Bare Words by Nessa

27/07/2026

Maybe it's just a Happy Meal to some people. To me, it's a little piece of healing.

When I bought the Spider-Man Happy Meal, I realized it wasn't really about the toy.

It was about finally giving something to the little girl in me who always wanted things but rarely asked for them.

As the eldest child, I naturally became the one who understood things. I wasn't the type to tell my parents, "I want this," or "Can you buy me that?" Not because I was scared of them, but because I knew our situation. I learned early on that if something wasn't a necessity, I could live without it.

My younger sibling was different. He could openly say what he wanted, and I admired that. I, on the other hand, would simply look at toys, smile, and quietly move on.

This isn't me blaming my parents or saying they failed us—far from it.

My parents are the best parents I could ever ask for. We weren't rich, but they made sure we had what truly mattered. We had food on the table, a roof over our heads, an education, and so much love. They sacrificed more than I probably realized as a child. I never felt neglected.

I think I just became someone who learned to suppress little wants because I didn't want to add to their burdens.

Now that I'm older and earning my own money, buying small things for myself feels different.

It's never just "a toy."

It's permission.

It's telling my younger self, "You don't have to feel guilty for wanting something just because it isn't essential."

It's reminding myself that I deserve little joys too.

Some people celebrate big purchases—a new phone, a new car, a luxury bag.

Me?

Sometimes my victories come in the form of a Spider-Man toy tucked inside a Happy Meal.

It may look childish from the outside, but to me, it's proof that healing doesn't always happen through grand gestures.

Sometimes, healing looks like finally buying the little things you once convinced yourself you didn't need.

And somehow, those little things become some of the biggest wins.

19/06/2026

Ang paulit-ulit na panlalait, pambabastos, at pagbitaw ng mga mapanakit na salita—lalo na yung ginagamit ang nakaraan mo para ipahiya ka—ay hindi “normal na away lang.” Isa itong anyo ng emotional abuse.

At mahalagang malinaw ito: kahit ano pa ang nakaraan ng isang tao, wala itong karapatan ang partner mo na gawing sandata para saktan ka ngayon.

Ano ang puwede mong gawin:

1. Kilalanin na may boundary na nalalabag
Hindi ito simpleng selos o insecurity lang kung paulit-ulit at sinasadya. Kapag ginagamit ang s*x life mo noon para ipamukha sa’yo na “marumi” ka o bastusin ka, iyon ay disrespect at control.

2. Mag-set ng malinaw na limit (boundary)

3. Tingnan ang pattern, hindi ang pangako
Kung paulit-ulit kahit napag-usapan na, ibig sabihin hindi lang ito “nadadala ng emosyon.” May pattern ng pagyurak sa’yo.

4. Huwag i-normalize o i-justify
Minsan sasabihin ng partner:

“Galit lang ako”
“Naiinis lang ako”
“Sinasabi ko lang ang totoo”

Pero kahit anong emosyon, hindi justification ang pambabastos.

5. I-prioritize ang emotional safety mo
Tanungin mo sarili mo:

Mas madalas ba akong nasasaktan kaysa napapakinggan?
Natatakot na ba akong magsabi ng totoo dahil sa magiging reaksyon niya?
Laging nakasentro ba ang usapan sa pag-atake sa akin kaysa sa problema?

Kung oo ang sagot, hindi na healthy ang dynamic.

6. Maghanap ng support system
Makipag-usap sa taong pinagkakatiwalaan mo (kaibigan, kapamilya). Ang ganitong situation, mas malinaw mo nakikita kapag may outside perspective.

7. Consider mo kung may pagbabago ba talaga
Ang tanong hindi lang “mahal ka ba niya,” kundi:

Kaya ba niyang igalang ka kahit galit?
Handa ba siyang itigil ang pananakit?

Kung hindi, kailangan mong pag-isipan kung hanggang saan mo kaya manatili sa ganitong setup.

📷 notmine

19/06/2026

Recently, my partner told me that I’m not as sweet as I used to be. There are things I used to say and do, especially during our intimate moments, that no longer come naturally to me now. Honestly, I didn’t even realize it until he pointed it out.

The truth is, I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. During the years we were apart, I went through struggles, heartbreaks, failed relationships, and personal battles that he knows very little about. Somewhere along the way, life changed me. My priorities shifted, my focus became different, and maybe a part of me simply grew tired.

It doesn’t mean I love him any less. If anything, my love today feels deeper and more intentional. I just express it differently now.

I know I have shortcomings, and I understand why he longs for the version of me he once knew. But I also hope he understands that people evolve because of the experiences they survive. Sometimes, what looks like distance is actually exhaustion. What sounds like silence is often a heart that has learned to protect itself.

Relationships are never perfect. We both have our own shortcomings, but I’ve always believed that love is not about keeping score. It’s about choosing each other despite the imperfections, the changes, and the scars we carry.

Maybe love is not about going back to who we were. Maybe it’s about learning how to love each other for who we have become.

25/05/2026

My daughter grew up far from her father because we separated when she was still young. And as a mother, I know there are wounds and emptiness that no amount of effort can completely erase. There are silent struggles she carries inside her, questions she may never openly ask, and pain that only I can truly see.

Maybe that is why I become so protective of her. Whenever someone misunderstands her, judges her, or holds anger toward her, my instinct is always to defend her — even if it sometimes creates conflict with the people around me.

It is not because I believe my child is perfect. It is not because I tolerate every mistake she makes. I simply know how much she has already endured growing up with the absence of a complete family. I saw how she learned to adjust, how she stayed strong, and how she quietly carried emotions that children should never have to carry alone.

As a parent, I constantly feel the need to make up for the things we were unable to give her before. And if there is one thing I want her to always feel, it is this: she will never face life without someone standing beside her.

Sometimes, the deepest form of a mother’s love is not just providing or nurturing — it is choosing to stand up for her child, especially when the world fails to fully understand them.

23/05/2026

29/04/2026

I watched The Devil Wears Prada 2, and I didn’t expect it to hit this close to home.

There’s something about seeing an industry slowly lose its grip on relevance that feels painfully familiar. In the film, the magazine world is no longer what it used to be—glossy pages replaced by instant content, curated editorials overshadowed by algorithms. And as I sat there, I couldn’t help but think about the cinema industry—the world I’m part of.

Movies used to be an experience. People would dress up, plan their schedules, and sit in a dark theater, fully immersed. Now, everything is just a click away. Streaming platforms, short-form content, endless choices online. And quietly, the magic of cinema feels like it’s fading.

There’s a scene that stayed with me. Miranda, strong and composed as always, opens up about her fear of the future. For once, she isn’t the powerful woman who controls everything—she’s uncertain, vulnerable. And then Stuart reassures her. He tells her that no matter what happens, she won’t lose everything. She still has her family. She still has him. That even if the world she built disappears, she won’t be alone.

That moment lingered.

Because I found myself asking the same question—what happens to me, to us, when this industry changes completely? When cinemas are no longer the center of entertainment?

It’s a scary thought. Not just losing a job, but losing a part of your identity.

But maybe the film wasn’t just about loss. Maybe it was also about what remains. That even when industries evolve or fade, we’re not left empty-handed. We carry our experience, our resilience, and the people who stand beside us.

And maybe that’s enough to begin again.

Still, I walked out of that movie with a mix of emotions—nostalgia, fear, and a quiet kind of hope. Because if there’s one thing stories have taught us, it’s that endings don’t always mean the end. Sometimes, they’re just the start of something we haven’t figured out yet.

19/04/2026

We recently lost one of our leaders after her fight with the big C. It was a heartbreaking moment for all of us.

But as days passed, work continued. Roles were filled, operations moved on—because that’s how business works. And it made me realize something: in the workplace, we are all replaceable.

But at home, we are not.

While the world moves forward, a family carries the loss forever. And that hit me deeply.

So here’s a reminder—to myself and to everyone:
Don’t let work take over your life. Spend time with your loved ones. Be present. Make memories.

Because in the end, they’re the ones who will truly feel your absence. 💜

12/04/2026

“Init o Bayarin: Ang Tahimik na Dilemma ng Pamilyang Pilipino”

Sa unang tingin, parang biro lang. Isang meme na nagpapatawa pero may kurot ng katotohanan: “Kapag walang aircon, mamamatay ka sa init. Kapag may aircon, mai-stroke ka naman sa taas ng electric bill… pili ka na lang ng tatapos ng buhay mo.” Nakakatawa—pero masakit.

Tbh, ganito ang reality ng maraming Pilipino. Hindi ito reklamo. Isang pagpipilian na parang walang panalo—comfort o gastos, kalusugan o kabuhayan.

Lumaki tayo sa concept ng isang kahig, isang tuka. Yung bawat desisyon may katumbas na sakripisyo. Hindi ka pwedeng maging komportable nang hindi iniisip kung saan kukunin ang pambayad. At hindi ka rin pwedeng magtipid nang todo kung ang kapalit naman ay kalusugan.

Naalala ko tuloy si Mommy.

Hindi naging madali ang buhay niya. Ang bahay na tinutuluyan nila sa Bacoor, hindi pa maayos—kulang sa ventilation, mainit, masikip. Sa ganung sitwasyon, kahit anong ingat mo sa katawan, parang kalaban mo na mismo ang paligid. May hypertension siya, at sa tingin ko, malaking factor din yung hirap ng kondisyon ng tirahan nila.

Noong nawala siya, hindi ko makalimutan yung itsura niya. Nakakunot ang noo, parang sobrang sakit, sobrang hirap. Hindi yun yung klase ng pamamaalam na gusto mong maalala sa mahal mo sa buhay.

Kaya ngayong ako na ang humaharap sa sarili kong reality—mataas na bilihin, tumataas na kuryente, at pati energy crisis—napapaisip ako.

Kung pagpipilian lang din, mas gugustuhin ko na lang sigurong magbayad ng mas mahal… basta komportable. Basta hindi ako, o ang pamilya ko, dumaranas ng sobrang init na parang unti-unting kumikitil ng lakas.

Hindi ito pagiging maluho. Para sa iba, ito ay survival.

Minsan, ang tunay na tanong hindi “mag-a-aircon ba ako o hindi?”
Kundi, “paano ako mabubuhay nang may kaunting ginhawa sa gitna ng hirap?”

At siguro, sa dulo ng lahat—
hindi natin dapat piliin kung paano tayo mahihirapan,
kundi kung paano tayo mabubuhay nang mas maayos, kahit papaano.

08/04/2026

06/04/2026

I’m Tired of Being the Strong One

I’m a single working mom with a family—but somehow, I’m always alone.

For months, I carried everything. Work. Hospital. Home. Two loved ones, back-to-back emergencies. No breaks. No backup. Just me—showing up every single day because I had no choice.

Now they’re okay. And everyone assumes I am too.

I’m not.

I’m drowning in exhaustion and now in financial pressure I can barely hold together. And still—no one asks if I’m okay. No one checks in. Instead, I hear complaints. I see the same careless habits, like nothing ever happened.

It’s exhausting being strong for everyone when no one is strong for you.

I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. And honestly—I don’t know how much more I can carry.