encourages quirkyalones to create a great day for themselves, whatever it means to them, without necessarily having to conform to what society expects the celebration to look like.

Happy Quirkyalone Day!

This photo of Bagasbas Beach, Camarines Norte (our destination) was taken by lanclav.


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Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Dateless in Manila

This photo taken by endless beauty


Valentine's Day is a day that evokes a lot of strong and conflicting emotions in people, often an off-shoot of their romantic circumstances on February 14.

I'm not going to lie to you. I have, for most of my life, fallen under the "Kill Valentine's Day" category.

For those like me who are unequivocally unattached, without even an "it's complicated" to add to our Facebook profiles, this celebration of hearts, chocolates, flowers, and happy pairs playing kissy face was the same as having our faces rubbed in our aloneness. Valentine's Day is a nightmare for a young girl going through adolescence and young adulthood feeling as wanted as a cast-off rag, completely surrounded by friends who are all sought-after belles of the ball. All this love stuff was happening to everyone else but me, and V-day was a bitter reminder of my status as a social failure.

Many tears, self-recriminations, and much growing up later, after several years of indulging in an annual V-day rage-and-rant funk, I am able to face Valentine's Day with a certain degree of Zen.

No, my circumstances haven't changed. It's one day to Valentine's Day, and I am still dateless in Manila. Again. For the nth time in my thirty years of existence. But while I have yet to get to a point where I can shrug off being single on V-day without a lingering twinge, I'm learning to make peace with it in my own way. With a healthy dose of humor and an even heftier dose of denial.

But, really, there are up-sides to being single and dateless on Valentine's Day. Among them:

1. Since I don't have to spend on a V-Day gift for anyone, I can buy that pair of shoes I've been drooling over for a while.

2. I am not obliged to drive through the crazy, hideous Valentine's Day evening traffic.

3. I can buy myself that sinful box of Belgian chocolates at Valentine promo price and not have to share it with anyone unless I want to

I've come to realize that being resentful of this over-commercialized day devoted to coupledom and romance is a waste of time and energy. Besides that, I'm astonished to find that I've finally begun believing that my single state is not a reflection of my worth as a person - not just as a fact in my head, but in my heart where it really counts.

My being single simply is. Once I fully embrace that reality, I can finally stop taking each Valentine's Day celebration as a personal insult and view it as it is - just another February day. I haven't reached that point just yet, but I am getting there.

So, even if I am dateless in Manila, life goes on. Another V-day will come and go. And while the cynic in me doesn't see how things can possibly ever be any different, the closet romantic continues to hold on to that tiny hope that maybe... just maybe next year it will.

After all, life is all about possibilities.

* * * *

A little something I wanted to share to my fellow singletons:
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning,

And company doesn't mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts,

And presents aren't promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your eyes open and your head held high.
With the grace of a woman,

Not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today,

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.


So plant your own garden,
And decorate your own soul,

And stop waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure--

That you really are strong, and you really do have worth.


Author Unknown
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Tuesday, January 01, 2008

A Toast to the Quirkyalones

For my first blog entry of 2008, I'm skipping the usual good wishes, list of resolutions, and hopes and dreams for the coming year. I'm skipping it because I know everyone else will probably be writing similar entries in their blogs about the above topics, and because I know you all already know I want only wonderful things for all of you who are reading this.

Oddly enough, I'm starting this year with a post about... being single.


I won't deny it... I am, at thirty, unabashedly and unapologetically single. Single with no prospects in sight, surrounded by many friends who have either taken the plunge and gotten married or are currently in serious relationships. Despite being alone, life goes on for me.

If I've managed to lose some romantic optimism in exchange for some hard-earned cynicism, I have gotten by. And, yes, I have learned to be happy. Being single, after all, is not without its perks. I like having the freedom to do what I want, when I want without having to consult anyone. I like the feeling of being independent and knowing I can take care of myself.

But I won't lie that I don't lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling and battling debilitating thoughts on growing old by myself, ruthlessly flogging myself and wondering why I've been singled out to be alone - because I do. I still fall prey to all the usual questions: What's wrong with me? Am I simply being too picky (not that there are men falling in line anyway)? What have I done to deserve this?

Over the past few years, these panic sessions have become fewer and farther in between, but I still have them. This year has been a bit harder than others for me because I celebrated a turn-of-the-decade birthday and have no definite plan in life.

A turn-of-the-decade year is always a bitch because it makes you look back and realize that you've already lived a big chunk of your life - and yet have nothing concrete to show for it. You wonder where the ten years have gone and what the hell you did with them. And you realize that for better or for worse that you can never have them back. Hitting a turn-of-the-decade year and a crossroads at the same time is a concept to try the sanity of even the most well-adjusted adult. Add being single with no prospects to the mix, and you very well have a mess on your hands - or, rather, in your head.

I am not, nor have I ever pretended to be, a well-adjusted person.

Thankfully, it has helped a lot that I am rich in friends (read: IM batchmates) who are in the same boat as me - hopelessly single for the moment. We've supported one another through heartbreaks and impossible unrequited romantic illusions (all ours) and weddings (not ours). They say misery loves company, and I am definitely grateful for the company. It makes me feel a lot less alone being alone.

Another single friend once forwarded an essay by a woman named Sasha Cagen as part of her New Year's greeting. This essay first introduced to me the concept of being a quirkyalone.


Quirkyalone: noun/adj. A person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating for the sake of being in a couple. With unique traits and an optimistic spirit; a sensibility that transcends relationship status.


After sharing the essay with the rest of my single circle, we were comforted by the idea that there were more of us out there than we realized. It may just have been the whole misery-loves-company principle operating again, but we all connected to the idea of being Quirkyalones.

So for this New Year, as a gift to others who may be Quirkyalones and do not realize it, I would like to share that same essay with you.


PEOPLE LIKE US: THE QUIRKYALONES

I am, perhaps, what you might call deeply single. Almost never ever in a relationship. Until recently, I wondered whether there might be something weird about me. But then lonely romantics began to grace the covers of TV Guide and Mademoiselle. From
Ally McBeal to Sex in the City, a spotlight came to shine on the forever single. If these shows had touched such a nerve in our culture, I began to think, perhaps I was not so alone after all.

The morning after New Year's Eve (another kissless one, of course), a certain jumble of syllables came to me. When I told my friends about my idea, their faces lit up with instant recognition: the quirkyalone.

If Jung was right, that people are different in fundamental ways that drive them from within, then the quirkyalone is simply to be added to the pantheon of personality types assembled over the 20th century. Only now, when the idea of marrying at age 20 has become thoroughly passé, are we quirkyalones emerging in greater numbers.

We are the puzzle pieces who seldom fit with other puzzle pieces. Romantics, idealists, eccentrics, we inhabit singledom as our natural resting state. In a world where proms and marriage define the social order, we are, by force of our personalities and inner strength, rebels.

For the quirkyalone, there is no patience for dating just for the sake of not being alone. We want a miracle. Out of millions, we have to find the one who will understand.

Better to be untethered and open to possibility: living for the exhilaration of meeting someone new, of not knowing what the night will bring. We quirkyalones seek momentous meetings.

By the same token, being alone is understood as a wellspring of feeling and experience. There is a bittersweet fondness for silence. All those nights alone—they bring insight.

Sometimes, though, we wonder whether we have painted ourselves into a corner. Standards that started out high only become higher once you realize the contours of this existence. When we do find a match, we verge on obsessive—or we resist.

And so, a community of like-minded souls is essential.

Since fellow quirkyalones are not abundant (we are probably less than 5 percent of the population), I recommend reading the patron saint of solitude: German poet Rainer Maria Rilke. Even 100 years after its publication, Letters to a Young Poet still feels like it was written for us: "You should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is something in you that wants to break out of it," Rilke writes. "People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of easy, but it is clear that we must hold to that which is difficult."

Rilke is right. Being quirkyalone can be difficult. Everyone else is part of a couple! Still, there are advantages. No one can take our lives away by breaking up with us. Instead of sacrificing our social constellation for the one all-consuming individual, we seek empathy from friends. We have significant others.

And so, when my friend asks me whether being quirkyalone is a life sentence, I say, yes, at the core, one is always quirkyalone. But when one quirkyalone finds another, oooh la la. The earth quakes.

—From To-Do List, July 2000, and Utne Reader, September 2000.



I am single. But I am happily single. Learning to love my life and live it to the fullest is a work in progress - but I'm getting there. And if I ever get to have my "momentous meeting," I mean it to be icing on a very fine cake.

This is my New Year's wish to the fellow quirkyalones who inhabit my life and make my singlehood richer by being there - and my wish to you as well:

Here's to a new year of discovering ourselves, enjoying our solitude, and living with the excitement that each new day could be the day when our world will quake.

Happy new year everyone! :)
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