Some days I wonder who I really am.
Am I the “maldita” my family describes? The one who talks too harshly, acts too cold, too selfish, too prideful?
Sometimes I replay their words in my head and I start believing maybe there’s really something wrong with me.
But then I think about the people outside our house.
My patients see someone kind. Helpful. Intelligent. Someone who listens with empathy. My coworkers trust me because I work hard and show up when needed. My boyfriend sees me as beautiful, funny, and responsible.
How can one person be described so differently?
Maybe people only see the parts of me they experience. My family sees my temper, my distance, my boundaries.
But I wish they also saw the reasons behind them.
I wish they knew I save money because I dream of buying my dad a house in the Philippines someday. I want him to rest. I want him to retire peacefully after working so hard his whole life.
I wish they knew I’m not trying to be selfish.
I’m just trying to build a stable future for myself. Pay my debts. Live simply. Travel sometimes. Have a small complete family one day. A quiet life. A soft life.
I don’t dream of being rich. I just dream of finally feeling safe. And maybe the hardest thing to admit is this:
Despite how strong or “matapang” I act, I get hurt too.
Sobra.
Ang lungkot pala kapag pakiramdam mo walang nakakakilala sayo nang totoo. Ang lungkot pala ng maraming tao sa bahay pero pakiramdam mo mag-isa ka.
Maybe I do have flaws. I know I can be harsh when I’m upset. I know I push people away sometimes. But I also know my heart is not evil.
I am just tired.
Tired of being misunderstood.
Tired of carrying everything quietly.
Tired of pretending words don’t hurt me.
I hope one day people stop defining me only by my rough edges.
Because beneath all of that, I’m just someone trying her best to love, survive, and still keep her dreams alive.











