it’s sunday night again. the kind where the air feels heavy and quiet, and all i can think about is how fast the weekend went by. i wish i could say i was productive... that i got up early, cleaned my room, organized my thoughts, or worked on something meaningful. but the truth is, i didn’t. i spent most of my time in bed, scrolling endlessly on my phone, jumping from one random video to another until i lost track of time.

and now that it’s already evening, i feel that familiar guilt, the kind that creeps in when you realize you let the days pass without doing anything “worthwhile.” it’s funny how even rest can make you feel like you’ve failed at something. i keep telling myself it’s okay to slow down, but sometimes it’s hard to believe it.

still, if there’s one thing i don’t regret doing this weekend, it’s spending time with my family yesterday. we lit candles, offered flowers, and said our quiet prayers for our loved ones who have passed on. it’s something we do every year, but it hits differently each time. there’s this stillness that settles when we’re all together. watching the candles flicker, remembering faces and moments that used to be so alive. it’s bittersweet, but in a comforting way. it reminded me that no matter how fast life moves, there are traditions and people that ground me.

after that, i found myself thinking a lot... maybe too much. about turning 30 soon. about how much has changed and how much hasn’t. about how i’ve been craving independence, maybe even wanting to move out, but also worrying about the cost of it all... financially, emotionally, mentally. sometimes i feel like i’m behind, like i should’ve figured things out by now. but at the same time, i know i’m doing my best with what i have.

i’ve been wanting to “get my life together” lately. to be more organized, more intentional, more put-together. i imagine waking up early, keeping my space tidy, planning my days, having that sense of control over my life again. but right now, i’m not there yet. and maybe that’s okay. maybe it’s okay to admit that i’m still learning how to show up for myself, even when i don’t feel like it.

sometimes i think being in my late 20s feels like standing in the middle of a bridge, one foot in the comfort of who i used to be, the other trying to step into who i’m becoming. it’s messy and confusing, but i guess that’s part of growing up too.

so tonight, i’m trying to give myself some grace. maybe this weekend wasn’t wasted. maybe it was just a pause i needed. a moment to breathe, to reset, to remember what actually matters.

i didn’t clean my room or cross anything off my list. but i spent time with my family. i remembered people i miss. i thought about my life and what i want it to look like moving forward. maybe that’s a kind of productivity too, the quiet kind, the one that happens in your heart.

so here i am, ending this sunday night a little more forgiving of myself. i’ll try again tomorrow. i’ll keep trying until things start to feel lighter. for now, i’m letting the silence of this night remind me that it’s okay to rest. that i’m allowed to pause. that i’m still moving, even when it doesn’t look like it.

here’s to a gentler start to the week, and to slowly figuring things out, one quiet sunday night at a time.

hi loves, it’s the weekend and i planned to run some errands, but it’s been pouring rain nonstop since morning. the whole town is flooded, and it’s terrifying to see the news. thankfully, we’re safe where we are.

and tonight, i'm just sitting down and letting my thoughts find their way out.

well, lately, i've been thinking more about work and how i’ve been feeling the pressure more than usual. it’s not just the deadlines or the tasks piling up. it’s the weight of expectations that never seem to ease.

what’s hard is that the pressure doesn’t always come from the work itself, but from the top... from the higher-ups trying to please clients, to maintain a certain image, to hit every target. but the ones who pay the price are the people on the ground. the ones doing the actual work. what makes it tricky is that the higher-ups aren’t unkind, and sometimes they even express genuine care. but some days, when there is pressure, they seem to act differently.

it’s heartbreaking, really. because most of us actually want to do good work. we want to make things better. but how do you thrive when you’re constantly made to feel like you’re not doing enough?

some nights, i lie awake wondering if they even notice. the fatigue behind the polite “noted.” the quiet sighs after meetings. the heavy eyes behind the camera during virtual calls. the way our smiles have slowly become just part of the job.

we’re all trying our best. holding on to whatever patience, kindness, and hope we have left. but it gets tiring when the higher ups only sees the numbers, the outputs, the results… and not the people behind them.

sometimes i wish they’d pause and listen, like really listen. to understand that pressure doesn’t always bring out the best in people. sometimes, it breaks them.

all we want is to be heard. to be seen. to work in a place that values both excellence and empathy. because the truth is, we can endure the hard days if we feel supported. we can face the pressure if we know it comes with understanding.

but when expectations keep rising while compassion stays missing, it’s only a matter of time before even the most passionate ones burn out.

and i don’t think any of us deserve that.

and so, i’ve found myself thinking about where i am and how much has changed.

i’ve been with this company for almost eight years now. it's a place i once thought i’d stay in forever. i used to picture myself growing old here, maybe even retiring with the same faces i’ve worked with for years. i’ve poured so much of myself into this place. and for the longest time, that felt like enough.

but there’s a certain kind of exhaustion that comes from being here and being in the in between. not quite at the top, but not on the ground either. just somewhere in the middle, catching the weight that falls from above so it doesn’t crush the people below.

i’ve been living in that space for a while now.

i’ve always tried to understand. to see things from every side. and i get where the higher-ups are coming from. they care deeply about the company... maybe even too deeply sometimes. i see how much they pour of themselves into the work, how much they want things to succeed. they want excellence. they want to deliver. they want the company to grow. i understand that... deeply.  i admire that kind of passion. but sometimes, it feels like in chasing those goals, they forget that even capable people have limits.

we get tired. we get overwhelmed. we try our best, but some days it’s hard to keep up with expectations that never stop growing.

they often say they’re open to suggestions, that we can share our thoughts, raise concerns, be honest. but for some reason, it doesn’t feel safe to do that. not because they’d get angry, but because it just doesn’t feel safe. there’s that quiet fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as negative, that being honest might be seen as complaining.

so we keep quiet. we nod, smile, and adjust. again and again. we just figure things out silently.

it’s disappointing, really... to want to do good work, to give your best, and still feel like it’s never enough. to constantly stretch yourself thin just to meet standards that were not that realistic to begin with.

and for the longest time, i try my best to protect the rest of the team. i filter the pressure, soften the tone, carry what i can before it reaches them. i  try to make sure they feel safe, that they don’t wake up every day dreading their work. i try to remind them that they’re valued, that what they do matters.

and i try not to complain. i try not to talk bad about the higher-ups or anyone. i just quietly take the hit, fix what i can, and keep things moving.

but lately, it’s been getting harder to hold it all together. you understand the higher-ups’ side. their drive, their sacrifices, the way their minds never rest. but you also feel the people’s side. their exhaustion, their quiet longing to just breathe.

i see the team giving their all. trying, learning, staying loyal. but when the pressure comes directly from the top, i can only do so much to shield them. and i’ve seen what happens when that shield isn’t there. those who dealt with the pressure directly… they’ve left. they couldn’t take it anymore. and honestly, i can’t even blame them.

and these days… i’ve felt something shift.

i’m still doing my work, still showing up, still giving what i can, but i no longer carry it the same way i used to. i’ve stopped trying to hold everything together. i’ve stopped taking the pressure too personally. i’ve stopped measuring my worth by how much i can endure.

i don’t resent anyone. i just wish it didn’t have to feel like this. that ambition didn’t always have to come with so much pressure. that appreciation didn’t have to coexist with exhaustion.

because even when you love your work, even when you’re thankful for the trust and opportunities, it still hurts to constantly feel like you’re one mistake away from disappointing everyone.

i’m learning that appreciation alone isn’t enough to sustain people. what sustains us is balance, understanding, and a kind of leadership that knows when to push and when to pause.

i still believe in leading with empathy. in creating spaces where people can grow without burning out. but lately, i’ve realized that even empathy has its limits when you’re the one holding the weight for everyone else.

maybe someday, the world will learn that people don’t perform better under pressure. they perform better when they feel safe, supported, and trusted.

now, i’m just going with the flow.

and maybe it’s not giving up... it’s acceptance. it’s understanding that i can only do so much, and that’s enough. that if they ever decide to let me go, i think i’ll be okay. because i’ve given enough of myself to know that my value isn’t defined by how tightly i hold on.

i don’t see it as betrayal. maybe it’s just… growth. i’m learning to protect my peace, to focus on the things that truly matter to me. the things that make me feel alive, grounded, and human.

maybe this is what happens when you’ve carried too much for too long. you learn to set it down, quietly, without bitterness. you start to see the difference between loyalty and self-sacrifice.

and maybe this is what peace looks like. not the absence of pressure, but the decision to stop letting it consume you.

because even in the heaviness, God always provides.

if you asked me a few years ago what i wanted most, i would’ve said: a little breathing space. a life that didn’t feel like it was running me over. time to actually pause, rest, and choose how i spend my days. for the longest time, that felt impossible... it's just a prayer i’d whisper whenever life got too loud.

and then, without me even realizing it, here i am. living with a flexible schedule. having space to breathe, reflect, and actually write again. it’s not perfect, but it’s something i once prayed for. and it’s here.

i think that’s the thing about gratitude... it’s often found in the places we don’t immediately notice. not in the big wins, but in the quiet corners of everyday life.

like my family. my mom still cooks me delicious, savory meals that make me feel taken care of, even at 29. my lola brings me coffee in the afternoon while i’m working, without me even asking. my brother and sister, who never get tired of my little requests, whether it’s carrying my laundry or helping out with things i could probably do myself. they don’t make a big deal out of it, but to me, it means the world.

and then there’s my boyfriend. he’s the one who takes on the things i can’t do, who steps in where i fall short. sometimes it’s in the quietest, simplest ways, but that’s exactly what i love about it. love doesn’t always need grand gestures. it shows up in the small, steady ones.

even our sari-sari store is something i’m thankful for. it’s not just a business, it’s a part of our home, a part of our rhythm. our suki customers come and go, and in their own little ways, they sustain us too. it’s humbling, really, to realize that something so simple can be such a blessing.

but above all, what i’m most grateful for is God. if i look back at every season of my life, one thing has always been true: He never left me. not once. on the days i thought i couldn’t make it, somehow He carried me through. on the days i felt empty, He provided... sometimes through people, sometimes through unexpected opportunities, sometimes in ways i can’t even explain.

honestly, there are moments i think… maybe i’m His favorite. because He always, always finds a way to sustain me. even when i doubt, even when i feel unworthy, even when i don’t see the path ahead, He shows up. quietly. faithfully. always.

gratitude doesn’t take away the burdens of life. they’re still there, still heavy at times. but gratitude reminds me to look around and see what’s also here: love, family, provision, small joys, answered prayers. and above all, a God who never fails.

and maybe that’s what keeps me going. not the absence of struggle, but the presence of grace.

sometimes, i wonder if being the eldest daughter means carrying an invisible weight that no one else can quite see. on the surface, everything looks fine. i go about my day, i do what’s expected, i try to be dependable. but underneath, there’s this quiet exhaustion, this ache that comes from always feeling like i have to hold myself together for everyone else.

i’ve spent so much of my life being careful. careful with my words, careful with my choices, careful with how i live. not because i’m naturally cautious, but because i feel like i can’t afford to slip. others have already pushed boundaries, made decisions that shook our family in one way or another. and in the middle of it all, i decided (without anyone really asking me to) that i couldn’t add to that. that i had to be the one who stayed safe, who didn’t stir up more worry, who didn’t give anyone another reason to shake their head.

but what happens when “being safe” starts to feel like living half a life? what happens when the things i want (not even reckless things, just simple human wants) start to feel like luxuries i can’t touch? it’s frustrating to silence myself before i even begin, to measure every possibility against what others might say or think. i’ve trained myself to put their peace of mind before my own, and it’s exhausting in a way i can’t always explain.

the hardest part is the quietness of it. there’s no big confrontation, no one standing over me saying “don’t do this.” it’s just me, carrying these unspoken expectations in my chest, telling myself to stay in line, to be the steady one, the reliable one, the one who won’t disappoint. and in that silence, i feel myself shrinking, like i’m folding away parts of who i am just to keep up an image that maybe no one even asked me to hold in the first place.

i am proud of the sacrifices i’ve made for my family. i love them, and i know they love me. but i can’t deny this part of me that is aching for freedom. freedom to breathe without guilt. freedom to make decisions without the constant fear of what everyone will say. freedom to live a little messy, a little imperfect, without feeling like i’ve failed some invisible test.

i don’t want to keep pausing my life just to prove that i am the “good one.” i don’t want to keep hiding behind the role of the panganay, as if that’s all i am allowed to be. i am human, too. i have dreams, flaws, desires, and i want to be brave enough to choose them without apology.

tonight, i let myself write this down because maybe the first step is admitting it to myself: i am tired. i am frustrated. i am longing for a life that feels like mine, not one that’s constantly measured against other people’s approval.

and maybe, just maybe, it’s okay if i stop being the perfect one, and start being real instead.

it’s sunday and the day’s almost gone. i slept in, and then spent most of the afternoon just… thinking. i didn’t really do much, except work a little on some social media posts for our small businesses. part of me feels guilty for not being “productive,” but maybe i needed this.

i’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately. working from home has been something i prayed for for so long, and i’m grateful i get to do it now. but honestly, i’m still figuring it out. i love the freedom — that i can move at my own pace and take on part-time gigs — but i also hate how messy it feels. there are no clear lines between work and life. i’m literally working and sleeping in the same space, surrounded by the sari-sari store clutter. everything feels all over the place.

sometimes i wonder if what i need is a restart. i want to reset my routines, my finances, even my environment. moving out crosses my mind a lot — but then i worry if that’s even practical right now. i don’t know. maybe it’s too soon.

but maybe i don’t need to overhaul everything all at once. maybe it can start small. like clearing one corner of my space. organizing one drawer. maybe if i do enough of those small things, they’ll add up to something bigger.

i think about the people i work with in the us. one’s so young, already chasing multiple ventures like it’s second nature. another is in her 60s, still working because she loves it, and she doesn’t see herself stopping anytime soon. different ages, different lives, but they both care deeply about their families. it makes me think about what i really want, and the kind of life i hope to build too.

today was quiet. and maybe that’s what i needed. a pause. a reminder that it’s okay not to have it all figured out yet.

i still want a simpler, lighter life. and i believe i’ll get there — maybe not all at once, but slowly. one small step at a time.