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Growing anyway

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Lately, I’ve been noticing how some people seem to treat my growth and creativity like a competition — and it has been an exhausting feeling. I don’t wake up trying to outdo anyone. I just want to enjoy what I love, keep learning, and grow at my own pace. But instead of support, I sometimes hear dismissive comments or notice people mirroring what I do, almost as if something needs to be proven. It shows up in small, subtle ways. I share something that helps me reflect or process life, and soon it becomes a shared interest. I casually mention wanting something, and before long, someone else already has it. Even parts of my blog have been copied elsewhere. Of course, anyone is free to explore the same things — but sometimes the energy behind it feels less like inspiration and more like comparison. At first, it bothered me. It felt like my every move was being watched, copied, or quietly dismissed. But the more I sat with that feeling, the more I understood something important: their reac...
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Habits I’m Unlearning as I Transition to My Late Twenties

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Is turning 27 considered part of the late twenties club? If so, then I suppose it’s time to welcome myself with the fact that I am indeed maturing and growing wiser. Over the past decade, I’ve collected both good and bad habits—some worth keeping, others worth unlearning as I prepare for my thirties. And because habits take time to reshape, I want to start early, so that the future version of me can live with more ease and intention. 1. Perfectionism Perfectionism is a double-edged sword, and I’ve been bleeding from it for years. It pushes me to excel, but it also drains me when nothing ever feels “good enough.” I remember being 13, idealistic and obsessive about every detail. Back then, it felt like discipline; now, I see how it robs me of joy and spontaneity. I’m learning that progress matters more than perfection, and that “done” is often better than “flawless.” 2. Procrastination Procrastination has been my silent companion—sometimes disguised as “ waiting for the right moment.” ...
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A homebody's thoughts: how I miss the sun outside

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I’ve been a homebody since I finished my final trimester last December 2025, and it looks like I’ll stay that way until graduation. There’s this superstition we hold, that anyone who hasn’t yet walked the graduation stage risks dying before they do. So here I am, tucked away in my new apartment with my little companion, Munchkin (my cat, my child), sipping warm chocolate milk in my pajamas.  Ah, finally! This quiet feels like a small luxury. Just two days ago, I moved out of my boarding house in Uptown, the place I called home for four years. Leaving it behind feels both liberating and strange, like closing a chapter I had long grown used to. Now, I’m learning to settle into this new space, this new chapter with new routines. There’s something comforting about realizing that no matter your age, you can always begin again. I have so many plans for this apartment. I want to make it a sanctuary. Cozy corners, soft lights, little rituals that make the days feel gentle.  Maybe I’ll...
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From the Archive: Fall down seven times, stand up eight | Nana Korobi, Ya Oki

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Life doesn’t measure us by how many times we fall—it measures us by how many times we rise. The Japanese proverb Nana korobi, ya oki means, “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.” It speaks of resilience—of never giving up hope and always striving for more. I never truly understood its meaning until life happened to me. Back in high school, we were asked to memorize poems, prose, and proverbs, but I never took them to heart. I wasn’t insensitive, just immature. I thought being academically smart was enough to survive. But life proved me wrong. It slapped me with truths I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve learned that survival requires more than intellect—it demands a strong heart and mind. Life stretches you, reshapes you, and humbles you until you learn to live with grace. Last year, I fell hard. My expectations were shattered when others sabotaged my attempt at growth. I made enemies, and “friends” shed their masks—revealing snake skins and striking when I was most vulnerable. They painte...
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The Courage To Be Disliked: Reflections on Simplicity | Book Review

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I can proudly say that 2023 was a year for the creatives. I painted a lot, I read a lot, but because of my hectic schedule, no book review made it here. And now, since I’m procrastinating my prelim study session, I want to talk about my recent read: The Courage To Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. A Philosopher Who Says Life Is Simple The book explores Adlerian Psychology . I enjoyed reading it during my day-offs because there was so much to annotate. I’d already encountered Alfred Adler in past trimesters, but we never really touched the core ideas and subtopics. It begins with a young man full of questions about life and a philosopher who insists: life is simple. The youth disagrees, calling it hypocritical and preposterous. They then embark on a five-day discussion: the youth eager to prove the philosopher wrong, the philosopher eager to share wisdom. One exchange stood out: “That is not because the world is complicated. It’s because you are making the world complicat...
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Your story is yours to shape

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Yes, that’s right. Each of us has a choice in how we live our lives, no matter what cards we’re dealt. Some hands may be harder than others, but the power to decide how we respond. To rise, to endure, to create meaning—is always ours. Life isn’t defined by the cards themselves. It’s defined by the courage to play them with intention. Every day, we’re given small choices: to nurture peace instead of conflict, to create instead of compare, to move forward instead of stay stuck. These choices may seem ordinary, but together they shape the story of who we are becoming. So choose boldly. Choose gently. Choose in a way that feels true to you, because your life is yours to shape. You have a choice. -E.
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I used to peel my oranges until ...

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I used to peel my oranges until he did it for me—without being asked, without hesitation. He did it with a smile, and without expecting anything in return. His gestures weren’t glamorous, flashy, or dramatic. But they were real. He peeled oranges even when it was inconvenient for him. Sticky fingers, quiet patience, a small act of service that spoke louder than words. He stayed by my side when I was on the verge of breaking down, cheering for me to continue.  The Orange Peel Theory says that love is revealed in the little things, like peeling fruit for someone. But his patience and care go beyond the theory. It wasn’t just about the orange. It was about showing up, even when life (my life, specifically) was messy. It was about choosing tenderness over convenience, presence over absence. And maybe that’s what love really is: not the grand gestures, not the spectacle, but the everyday rituals and little things that make life softer and grand. The quiet acts that no one else sees. Th...
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