The Irony of What Not

Somewhere between growing up with a list of "do’s" from my parents and a digital feed full of "what not to do" from self-proclaimed life gurus, I realized something: life is basically one giant contradiction wrapped in good intentions and irony.

Let’s unpack, shall we?

The Irony of Advice

I was once told, “Just be yourself, and don’t care what people think!”
Cut to five minutes later, someone squints at my outfit and says it’s “brave, bold, seductive… and maybe not modest enough.”

Hmmm.... brave how?
Brave like I slayed a dragon on the way here?
Or brave like I clearly lost a fight with my closet and wore the consequences?

I wasn’t sure, but suddenly I cared a lot.
Scoreboard: Irony – 1, Me – curled up in self-doubt under a questionable jacket or worse a cardigan that screamed Manang ( old woman's) like fashion.

The Irony of Perfection

Perfection is the goal. But be authentic.
Be confident. But stay humble.
Be yourself. But not too much some parts of you might not be "aesthetic." 

But seriously, what even is aesthetic, anyway?

Minimalist neutrals? A curated feed? or just whatever makes other people comfortable with your existence?

The Irony of Self-Care

Bubble baths and face masks as a cure for burnout and stress, never mind the unpaid labor that quietly piles up behind the scenes.
Work-life balance is preached like gospel, but the hustle culture still gets standing ovation.
“Rest is resistance,” they say. But so is pushing through.

So, are we resting agressively now? I don't think so.

I'll admit, I've been guilty of this performative kind of self-care too.

But these days, I'm learning to prioritize rest not just through skincare rituals, but by choosing silence.

Silence from the endless pings of online life.

Silence from the noice of city hustles and people constantly performing productivity.

Sometimes, true self-care is not a scented candle, it is just not being available for everyone.

The Irony of Progress

Thanks to Wi-Fi and mobile gadgets, we’re more connected than ever—yet lonelier than ever.
We chase freedom through routines.
We gain knowledge faster, but somehow lose wisdom in the scroll.

We're evolving, sure, but are we really arriving?

Life, it seems, is full of ironic “what nots.”
Don’t say this. Don’t wear that. Don’t feel too much. Don’t rest too long. Don’t show up too real.

But maybe the trick isn’t to avoid them.
Maybe the real win is to laugh at them, learn from them, and live a little lighter in the process.

So here’s to the irony of what not, the things we’re warned against that somehow end up shaping who we are…
In the best possible, messiest, most gloriously human way.

Cheers to doing it “wrong,” and still turning out just fine.

XO,

Ai

My life is so boring, I could write a thriller about it.🙄🤭

• I read books and of course, hoard them like they’re going out of print.
• I meditate and pray a lot! ( sometimes for people who seriously need it.)
• I listen to podcasts like I’m earning a PhD in random knowledge.
• I play the same Spotify playlist every day like it’s a sacred ritual.
• I’m raising two sweet teenagers who think I’m both annoying and wise. (They’re not wrong.)
• I teach and mentor people to prioritize their mental health, set boundaries, and treat self-care like brushing teeth: daily and it is non-negotiable.
• I cook and bake at home. Not to impress, but to de-stress (and yes, I talk to my dough) and it is my love language.

• I paint and hoard brushes like I’m preparing for an art apocalypse.

  

  one of my paintings that made it to the USA

• I do weight training and breathwork because lifting dumbbells and exhaling dramatically is cheaper than therapy. ( I swear! been there and done that)
• My calendar is jam-packed from 6 AM to 11 PM, Monday to Sunday. I schedule “breathe” in between “replies to my SocMed notifications” and “remember to exist.”
• 10 PM is bedtime. It’s non-negotiable. Even Trump can’t move that slot.
• Rest is my secret weapon and it’s how I stay sane, sparkly, and sort of functional.

And honestly? I wouldn’t trade this gloriously “boring” life for anything.

Now tell me, what’s your brand of boring? 😏

Happy Father’s Day to the One Who Shows Up, Always

They say the most important decision in life is choosing the right partner. Every day, I'm reminded that I chose the right one. He isn’t perfect nor I'm far from a perfect wife, but he’s perfectly made for me, and together we’ve built a beautiful partnership in marriage.

Old photos of us, when our kids are still in their toddler years
The challenging years of being first time parents.

He always makes sure I get to my travel destinations safely whether by train, plane, or whatever means of transport I’m taking. He checks that I depart safely, arrive safely, and fully enjoy every journey. He supports me as I build this life, these experiences, for myself and for us.

Today, I’m reminded once again that he truly is the one for me because I see how devoted and hands-on he is as a father to our two wonderful children. Since day one, I’ve witnessed the kind of dad he is, and how his relationship with our kids continues to grow, inspiring him to become an even better person.

He starts by acknowledging my weaknesses and fills the gaps with love, respecting me, my boundaries, not just because I’m his wife, but because I’m a woman worthy of respect and honesty. There’s no ghosting, no gaps in communication. Instead, he makes sure everything is grounded in faith. Our children were born out of love and he reminds me of that every single day.

With that being said, no wonder he is truly stepping into his role as a father because he has a strong foundation: his faith and a clear mindset about the sacredness of love in marriage, as we nurture our children into adulthood.

Today is Father’s Day here in Poland.

Wszytkiego najlepszego z okazji Dnia Ojca! ❤️

Let’s normalize acknowledging and lifting up the wonderful dads of our children, and our own fathers too. 💙

Kilig or Coping? A Grown-Up Love Story (With Myself)

 Lately, while writing something completely unrelated, I paused mid-sentence and thought:

"Wait… is this kilig? Or is this just a trauma response in disguise?"

That one question spiraled into a rabbit hole of curiosity. So here we are.

Do You Still Feel Kilig at This Age?

(By the way, I’m in my mid-40s—yes, I am!) 😌

Let’s be real: kilig hits differently these days.
Gone are the high school days when a simple “Hi” from your crush could make your heart do jumping jacks. Now, it takes more than just butterflies, it takes emotional safety, clarity, and a solid check-in with your inner child.

So, QOTD (Question of the Day):
Do you still feel kilig at this age? Or are we all collectively living in our manhid era? 😂

I asked myself this too, and here’s my honest answer:
Rarely na, gurl. And when it does happen, it’s situational AF.

It depends on:

• Who the person is

• What kind of connection we have

• The context (Was it 2AM or 2PM?)

• And more importantly… is the feeling safe or is it lowkey triggering?

Because here’s the kicker:
Not all kilig is created equal. Sometimes, what feels like spark is actually our nervous system reacting to something familiar like chaos, inconsistency, or unhealed wounds.

When Kilig is Actually a Trauma Response

Yep. That soft flutter in the chest? Sometimes it’s not love or romance, it’s survival mode dressed in dopamine. 😬( slap in the face)

I’ve had to ask myself:

• Am I feeling excited because someone’s presence is calming and kind?

• Or am I “excited” because my system is on high alert, trying to win validation or recreate old patterns?

It’s tricky, right?

So now, I find myself wondering:
Is this real kilig or just my inner child clinging to a red flag? 🚩🤡

The Adulting Version of Kilig.....

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in love, spark, and all things kilig.
But these days, it looks different.

It’s feeling seen during a deep convo.
It’s someone remembering how you take your coffee.
It’s peace in their presence and not chaos.
It’s being attracted to people who feel like growth, not confusion.

So my final thoughts...

To anyone out there who still feels kilig, I see you.
To those who don’t anymore—you’re not broken. Maybe you’re just healing.
And to those wondering if what they’re feeling is real or just a trauma loop: keep asking. Self-awareness is hot now.

How about you?
Do you still get kilig? Or do you also have moments where you’re like:
"Wait… is this healing or just high-functioning heartbreak?"

Let’s talk in the comments. 👇

Is the Philippines Truly Free?

Today marks the Independence Day of my beloved country , the Philippines.

photo when I took my oath as dual citizen

The land of my birth.
The land of my ancestors, my heritage.
The land where I was raised, where my values were nurtured and at times, shaken.
It is where I first discovered who I am, and began to write the character I would become in the story of my life.

But after living away for nearly two decades, I find myself asking:
Is the Philippines truly free?

Free from turmoil?
Free from exploitation, from harassment especially from foreign interests?
Has the soul of our nation ever really had a chance to breathe freely?

Distance has sharpened my love for my country.
It has deepened my awareness of our struggles, our resilience, and our pain.
I think of the land where I once ran barefoot as a child, innocent of history, unaware of how many times this land was violated, invaded, controlled.
And yet, we remain standing. We remain Filipino.

Living away has made me fall in love with the Philippines all over again not blindly, but with eyes wide open.
I see its beauty. I also see its chaos.
I feel pride. I also feel frustration.

I am proud of our resilience, our warmth, our strength as a people.
Yet I’m also pained by the tangled politics, the erosion of values, the way we sometimes forget who we are.
But no matter how far I go, I do not forget. I do not deny.
The Philippines is my home. It will always be.

On this Independence Day, I honor the land that gave me life. As I took my oath of allegiance to my country, I vowed to never forget my roots, nor turn away from the place where my soul was first shaped.

And I continue to hope, dream, and fight for a freedom that goes beyond celebration…
A freedom that truly lives in the hearts of every Filipino.

I am always a proud Filipina — sa puso, sa salita, at sa diwa.

xo,

Ai