Dream A Little Dream

I wanted this originally for #TuesdayTunes, but (1) I knew it would be like a post-hash potato like last Monday’s post, and (2) this is not the scheduled week for my Tuesday Tunes post, anyway. But you know, this is a fine example of never giving up on your dreams, no matter how big they are, or how silly they might seem…This is a light, simple post that I enjoyed from one of my fave bloggers, Justine. I’m sure we all can relate, one way or another 🙂

Live Now and Zen

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.”  ~George Eliot

My new toys

When I started on this journey to improve my self-esteem, I knew three things would be crucial to my success. I needed to make time for the things that feed my soul. People who know they are worthy take care of themselves without reservation or guilt. They know that what matters to them matters. Period. So, writing was going to have to become a priority in my life again because writers write. I also needed to find space in my head for positive thoughts. I needed to find self-acceptance and self-appreciation. For me that meant a long overdue return to my yoga mat because yoga teaches balance, patience, and flexibility of both body and spirit. Most of all, yoga teaches you to let go of shit that doesn’t serve you, and I have a lot of shit…

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Thank You for the Music #MondayMemoirs

Hello, folks! Hope you’re having a nice Monday. I am just posting this now (if you’re from abroad, time is just right; here, it’s almost midnight). Wanted to make it a scheduled post last weekend, but I wasn’t feeling well. Then I was way too busy at work today. And then, I was planning on posting something else then realized I hadn’t really saved pictures online. The good thing is, I have this!

THIS was the mural made by me and my “colleagues” when I was still in college and working as a college radio DJ. I have very fond memories of my days as a DJ. Of course, sometimes, there are bad apples with good ones, so needless to say, not all those days were good ones. Cases in point:

A. The others were teasing me to Someone, a fellow DJ whom I wasn’t particularly interested in. They just naturally assumed it because Somebody Else said so. I got to talk to Somebody Else, who never really liked me, and he based the assumption on how I passionately commented on why Someone, who was appearing on national TV as one of the hosts of a show, should have been…I don’t really remember now what it was about, really, but it was clear I preferred Someone to do the hosting. Now, if you knew me for real, you’d know how passionately I gave my opinion at times (still do). But he/they didn’t know me and simply thought, “Oh, how funny, she has a crush on Someone. That would be good for laughs.”

It wasn’t a fun time to be teased, having been the brunt of jokes at certain phases of my life in the past, and especially when I knew they were laughing at me, not with me. I wasn’t blind: I could see the expressions, the exchanged looks. They would imply things (at least, nothing hurtful or insulting) and treat me like a gradeschooler: “Hey, see here, Someone’s here” or “Someone’s playing a nice song, listen.” I never liked being the center of attention so I knew I was blushing like crazy, which just worsened the situation for me. I just got too shy that I did not say anything, after all, no one actually said they were teasing me because of it. I just did not like being made fun of.

Looking back now, I regret not really standing up for myself that time.

B. When I like doing something, I work hard for/on it. That was how I was when they took me in as a DJ. I knew some jocks (not all) were not looking at me and Another Girl as equals before because we started out as newscasters, so we were like “seen” as temporary replacements when they’re busy with their studies or just feeling plain lazy. The agreement was temporarily, Another Girl and I would prepare and give the news while the station tried to see how to give us all shows. We were to sit in at times if a jock couldn’t make it. So there we were, preparing our playlist for the next show we were to sit in for, and the current jocks would just get something from what we prepared because they felt entitled to it, because we “weren’t” really jocks. So then, it would be our problem to fix because we’d have to find something else for our playlist. To be honest, I don’t even know if it was just me and not her. Did I carry a sign on my forehead that said, “Bully me, please, I won’t mind”?

We did prove our worth, though, so some of the not-so-nice jocks became nicer, hopefully sincerely. I’d like to think sincerely. The Program Manager and some staff did take notice of how hard I worked so they decided to make me Student Assistant. Naturally, I became more hardworking, which unfortunately, pissed some people off because they did not want to be reminded how wrong they were treating the equipment or that they should read the news or mention local ads. I guess people hate it when you do your job, huh?

One guy, newer jock from the newer batch, was so rude (and should I mention, friends with some of those who were teasing me before?), he treated me like trash during a show that we were supposed to both host. He wouldn’t let me talk and would cut me off while I spoke, on air, in front of his friends who were there lounging around watching and idolizing him. He would give me the evil eye like saying, “Go away.” I admit, I let my temper get to me — but I felt really insulted. How dare this newbie who just sounded like a lazy *something* on air treat me that way! I think every time I put down my hands on the table, they were not put there as lightly as they should have been. And I never forgot that the mics were very sensitive…

The next day or a few days after, the Program Manager talked to me and said “others” were complaining about my behavior. Again, I knew I should have said something and complained back about the others. But I just said sorry. And I said sorry because I was kind of given an ultimatum — wise up or go out the door. I wised up, that’s what I did.

I wanted to stay despite the fact that they were not treating me nicely and I ended up not treating them nicely as well at times. I stayed because it was the music, the songs I played that soothed my soul.  I stayed for the experience, not for them. Why should I let a bunch of bullies decide what I did with my life? I stayed because it was important to me, it was my therapy that they did not know about and wouldn’t even care about, because that was after my father had his stroke and he never really recovered  properly from it. If they wanted to act like children, then fine. I would be the mature one and despite their protestation in case they get to read this, even if they don’t agree, I was the mature one. I endured their treatment with a smile, joked back, helped.

Finally, I was fine. Not sure if they felt differently about me, but I felt differently about me. I didn’t care much about what they thought anymore. I found my own friends in the group. If anyone didn’t like me, who cared? I cared more for my listeners. I wasn’t playing for them but my listeners who knew how to appreciate me without judging me.

And I was playing for me. I think that’s what mattered most. Music saved me.

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Thank you for reading my #MondayMemoirs. If you have any comments or questions, negative or positive, just lemme know. 🙂

Firsts of JUNE #atozchallenge2015

Hey, it’s JUNE, and yesterday was its first day. June in this country means school time, almost all-work and no-play for kids during weekdays (sorry, kids!).

My new family experienced three firsts yesterday. We have a transferee in third grade and it’s his first day in a new environment; hopefully, he survives the year well. We have a totally new student in kindergarten and it’s his first day ever in a school; he seems excited going to school so I’m crossing  my fingers that he’ll stay that way. And there’s this new mother (Me) sending her kids to school for the first time; she’s about as anxious as…Well, I don’t know the perfect analogy to use, but yes, she’s anxious! And so is the father, actually!

I’ve always known that being a mother is tough, but this sure makes it all very real. You worry about a lot of things and your kids’ education is one of them. Are they ready? Can they cope properly? Will they learn their lessons like they ought to? How strict should I be about learning? Will I pass or  fail as a mother?…Oops! That just came out. Where did that even come from???

Then again, that’s what it really boils down to, isn’t it? As parents, we are worried that we may not be performing well as their life-long guides. What if they grow up wrong? Or maybe we are just too demanding as parents? Ours are just kids yet and already, I am worried I am not bringing them up well. Everyday, I resolve to be better and yet I feel like I’m not even getting near better…

Oh, anxiety, go away, will you?!!!!

Anyway, I guess I should always remember the fact that we never stop learning life’s lessons until we grow old. As our kids learn their lessons in school, so must I learn from my mistakes as a parent. So today, let me promise to myself again that I will try to be better. It’s never wrong to strive to be better, is it?

He he, sorry, but this made me laugh a bit!

2013: The Depression Era

I don’t really see the number 13 as ominous. Looking at how my year went, though, I know that the person who most let me down was myself (BTW, I speak in the past tense, given that we have only three days to go before 2013 expires). Granted that many factors contributed to the negative stuff, it was in how I reacted to them that mattered. I started out the year all positive and it’s ending in a not-so-good fashion, all thanks to myself.

To be honest, 2012 seemed all so surreal that it was only in 2013 that things really started to sink in emotionally. I thought I was coping very well with the loss of both my parents and the financial burdens brought by the sad events. But as I learned from experts, one does need to go through the Stages of Grief to be able to move on. They don’t necessarily all happen and they don’t normally happen in an expected logical order, not in the way we want them to.

The five stages do not necessarily occur in order. We often move between stages before achieving a more peaceful acceptance of death. Many of us are not afforded the luxury of time required to achieve this final stage of grief.

To be more brutally honest, I know I went through the Anger (directed at myself, delving on the what-ifs and why-didn’t-Is even when I knew I already did all I could) and the Depression. Hardly a day went by that I wasn’t reminded of at least any one of my parents. Little things could make me tear up in an instant, especially if they were related to family and relationships. Sad things on TV easily made me cry (although happy things had the same effect on me as well).

I had always been easily moved before but I could keep a straight face and you’d never know. However, for some reason, it became very hard to control the emotions–someone would simply be telling a story or I would be listening to music and I would be wiping my eyes immediately. It was overwhelming and embarrassing at times.

Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck. To be pegged as iyakin or one who cried easily was just okay, but then I let other insecurities get the better of me. Insecurity and grief put together is a totally bad combo that can strain relationships. Most people never noticed this about me, but the people I most often interacted with certainly felt the negative vibes from me. Of course, not everyone understood this; they just thought I was being unreasonably difficult, and I was.

I became a self-pitying fool who unwittingly ostracized herself from others, blamed them for it, and felt quite disliked, which was most probably what truly happened after I acted the way I did. I felt so sensitive to somebody’s comments/criticisms, too, that I started dreading going to a weekly get-together, because at the time, that person unintentionally made me feel so much like a bad person and I started questioning myself whether I really deserved to be there still. My energy was on an all-time low.

It’s so hard to explain to you why I felt the way I did without going into more details. The bottom line is, though, I became so much like the opposite of what I was in 2012. I now dub 2013 as my new Officially Worst Year because it was the year I hated myself the most. Mind you, there were a lot of positive things happening in 2013, except when it came to the negatives, the gravity was so strong, pulling down much of my self-love and -confidence.

The good thing was I still had the capacity to self-reflect and realize what a pain I had been, and that the worst part was the wounds were self-inflicted. Little by little, I am going back to the Old but Better Me. I know it is working and I know those around me have noticed the changes. I will plant better seeds in my heart and cultivate until I find my Original Self.

So here’s hoping I tell you a happier story next year. I am hoping you’ll have better stories to tell as well 🙂

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This has been the most personal and revealing post about myself, but I felt I needed this. Quite therapeutic, actually. Would you like to share how your year has been, too? Or do you have any reactions/suggestions? Let’s talk. Just write down on the space provided for comments below and let the words flow.

2012 in Retrospect and What I Learned from It

Well, it’s been almost a month after the new year started.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Greeting you guys a prosperous 2013 had not left my mind from Day 1. It was just that aside from that, I didn’t know what exactly to say. I didn’t want to delve on how lonely it was to spend the holidays without my parents. Lonely was not the way to go if I wanted to be on a rearing-for-a-much-better-year mode. And I’m still shy talking about finally changing my Facebook relationship status from single to you-know-what (see? I can’t even say it without blushing even with no one looking). This decision sat waiting for a long time for reasons I need not divulge, but we’re actually already on our way near our first year as a couple. I am just happy he was there to brighten up my holidays and steer me away from sad thoughts.

The year 2012, in retrospect and on a more personal basis, was The Best and Worst Year, so far, although I am not exactly waiting for anything much worse than The Worst. Why The Worst, I need not clarify. It’s so crystal clear.

Why The Best? Let’s focus on that.

2012 taught me the value of contentment because as one quote shared and re-shared on Facebook said, you will never know the real value of money until you run out of it, or something like that, only better worded. I have always known that, but 2012 really made sure I understood completely.

2012 taught me humility. I had to be humble enough to realize I needed help, to ask for it, to accept it even when I didn’t ask.

2012 told me that sometimes, you have to let go of pride. It is especially relevant if doing so will serve a higher purpose.

2012 made me kinder to people and to myself. I have become more understanding of others’ shortcomings as well as mine. I have become more accepting that it has brought me people and things that I am now thankful for.

2012 has made me accept tribulations as challenges worth facing. To emerge triumphant means learning to be more courageous and mature. Nothing teaches like experience.

This is not to say I have become perfect. Nobody becomes perfect in a year. In fact, nobody becomes perfect EVER. What I’ve learned, I still re-learn everyday. I still always remind myself 2012’s teaching especially when I am getting lost. When we get lost, isn’t it best to find our way back to where we started?

2012 started a New Me. It was not the end of the world. So 2013,

come on and bring it on!!!