I’m kind of inspired to blog today, which I haven’t done like in ages. Wish I have all the time in the world to write every single day. I always want to write about something randomly, but I just end up not doing it because, at one point, I worry so much about how people will handle or look at how I write and view things. And it also because there are so many things to do that I couldn’t get any time to do this. But it is always in my heart to express myself, my thoughts through writing. If some point, I could inspire someone through it, I would love to keep doing this.
“You’re deep.” I’ve heard this a lot of times. I usually show the jolly part of me but for some, like the closest ones, I instantly share my deep self. Or let me say, I am a very open person. I guess? I trust people easily and I get to share my true self if I feel comfortable with a person. Or simply, I am an open book. If you follow my past blogs, I shared mostly about my personal stuff. And I don’t feel bad about them, I think I don’t mind if people will judge me? I just don’t care, anymore. Well, I did, before. But now I don’t care. This is one of the things I am passionate about, I feel better when I do this and this keep going because I love doing this – writing, blogging.
I am writing to express myself not to impress someone. I feel like I am a different person when I start to type my thoughts and put my heart into it. Hmm. different person? I said it wrong, actually. I am being myself. Those words that I couldn’t say, thoughts that continually screaming on my head. I couldn’t say them so I write about it.
I am not gonna boast but I think I am a good listener. When someone is sharing serious things to me, I am that person who just tries to put my feet on their shoes. When I was a youth leader in our church in the Philippines, I have heard a lot of painful stories, heartaches, breakdown, family problems, financial problems. Gosh, name it. Anything under the teenage lives. I and my sister somehow became their counselors. Do not get me wrong, I love doing that. Not that I love the pains they’re going through but the part that I am that someone who can listen when they needed it.
Listener. For many years, I was one of the people they run to when they are going through tough times, and I am flattered. I thank God for the strength and wisdom and for the trust they have given me. Up to today, there are some of them who still remember me and keeping in touch even I am miles away. And I appreciate it, thank you so much! I do not want to sound I am the kindest person in the world ever, please do not get me wrong. I was grateful for the Lord gave me the chance to be their encourager and like a loving ate to them. (ate is an older sister in our language, Tagalog) because these kids, I am telling you, they just need someone to listen to. Someone who understands how they feel. That’s all. You win their hearts.
But with all honesty, at one point in my life, I got tired and burnt out. People look up to you, they think that you are always strong, that you are not allowed to be weak, you are not allowed to make mistakes. You try to help to make them feel better but they never have seen you struggling. They don’t see you weak. Because you are known to be that someone who will make them feel strong. It wasn’t me actually, it was GOD. I was just letting Him used me. God’s grace is just sufficient, and I am forever grateful for that. I do not want to be a bother to anyone, so I chose not to share my weaknesses. I chose to handle them on my own and just simply give them, surrender them to God. God comforts but let’s just be real here, I am human. I am imperfect.
That’s when my love for writing begins. I let my heart out through my writing. Besides from singing my voice and lungs out, HAHA I love to write to express myself – the jolly one and the weak one. It’s not about having a dual personality but I am just being who I really am. I struggle too, I cry too, I get angry too, and most of the time, I couldn’t say my words bluntly, I write them out. And it feels better. I just feel free.
I started blogging a few years ago because of the feeling that I am not being heard and understood. And in here, no matter how bad I am at this, I feel like I have a voice. I had moments when I couldn’t speak it up, they were screaming on my head and then I felt better when I wrote about it.
Today, I want to share the part of me that is about to explode. I am being bullied. And I don’t like it. Who would like it, anyway? I can’t say it because I am avoiding trouble but it honestly bothering me these days. Even though I said it to some and thought I am not affected or don’t care anymore, a part of me is kind of sad. But to be positive about it, it toughens me. To not worry how they treat me, is a tough one. right? For a sensitive person like me, it is not easy.
Living in a foreign country isn’t easy either. When you have to strive harder to live on the island legally, when you accepted any job including being a maid even you are a degree holder, even you finished your college, you have a diploma. You just have to keep going to be legal and abide by the law. When they step on you, you let them because you couldn’t stand for yourself, you just have to swallow it, cried it out and move on the next day. When you are being yelled at because you couldn’t carry an item three times or four times heavier than you, and accused of getting their things.
And recently, when people look down on you because you don’t speak their language when they don’t want to work with you when your colleague tells everyone not to speak English with me and tells you how terrible I am for living in the island for many years and I don’t speak it. Rolled eyes.
Let me tell you, I understood and I speak it a little. They can’t expect me to speak it fluently. And the job I have right now, I talk mostly to English speaking clients. I am not trying to justify it, I know I have to learn it, it’s just it takes time. But I am being judged, looked down and bullied because I am not local.
“You don’t belong here.” a voice telling me.
It’s sad because they don’t even know me. But what is the saddest part? I let them. I allowed them. I let them step on me. I let them look down on me because I avoided confrontation so the result is, I am not myself. I cry my eyes out, I am hurt and it feels like I am the one who did something wrong. I am writing this because it is not about them anymore. It is me. It is me to toughen. I have to stop them there. I have to learn to stand up for myself.
I won’t let anyone look down on me, step on me. ANYMORE. It has to stop.
On the other hand, a person who is so mean has something rough going on in her/his life, full of hatred and insecurities. I pity those people. But this is not an excuse to treat other people bad. We all have to grow up and learn from experiences. This is so hard for me to say or do but I will pray for them. IF this is something I can only do so they will encounter God’s goodness in their lives, I will do it. I will try my best to still be nice no matter how they treat me.
For them: I don’t expect you to be my friends, just respect me as a person. And It’s enough.
Lastly, don’t mess with a person who loves to write.
