Wines & Prologues

To my twenty-something self, this is for you.

I saw it. Your struggles, your laughters, your sacrifices, your resilience, your tears, your dreams, the days you braved through with a smile—I saw it all.

The way you looked forward for the coming days with the kind of hope and positivity that you wondered where you’re getting. The way you always said, “It’s okay. It’s the spices of life” at every inconvenience that tore you a little. The way you worried for your future—those late night grinds and early morning to-do lists. The way you said, “next time, surely”. The way you silenced your demons. The way you tried to show up for people you cared for. The way you chose your words carefully because you didn’t want to hurt them. The way you held your head high when you walk to a room because you learned to fake confidence until you made it. The way you walked fast. The way you talked and stared with such authority. The way you romanticized life. The way you liked to be in control—to know every outcome, to only make calculated risks, to always back up Plan A with Plan B stretching all the way to Plan Z if you could think up to the end of the alphabet. The way you thought of other people first. The way you cried yourself to sleep sometimes. The way you went about your day like always. The way you tried to make sense of your place in this world. The way you walked fast.

There’s a lot more ways, a lot more instances, a lot more moments, that I saw you in and I’m telling you, it’s okay now.

To my twenty-something self, I want you to know where you led me into…

I am still positively facing the new day. It’s still vague to me where I get the drive from, but it’s there. The thought that I can power through this day because I am me never fails to amuse me and I am grateful for it.

I still say the same thing for almost every other inconvenience but not because it tore me little—well, sometimes, maybe—but now I know that things happen out of my control and that’s okay.

I still worry about the future, but I know that future me will be even wiser and stronger than both of us, so I trust her.

I still show up for people because I want to show up for them. I still choose my words, but sometimes I just let it out without much thinking and I’m telling you, it’s surprises me too, but I say, “I said what I said.”, shrug my shoulders and turn my back. It’s liberating.

I hold my head high walking into the room not because I’m trying to fake it, but I truly believe that I got it. You should see me strut that thang all the way to the front of the hall because all the seats at the back are taken.

I romanticize life even more now than before—because I know it’s actually important to do so. I see things—people, happenings—in rose-colored glasses, complete with sparkles.  We only have one of it—why waste it on being skeptical, right? I believe in the musings of the universe, in the magic that nature surrounds us with. I believe in timings now, in interventions, in waiting. I stargaze and moongaze a lot, listen to birds more often.

Speaking of universe and magic and timings… I learned how to read the tarot. I’m going to learn how to freedive, and I braved a 5-meters deck jump. I also ate seaweeds and oysters; you never liked the taste of the sea because you used to say that fish are friends, not food (except for tuna, I still love tuna). Isn’t that just amazing?

I’m learning to let go of control, of wanting to learn every outcome. I’m learning to let go of always knowing, always being one step ahead, always looking ahead—of basically holding on a future I’m not sure of. I’ve taken risks for the sake of taking them—because I believe it’s worth it.

I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. I still find myself lost somewhere, confused, hurt, you know, all those big emotions, but I’ve learned to acknowledge it, process it, and accept it. I learned ways to comfort myself, ways to calm my nervous system when everything’s too overwhelming. I’m more logical and grounded now.

We still want a place in this world and say, “I am here”, but now I also know that I leave a little bit of myself anywhere I go.

I try to travel often now, by the way. Something that you didn’t get to do because you were too busy with work and the business. The business, however, well, it’s still there, I still like to craft and I still get clients, but I’m not making it a priority right now like before.

I’m resting more. I’m learning to just be comfortable with doing absolutely nothing on the weekends. Oh, and I bake now! I still experiment on flavors. I’ve learned to cook more italian dishes and bread. I bake a very tasty carrot-banana bread.

I don’t avoid conversations with people now. Small talk still tire me because I always want to talk about big things, but I’ve learned to sit with the boredom.

I’ve open myself to the idea of love now. Remember the time when you were fixed on being that chic and rich auntie who does nothing but encourages her nieces and nephews to try new things because finding someone seemed like a chore and that the connection doesn’t really run that deep and you think you don’t feel understood, and because you didn’t want to let go of your independence? Yeah, I’ve let go of that notion. I now believe that I am destined for someone and someone is destined to me. It’s gonna be a challenge, and I might get hurt a few times, again, but spices of life, right?

Oh, and guess what? Remember getting frustrated about your weight because you tried to lose it again and again but instead of losing fats and building muscles, you’re losing motivation and building the thought that it is what is? GUESS WHAT? I am now 17kgs lighter than I was last year. Imagine that… 17kgs.

There’s still a lot I wanted to tell you that I might actually run out of words before I could address everything. I can only sigh at the limitations of my own vocabulary.

Anyway, to my very dear twenty-something self, thank you. The things you did that you thought were nothing and didn’t make sense, it was something, and it did make sense now. I am who I am today because of the choices you made. You can stop worrying now, I got this.

Sincerely, your thirty-something self.