Mishie

A collection of moments, thoughts, and stories written from the heart. This blog is my personal journal. A space where I can simply be, and maybe where you’ll find pieces of yourself too.

[thoughtkick]

“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown

[msviatorem]

05-12-2026

A lot has happened over the past week, and my heart feels so full thinking about it all.

I finally got to spend beautiful, meaningful time with my family, especially with Mama, after such a long while. It became one of those memories I know I’ll quietly hold close to my heart for a very long time.

We went on a little family getaway to celebrate both my birthday and Mother’s Day. Nothing extravagant, just a simple overnight stay filled with good food, laughter, and togetherness. We prepared meals, spent time wading around the pool for almost an hour, and simply enjoyed the water and each other’s company. We talked, laughed, and shared little moments that felt so warm and comforting.

Before all of that, Baba prepared a surprise for Mama. He bought her a bouquet of roses and a cake for Mother’s Day. Seeing Mama so happy, and a little emotional, touched me deeply. It was such a soft and beautiful moment for our family.

I feel so grateful and genuinely happy. Little by little, we are slowly patching things up, and it means so much to me. I thank God for allowing these moments to happen and for using Baba to help bring our family closer again.

[msviatorem]

Communication is one of the most important foundations of any relationship—especially in a long-distance one where you rely almost entirely on messages and calls. Without physical presence, even a small misunderstanding in words or tone can easily turn into something bigger.

Lately, I’ve been noticing a pattern between us. Whenever we talk about finances, it often leads to miscommunication and heightened emotions. I find myself becoming sensitive every time additional expenses come up—things like household needs, groceries, or emergencies. These aren’t luxuries. In fact, I rarely spend on myself at all. I can’t even remember the last time I bought something as simple as a facial wash or any personal item without hesitation.

And yet, whenever I bring these things up—especially when payments are due—I feel anxious. It’s hard to even start the conversation because I already expect a reaction. There’s always something to say about it, and it makes me feel like I have to justify needs that are, in reality, essential. This resource I rely on isn’t something I misuse—it’s something I depend on.

What makes it more difficult is how our conversations end. When I try to explain my side or express how I feel, it often gets dismissed. He says he’s tired, and the discussion stops there. But when I try to stand my ground, I’m labeled as “nagging.” It leaves me feeling unheard and exhausted.

After four years together, it’s painful to feel like I’m still not fully understood. I’m left questioning where I stand and how I’m supposed to communicate anymore. I don’t want conflict—I want clarity, understanding, and a space where I can speak without feeling like I’m doing something wrong.

Right now, I’m just tired of feeling this way.

[quotefeeling]

“Be the kind of person who leaves a mark, not a scar.”

— Unknown

[landsccape]

[msviatorem]

In life's uncertainty I must learn to seek God. To acknowledge my limitations and his sovereignity. Seek His wisdom. Always turn to Him. There are times in my life where I worry myself to the things that's beyond my control and grip when all I need is to turn to Him and have faith. As God is always working good. Surrendering my worries doesn't mean I'm being lazy or irresponsible. It only means I'm acknowledging my limitations.

[kwentoniblack]

Fluent in Nighshift

They told us. . . “Study hard so you do not end up answering phones for a living.”

But here we are. College graduates. Former honor students. Working professionals. Speaking better English than our politicians just to say

“I am sorry for the inconvenience, sir.”

Call Center Is the Country’s Great Accidental Gathering Place

You will find everyone here.

The Psych major who can profile a customer’s trauma mid-call. The Nursing graduate who could not get a visa but memorized their QA metrics. The rich kid na naka tatlong course bago nag decide na pera muna, growth later. The loud bakla na may British accent on Mondays, Australian on Fridays. The breadwinner who types “I understand where you are coming from” while hiding past due bills.

Hindi ito dream job. Pero hindi rin ito basta basta.

It is the job that pays your rent, feeds your siblings, and slowly takes your soul one call at a time.

What They Do Not Tell You

The BPO is not just a job. It is a parallel universe where

3AM or 4AM is lunch break. Productivity is counted in mouse clicks and bathroom time. You learn to cry silently between calls, kapag baguhan ka pa. You get shouted at by someone 8000 miles away and still say thank you.

Pero Masaya Rin Kahit Papano

Yes, we joke about it.

We say call center trap yan. We laugh at each other’s fake accents. We tease each other for having a call center barkada na parang kulto sa pantry at smoking area.

But deep down, there is a strange kind of love in it.

You have not really lived until you have

Slept in the sleeping quarters beside a stranger na amoy Lucky Me. Chismisan sa floor habang may crisis tungkol sa metrics. Na promote tapos nag resign two weeks later dahil wala nang thrill. Inampon ng bakla sa wave mo kasi wala kang baon.

So What If This Was Not the Dream

We did not sell out. We just did what we had to.

Because in this country hustle is not ambition. It is survival.

And if you think we are less than just because we take calls at night and speak in accents that are not ours

Maybe you have never known what it feels like to carry an entire family on a headset.

[msviatorem]

29

In a few days, I will be turning 29, and honestly, it feels surreal. Almost a decade has passed in what feels like the blink of an eye. As this new chapter approaches, I find myself looking back on the years behind me, on the moment I stepped into adulthood and all the highs and lows that came with it. I also find myself reflecting on my prayers.

I feel deeply blessed and loved. Through everything I’ve gone through, I was never truly alone. I remember the moment I invited the Lord to walk with me through life, when I surrendered everything to Him. From that point on, life was never smooth. It was often a bumpy, winding road. But no matter how difficult or uncertain things became, He never forsook me. He walked with me through it all.

I also remember my fears of walking through life alone, of not finding someone who could understand my chaotic mind, someone who could embrace my whims and complexities. There was a time I nearly gave up on that part of my life. But I remember being on my knees, praying and crying out for something I could barely even put into words. Just like His promises in Jeremiah 17:7 and Matthew 6:33, He answered through a love and companionship I didn’t even know how to ask for.

Looking back, I’m in awe of the journey I’ve had with Him. When I surrendered everything, the life I once planned for myself did not unfold the way I expected. But what He gave me instead is far greater than anything I could have imagined. Truly, I could not ask for more.

As I turn 29, I dedicate this life and this celebration to the glory of God. I am who I am, and I am where I am, because of His love. This life may look different from the one I once mapped out, but it has led me exactly where I am meant to be, in His beautiful will.

Mish

[msviatorem]

When Love Turns Into Exhaustion

This is so frustrating.

I never imagined I’d be writing this, but here I am tired, confused, and grieving someone who is still alive. His gambling addiction is getting out of hand, and the man I’m seeing now feels like a stranger. This is not the person I knew. Or maybe it is, and I just didn’t want to see it.

I keep asking myself the hardest question: Is this because of me? Did I fail somewhere along the way? Did I love too much, forgive too easily, hope for too long?

The smoking. The gambling. The cheating.

I closed my eyes to all of it because I focused on the good, the moments where he showed up, the times he was kind, the version of him I believed in. I told myself that everyone has flaws, that love means patience, that people change when they’re loved enough.

But now I’m wondering if I wasn’t being patient, if I was blinding myself from the truth.

There’s a quiet kind of pain that comes from realizing you did your best and it still wasn’t enough to save someone from themselves. I stayed. I tried to understand. I forgave things that broke parts of me. I hoped even when hope felt unreasonable.

And now… I feel like I’ve lost hope in him.

Not because I didn’t love him enough but because loving him started costing me myself.

This isn’t an entry about hate. It’s about exhaustion. It’s about the sadness of watching someone choose habits, addictions, and escapes over healing. It’s about the moment you realize that effort alone cannot fix what someone refuses to face.

I did my best. And maybe that has to be enough.

[msviatorem]

Hello, 2026.

Christmas 2025 was supposed to be special. It was meant to be our first Christmas together in our new home—our first chance to start a little family tradition of our own. I carried that hope quietly, holding onto the idea that this season could finally feel safe and warm for me.

But it didn’t turn out the way I imagined.

The holidays have always been complicated for me. They carry old memories from growing up, and this year, many of those feelings resurfaced. After dinner on Christmas Eve, he wanted to spend more time with his family. I understood. So around 10 p.m., we drove to his family’s place and welcomed midnight with them. I tried to be okay with it, even though I had hoped we would spend that moment together—just us, in our little home.

We got back around 2 a.m.

On Christmas morning, he left again to be with his family. There was a small gathering, and I waited, expecting he’d come home after. But he didn’t. He stayed the entire day and returned late at night. That was the moment it really sank in. Christmas is a special day, and I felt like I wasn’t chosen. I couldn’t stop wondering if he had grown tired of our company, if he was happier and more excited being with them than being with me.

It hurt more than I expected.

By New Year’s Eve, I was already emotionally exhausted. When his family asked him to spend dinner with them again, something in me snapped. We had prepared food that went untouched. The night we were supposed to welcome a new year together felt ruined before it even began. I had nothing prepared to wear, and yet he pushed me to come anyway—so much so that he even suggested I just wear one of his t-shirts.

I felt invisible.

I am a woman. I want to feel presentable, even just a little. I want to feel considered. But in that moment, it felt like none of that mattered to him. All he wanted was to leave. When he said he had “had enough of our company,” it cut deeper than I can put into words.

This holiday season was the worst one I’ve had in a long time—not because of grand fights or dramatic moments, but because of the quiet realization that I felt alone during the days that were supposed to feel the most together.

I’m stepping into 2026 carrying this truth with me. Not to hold onto bitterness, but to finally acknowledge my pain. I deserve to be chosen. I deserve to feel like home too.

[msviatorem]

What is marriage?

One answer that truly stayed with me is this: marriage is a daily commitment—a choice you make in every decision, every reaction, every moment. In its simplest form, it is the willingness to continuously choose your partner, again and again, even on the days when it’s hard. Especially on the days when forgiveness is required.

It isn’t easy. But it is worth it.

And yet, I find myself wondering—should I feel bad?

We’re not even married, and still, we move like one. We compromise like a married couple. We choose each other like a married couple. We carry the weight, the patience, the understanding—without the sanctity of marriage to name it.

Sometimes I question if we’re doing too much too soon. If we’re giving the effort of marriage without having crossed the line that makes it sacred.

But maybe love doesn’t always wait for titles. Maybe commitment begins long before vows are spoken. And maybe what we’re doing isn’t wrong—just unfinished.

[thoughtkick]

“Close your eyes and imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.”

— C. Assaad

[frachella]

https://www.instagram.com/frachella/

[landsccape]

[msviatorem]

Dearest Baba,

I’ve come to realize that you don’t really notice the little things about me. I was so excited to share this book with you. Every page is filled with my love, my thoughts, my quiet declarations meant only for you. I waited for you to ask about it, to show even a bit of curiosity. I poured so much effort and emotion into each page, but over time, I slowly felt that it didn’t matter to you. Maybe this kind of thing just isn’t for you. I don’t know anymore.

Still, I keep writing. Writing has become my way of easing the pain and sadness I carry. We’ve been together for months, yet lately you feel so distant. Even the rare moments we spend together don’t feel intimate anymore. You’re often on your phone, somewhere else, while I sit right in front of you. I’ve been the one planning our little dates, the small moments I hoped would bring us closer. Eventually, I stopped. And you didn’t even notice.

I love you. I love you so deeply, and I know I always will. I just hope that one day, I get to feel the same kind of love I give so freely to you. I wish that one day, without me asking or reminding you, you would show up with something small, something thoughtful. That you’d ask me out on a date simply because you wanted to. That you’d remember our special days because they mattered to you too.

If you ever find this book, I know it won’t be because you were looking for it. You probably won’t remember it exists. But maybe one day, you’ll come across it by accident. And if you do, I hope you remember this. I loved you with every beat of my heart, with the deepest core of my being.

[msviatorem]

This weekend has been an eye-opener for me. I realized how much I’ve been blessed with, even in the simplest things. We have food on the table, the fridge is full, we have a comfortable home, a cool room to sleep in, and our sweet furbabies who bring warmth and joy every day.

But more than anything, I’m grateful for my partner. He’s loving, patient, and understanding in ways I sometimes don’t deserve. Having ADHD makes it hard for me to regulate my emotions. When things get too overwhelming, I lose sight of all the good around me. I get caught up in my own thoughts and end up saying or doing things that hurt him. It pains me every time I realize how much my emotions can take over.

Still, he stays. He listens, forgives, and loves me through every high and low. I know that’s not easy, and I don’t take it for granted. I can’t imagine being with anyone else but him.

Tonight, my heart feels full. I’m thankful to God for reminding me of how loved I am and for giving me a partner who makes me feel safe even when I’m at my worst. I may not always get it right, but I’m learning, and I’m grateful.

[quotefeeling]

“What is success? It is being able to go to bed each night with your soul at peace.”

— Paulo Coelho