XXII | Abad-Torres

Full-time mama and wife with a 9-5 job. These are my three philosophies: uphold the capability to be sexy, the dignity to stay classy, and the courage to be beautiful.

[abadabbygail]

It may often seem like there is no “other way.” In those moments, it is crucial to find another option, because the ones presented to us are either unwanted or seems unnecessary, and you are left to decide the lesser evil between two. Sometimes these moments are life-changing, moments that might mean things will never be the same. And in these life-changing moments, it is not the change itself that is feared but rather the consequences that will come after. Change is inevitable, and time stops for nothing.. so in these moments a decision must be made. And later in life, we take a moment to reflect upon these moments and the things that have come because of it; though often times we look at the things that did not come. And in that time, you must remind yourself that whatever will be, will be. Time travel is not possible, and books cannot be re-written. In that time, you must remember that you have only two options. The first is to hold on to that anger or that nostalgia or sadness or whatever emotion is controlling you and decide whether you want to dwell on it. The second? To let it go and accept the path you have chosen. Neither of these options are ideal, but it can be the difference between being stuck, and moving on.

[abadabbygail]

There was a period of time where writing was my saving grace.  I can safely say that I had time to write because all my energy was placed onto either school or work.  And though at the time, it was a lot of work, I had energy to spare at the end of the day to wind down and just write.  Spare time was easily had, and my mind was focused on three to five things at one time.  Things have definitely changed since.

Spare time is no longer something I possess regularly nor is energy.  Thankfully I was able to finish my degree but had to sacrifice the commencement ceremony in order to spend time with my (at the time) newborn baby girl.  Shortly after giving birth, I went back to work full-time and have been patiently waiting for the next time I could sit or lie down and have enough energy to stay awake. It has been a struggle.  And sometimes it feels like I have so much pent up emotions that every attempt to write something quickly ended and became something more favorable to my family life (cook, clean, you know: domestic stuff).  The longer I put off writing, the harder it was to pull my thoughts apart and form actual sentences because my mind would be working at 87 miles per hour.  I am drained to say the least.

I have reached a point in my life where I am “in between things.”  I am blessed in that I have a job that could easily become a career if I invest enough in it, but still obtain the flexibility of the retail side of it.  I am blessed in that I have a long list of people, family and friends alike, whom I trust enough to hand my daughter over to care for.  I am blessed in that I have a husband who is working so hard for his career with his wife and daughter in mind, who is understanding and empathetic to my struggles, but also makes me laugh and treats me well and can make me forget about said struggles long enough to sleep a good amount.  But all in all, I am so incredibly blessed to be a mother.  And with these blessings have come hardship.

There cannot be a rainbow without the rain.  That is, by far, the biggest thing I have learned while on this journey.  I am learning.  I am learning a lot. But it is my blessings that allow me to move forward, to wake up every morning and keep doing it, to truly be myself.  I cannot say that I am where I envisioned myself to be at this point in my life, but I can continue to say that I have accomplished much, much more.  So maybe I do not possess the average 21-year-old’s life. Maybe I was forced to grow up and mature a little faster than some of the people I went to high school or even college with.  But I have not sacrificed my spirit.  I am still learning, still growing, and still making mistakes like every other 21-year-old. The story might be different but the path I am on is fulfilling, and if I were to go back in time, I would do it the same.

[inkskinned]

sexual history does not define purity. i have seen pure. it is my friend silently moving things so her blind girlfriend doesn’t have to grope around for them. it is the seven year old student i had who learned how to sign “want to play” so he could talk to his deaf neighbor. it is the morning i woke up to find my dog and two cats all sleeping next to each other. it is in small beautiful moments: holding someone’s hand so they can work through a panic attack, giving someone a smooth rock from the ocean, a little boy being a princess, the look on a child’s face the first time they read a book on their own from start to finish. pure is paying for someone’s coffee, is giving up time for soup kitchens, is staying up late to help a friend work through things. it’s saying “yes, i’ll help,” even when you’re dead tired and you need help yourself. 

this world is full of terrible things people can do to each other and yet we don’t see “pure” as the moments that matter. we see it as one black or white possibility: either you are a virgin and holy or you are unclean. but people are not blankets of snow. we don’t dirty for letting people in. no. when we love, we only become more beautiful.

[scenerybook]

[magic-of-eternity]

[dephus]

What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.

Pedro Arrupe (via ohteenscanrelate)

[abadabbygail]

I remember my first year in college, I took a cultural anthropology class and on the first day, the professor had a special assignment for us.  We were instructed to take out a blank sheet of paper and write our name in the middle.  In one class period (one hour and fifteen minutes), we had to write down as many words or phrases to define ourselves.  We would turn it in at the end of class and discuss it in the next lecture.  Based on the definition (and description) of the class, most of the students (including myself) had agreed that the assignment was used to see how we, as humans, see our own specific roles in society and where we fit in, and how it compares to others based on people of the same gender, race, culture, etc.  While she agreed to what we had said, never mind the fact that that this would come up in another lecture, this assignment was more so for us.

She then started asking us a series of questions.  The verbiage could be a little off, but it was something along the lines of... “How honest are you with yourself and others in pointing out not only your good attributes but even the opportunities you need to improve on?  How long would it take you to come up with words and phrases to define yourself if time was no issue?  How hard do you work to try to find the exact words or phrases to define yourself, and how much do you think about it before writing it down?  Do you have to validate it in your mind before being able to confidently state it?  Or do you have to look to others validation?   And how long would it take before you were confident enough to say ‘I am me’ without having to prove it? ”

The point of the assignment was this: we spend our lives looking for a definition--something that is definitive and that can be validated.  We live our lives in caution of what others will think, how others will react to us, and how any action we make or word we say will affect this definition.  But how long will we keep trying to prove ourselves to others before realizing that we are incapable of even proving it to ourselves?  How hard do we try to look for validation in others before realizing that the only true validation comes from within?  And even then, how long will it take for society as a whole to realize that in reality, nothing is definitive, especially humans.  In a world submerged in social media and the comments and likes that it comes with, we have allowed ourselves to believe that we cannot be something unless others can confirm it and we scare easy at the thought of change, even if it means as a better person.  We feel that we cannot celebrate something unless we have the affirmation that comes with 100 likes on Instagram or cannot grieve over something unless 50 people comment on the matter, and has drastically changed from having an opportunity to share these things with our loved ones to merely bragging to people we have not even spoken to in years.  We live in a time where a voice that matters is the voice that comes from a person behind a screen rather than the voice that has the ultimate upper hand--ourselves.

Now that I am a mother, this assignment has stood out to me more than I thought it ever could.  I admit--sharing on social media had become more of a bragging right than just to simply share.  But I hope for nothing more than to be able to raise my daughter in a way that she knows the only validation she needs to be herself is her own.  I hope for nothing more that she gains the confidence people nowadays lack to be alone and be others comfortably.  She may be more extroverted or more introverted, but I can only hope that I instill enough values of self-love and confidence so that she does not need to walk around trying to think of what defines her and what others can validate for her.  I also hope that seeing this in her will give me the confidence to see myself as more than just a mother and a wife, but as me.

[karl-shakur]

[thelitteringsof-ar]

What it means to be a friend

The dog is lying at my feet. The cat is lounging on the staircase. My coffee gently releases heat into the air.

There are people in my life that I hang out with for my own benefit. Be it networking, company, discounts, whatever. I admit it. I’m that kind of person sometimes. I think that defining moment for me is when they are at your feet crying, distraught because their family is falling apart, or when they confide in you exhausted and giving up. It’s when you listen intently, and your pupils dilate to absorb it all… When you feel what they feel. Empathy.

Where am I going with this? I ask myself frequently. You see, the problem and solution to being a perfectionist is thinking - a lot. Whether this or that will benefit me. Whether they will hurt me. If this is worthwhile. I’m learning to step outside my selfishness and give myself to people when they need me most. Yeah, sometimes it’s hard for me to stay up late for a friend who needs an ear. Sometimes it’s far for me to drive and pick them up if they’re not sober enough to get home safely. But… I do these things for them. It’s never to gain anything back, but always to show them they can trust me. That I’ve got their back. Despite being so full of myself, I devote myself to my friends and loved ones because as a human, that is all I can genuinely give.

Last night, my friend confided and me and gave me a hug when we parted ways after having McFlurries and French fries. She said thank you, and “I love you.” I heard it. The words were in my ears and through my brain. But I didn’t say it back. Not because it’s not true, but because I wanted to hear them echo again. That was the first time any friend has said that to me, and I’ll cherish that moment forever. It motivates me greatly to do good, to sacrifice time and sleep for the sake of peace of mind for others.

[theperksofbeingaprocrastinator]

Go to university, but go for the right reasons. Education isn’t a gun held to your head: it’s a weapon in your hands. Go not because you’re afraid of not getting a job but go because you love to learn, because you’re excited by ideas, because you believe that education is important for its own sake, and when you get there, pay attention, read everything you can get your hands on, cram yourself with words and figures and ideas, because that’s the one thing they can never take away from you.

Laurie Penney, The Independent, August 2012

[wnq-anonymous]

You shouldn’t try to stop everything from happening. Sometimes you’re supposed to feel awkward. Sometimes you’re supposed to be vulnerable in front of people. Sometimes it’s necessary because it’s all part of you getting to the next part of yourself.

Cecelia Ahern, The Book of Tomorrow  (via wnq-anonymous)

[dryyoureyes-startbelieving]

[abadabbygail]

I’ve lost many people in my life.  Most due to time and distance, others due to difference of opinion, some just drifted away or decided to embark on a separate path, and very few to death.  Though some of these people were significant, the amount of memories, despite the quality, could not even compare to over fifteen years’ worth.  And though some of these people held a place in my heart, none of them held as big of a place or had as tight of a grip as you.

Two days ago, I got a call from my mother announcing my lolo’s death.  In that phone call, it took every bit of strength in me to hold back whatever I was feeling in order to console my mother.  After all, I may have lost my grandfather, but she lost her father.  Since then, it feels as if I had to preoccupy my mind--as if I was not allowed to feel anything.  I was quick to end that phone call by telling my mother that my daughter was crying and needed my attention.  With that, we got off the phone, and I picked up my sleeping daughter and cried quietly to myself for a few minutes.  But I quickly wiped those tears and moved on with my day.  Since then, it seemed I could not cry unless I had an alternate excuse--watching a sad movie or even using postpartum.  But I could not (and to be even more frank, I still cannot) let myself feel anything related to this event.  Like a deep fog, I was waiting for it to creep over me and engulf me, but it has yet to happen.  I have subconsciously blocked out anything that could remind me of this, such as going on social media, or even just answering the question, “Are you ok?”  I am numb, and coming from someone who feels so connected to everything, I feel almost guilty because of it.  So why can I not allow myself to feel?

I am so blessed to have grown up with both sets of grandparents, and even more blessed to have maintained a strong relationship with one of them.  Many lose their grandparents at such a young age, whether to distance or death.  I even lost touch with my dad’s parents when they moved away.  But I have lived with at least one set of grandparents every year until high school, and then in high school, I was able to visit my mom’s parents every year.  They had moved to the Philippines when I was in the sixth grade, but when I was in high school, they ended up in Hawaii and we were able to see them every year ever since.  Prior to moving back to the Philippines, they had come to California to take care of me when I was a baby.  They were my caregivers, and shortly after my parents got divorced, I looked to my grandfather as a father figure whenever he was not around.  I remember little things, like him finishing my food at dinner so I would not get in trouble.  Or playing near him while him and my lola would pray the rosary at night.  Even sleeping with him from time to time.  Fast forward to my 18th birthday, and though he needed a cane to walk, he managed to be my first rose and danced with me.  And when I saw him last, not only did he promise to be there at my college graduation, he gave me “lucky” numbers to play the lottery with and told me I would win.  These are a few of the many good memories I have with him—memories that I have kept close for a very long time.  But along with the good memories come the bad ones.  Like, when I was a kid, he was in the hospital and when we went to visit him while he was admitted, I could not even come close to him.  I did not want to touch him or even look at him.  He was so big to me, physically and even mentally.  But when I saw him in that hospital bed, he looked so small, so powerless.  In that moment, I did not realize that he was going to get sick—a lot.  He’s battled quite a few obstacles, including cancer.  But he still lived such a blessed life, surrounded by many who love and adore him.  He left peacefully, with no pain, and because he was suffering for so long, it would be selfish of me to wish that he was still alive.  Nevertheless, I miss him so.

He was born March 18, 1925 and passed away March 10, 2016.  91 years on this earth, he was married for sixty years with my lola, had one son and five daughters, eight grandchildren, and six great grandchildren.  He taught a number of things and touched the lives of many, and has a place in the hearts of everyone he has ever met.  Everyone copes with loss differently.  Right now I am numb, maybe part of it is due to denial, and I miss him so much.  And though I am extremely saddened that I cannot come to the viewing or funeral, in some ways I am lucky that the last memory I have with him is one that cannot be tarnished.  He was a pastor, protector, and provider to our family.  And we love him so.

Rest in peace, lolo.  You will always hold a special place in my heart.

[elenamorelli]

[lastarpeggios]

Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.

Andrew Boyd - Daily Afflictions: The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe

[afadthatlastsforever]

I’ve always been enchanted by the endings of things. Series finales and sunsets. Last paragraphs and encores. I think for the way they remind me that losing something you love isn’t always sad and heartbreaking, but sometimes breathtaking and beautiful.

Beau Taplin // E n d i n g s  (via afadthatlastsforever)

[jedavu]