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Happy ​Anniversary, Self.

25 February 2024

Starting this blog feels a bit surreal. I mean, where do you even begin, right? And really? My ​first entry is on my first year anniversary? How ambitious!

Here I am, tapping away at my keyboard, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I ​embark on this blogging journey. Funny thing is, despite my stint as a feature writer and ​later as Managing Director at my university's publication, I still find myself wrestling with ​grammar and content organization. So, imagine my surprise when, during a publishing ​exam, I found out I ranked second for the best piece among seven of us. I still don't know if I ​should take it as a compliment when people say I write in a "Novel style."

But anyway.

Today marks one year since I took the plunge into ​solo living. The mixed emotions are real.

When I first shared my plan to live alone with my ​family, the reactions were far from supportive. “Pano ​sila mama at papa?” ("How about Mom and Dad?") ​my sister asked. “Ha? Iiwan mo na kami?” ("What? ​You're leaving us?") exclaimed my other sister, with a ​tinge of disbelief. My brother even chimed in with a ​mocking “Sus, sigurado ka ba?” ("Are you even ​sure?"). I admit, it stung.

You see, being the youngest of eight siblings comes with its own set of expectations. ​Apparently, it's my duty to put my life on hold to cater to my parents' needs as they age. ​But wait a minute, they're not incapacitated; they're just set in their ways. Still have their old ​bad habits and vices, but if in need, it’s my call of duty.

Growing up, I've learned firsthand how toxic Filipino family dynamics can be. There's this ​unspoken rule that elders are always right, and questioning their authority is a cardinal sin. ​When I expressed my desire to live solo, my own mother laughed in my face, undermining ​my plans with a simple “Tignan natin kung hanggang kelan ka tatagal” ("Let's see how ​long you last.") My father, in a different tone, expressed a sentiment of abandonment.

I was already 28 years old at that time.

Two months into my newfound independence, a laptop breakdown forced me to seek help ​from my family needing a place to stay and a co-working office in the city while waiting for ​my broken laptop to be fixed. That one-month stay at my “old home” turned into an ​unexpected nightmare. Lots of family drama and gaslighting like usual.

Yet, despite the chaos and discomfort, I found clarity. Living solo wasn't just about escaping ​toxic environments; it was about carving out my own path and setting healthy ​boundaries. It was about learning capabilities and silencing the doubts—both from within ​and from others. It was a personal quest to stand on my own, build boundaries, and ​venture beyond the expectations of family. Yes, they're family, but I felt deep down that it ​was time to forge a different path. It was time to make decisions without parental or sibling ​approval, a necessary step before my future husband arrives and we share a space again.

So, if you’re that person who has a tingly vibe or an itch to JUST DO IT, you are more than ​welcome to stay. Because this is a space for those who, like me a year ago, are ​overwhelmed by the prospect of living solo. I know how it feels, I was there just 365 days ​ago.

Consider this your 'Solo Living 101' or 'Solo Living for Dummies' guide. If your family isn't your ​source of support and your friends are busy carving their own paths as well, I'm here for ​you virtually, cheering you on and sharing my experiences, even the not-so-great ones, to ​help you prepare for the challenges that come with solo living in your mid-twenties. And if ​you must, consider it your crash course in solo living—a safe space where we share our ​triumphs and tribulations, and where I offer my two cents on navigating the murky waters ​of independence.

Again, thank you for reading.

And welcome to the Working Furmum Club!

Until next time,

K.