aealect

[aealect]

not left behind, just on a different path

i remember writing once that i felt left behind. my batchmates had already graduated. some were professionals, starting their careers, making moves i thought i was supposed to be making too. and there i was—still a working student, juggling deadlines and shifts, unsure of where i was headed.

back then, that sadness felt so real. like i was stuck. like life was moving forward without me.

but recently, as i sat with myself. i paused everything just long enough to ask the hard questions. what do i really want? where is all of this going? and in that moment of stillness, i realized something important.

it wasn’t really about being left behind.

the sadness came from something deeper: from realizing that my timeline is different. that the life i want doesn’t follow the same route as everyone else’s. i started questioning the process, wondering if my dreams were valid.

my goals aren’t the same as theirs. the things i dream of, the kind of life i want to live—it’s not the standard, not the usual. and because of that, i had questions. i doubted the things i wanted to pursue because they looked nothing like the paths most people around me were taking.

it’s strange how loud the world can be when you're doing something different.

we're taught to believe there’s only one way to succeed—graduate, get a job, move up, settle down. but what if your journey looks nothing like that? what if your dreams aren’t linear?

mine aren’t. and that doesn’t mean i’m behind.

it just means i’m walking a different road—one that’s slower, quieter, but fully mine.

[aealect]

a quiet conviction

when i was younger, i had this quiet desire to go to spain and live there. i didn’t have any concrete reasons. there was no grand plan or specific motivation—it was just a feeling, like my heart knew something my mind didn’t yet understand. i simply felt drawn to it, like i would belong there in some way.

as i grew older, that desire never really left. i always believed, somehow, that i’d get there. but the more i thought about it deeply, the more i felt a weight pressing on me, this quiet conviction asking, “okay, but how?” the questions began to swirl: are the things you're doing now helping you get to spain after college? what steps are you taking? i didn’t want to sit with those thoughts. they felt too real, too uncomfortable. so i ignored them. i buried them under the noise of everyday life.

it started to feel less like a dream and more like a wish, something far off, fragile, and uncertain. and when people asked me what i wanted to do after graduation, i never really knew what to say. the truth was, i didn’t know. i had no clear path, no solid direction.

but yesterday, on the 24th of may 2025, something shifted. i had time to be still. i paused. i asked myself, what am i doing with my life right now? for a long time, i’d been praying, asking the Lord to give me the heart to desire something—not just to want it, but to desire faithfully and wholeheartedly.

and in that quiet space, something became clear: i’m not going to take the psychometrician board exam. yes, i’ve always said i love psychology. i used to want to be a psychologist. but in this season of my life, that passion feels like it’s flickering. the fire just isn’t there anymore. and that’s okay.

i’m rediscovering my goals. i’m rediscovering myself. for the first time, i know what to say when someone asks about my plans after college: i want to go to spain. not to settle there forever but to breathe its air, learn its rhythm, and let myself grow in a new place. and i know, eventually, i’ll come back to the philippines. but first, i need to go.

i’ve spent almost two years working in the corporate world now. next next week, i plan to reapply for a japan-based ESL job online. i want to add that to my experience because i’m thinking of applying as an english teaching assistant. starting early, gaining related experience feels like the right step. it feels aligned.

i’m thankful. thankful for this desire, for this renewed drive, for this clarity. whatever God’s purpose for me is in spain, i trust in His provision. i don’t have all the answers yet, but for the first time in a long time, i feel like i’m walking toward something real.

and for now, that's enough.

[aealect]

the ones who never needed explaining

the safest kind of familiar. the ones i’m simply comfortable being with. the ones who know so much about me. who know my family, the ones i can be the rawest version of myself with. the ones who, i believe, truly know me to the bones.

to bajoy — who’s very selective with the people she lets in. the one whose desire to give back to her loved ones is deep and fierce. the one who’s noble. the one who’s a cleanliness geek and proud of it.

to bebs — who has loved sacrificially. the one who would trade her comfort for your welfare. who would put herself last for her loved ones in a heartbeat. the fun one. the one who knows exactly how to take care of her friends like a real mom would.

to balot — the quiet one, but you can see her heart through the way she shows up. she works hard without making a big deal out of it, always thinking of how to give back to her family, especially her parents. she’s focused, grounded, and one of the most dependable people we know. she may not say much, but when she does, you listen — because it’s always real.

we are so different in so many ways, but we share the same friendship culture carved into our hearts. i praise and thank God for these people.

[aealect]

a prayer for when i sit with my cares

Lord,

i come to you not with strength,

but with the ache i’ve been carrying quietly.

i don’t have the right words,

just a heart that feels tired

and dreams that feel far.

i want to be okay.

but today—i just want to be held.

i’ve tried to be strong.

but maybe today,

you’re inviting me just to be soft

and let you be strong for me.

if i’m stuck,

let me trust that You are still moving.

if i’m still,

remind me that roots grow deep in the dark.

you see every tear i don’t cry,

every thought i don’t speak,

every hope i’ve quietly hidden away.

sit with me in this, God.

not to fix me—

just to be near.

that’s all i need right now.

and somehow,

i believe You’ll carry me from here.

[aealect]

i'm at work. it's just a regular day, but i feel like crying. maybe it's hormones. maybe it's more than that. i've been feeling off inside—like there's this quiet ache i can’t really shake off.

i thought about it, and i guess... if i really sit with my cares, i feel left behind. like life is moving forward for everyone else, and i’m stuck. friends i love are about to leave the country to chase their dreams, and i’m here—still. i have a job, but it’s not the one i dream about. it barely pays enough, and i carry a lot of responsibilities on my shoulders. i want something better, like a remote job that can ease the weight.

i’m serving in ministry—and yes, it brings me joy—but deep down, i still feel like i’m not growing. not in the way i long to. not in the way that feels like progress.

it’s a heartbreaking thing to feel stuck and unable to move. to wonder if you’re just standing still while life passes by.

i know God is with me even here. but some days, it’s just hard. and today is one of them.

[aealect]

the mystery of His ways

man cannot know the fullness of God’s ways. what we see as good, God may withhold—not out of indifference, but because He knows it is not His best for us.

isaiah 55:9 — “for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

God, the alpha and the omega, holds the beginning and the end in His hands. His view is not confined to the moments we call "now." He sees the tapestry of eternity, weaving every thread of joy and sorrow, triumph and trial, into a pattern that reveals His perfect will.

our hearts wrestle with this mystery. why does He allow the storm when we pray for calm? why does He close the door when we seek to walk through it? yet, in the silence of unanswered questions, we are reminded of His sovereignty. His ways are not ours, nor are His thoughts bound by the limits of human reason.

[aealect]

it’s strange, isn’t it?

for so long, i wanted to be noticed—to be seen, valued, and validated by the world. like many of us, i thought significance was found in the eyes of others, in applause, in the recognition of the crowd. but, i’ve realized something life-changing: the world’s gaze no longer holds the weight it once did.

i don’t want to be caught in the endless web of expectations and performances anymore. i don’t need to measure my worth against how well i meet the world’s standards or how many boxes i check off. instead, i’ve started to crave something deeper—something quieter. i want my inner dialogue to reflect not the chaos of the world, but His voice, His guidance, and His truth.

i've found a freedom i didn’t know was possible. a freedom to simply be still.

oh, i don’t need the world to recognize me anymore, because His recognition is all that matters. and friends, i can tell you—it is enough.

[aealect]

am i past my prime?

i used to live at the summit of my career, always on top, the pinnacle of success within reach. at 19, i was more than just a beginner. failing stats were foreign to me—a language i didn’t speak, a place i’d never visited.

but now, at 23, the air feels heavier. the fire that once burned so brightly flickers in a way i can’t quite understand. i have a good job, and my tasks get done. the numbers are fine, the emails answered. yet, somewhere deep inside, it feels different.

the rhythm i once thrived on feels like a treadmill i can’t get off. it’s as though the thrill of winning has faded into the mundane. i find myself wondering if this is what it feels like to be past my prime. i question if my best days are behind me, if the heights i once climbed were the peak, and now there’s nowhere left to ascend.

it’s not failure i fear—it’s the absence of that spark. i’m stuck between gratitude for what i have and longing for what i’ve lost.

but maybe, just maybe, this isn’t an ending. perhaps this is the space between peaks, the valley that forces me to reevaluate and recalibrate. maybe i haven’t lost my prime but am simply redefining what it means. success isn’t a single moment frozen in time. it’s a journey, and i’m still walking it.

[aealect]

the call of comfort

my mama still calls her dad the same way she did when she was younger—like a child seeking refuge in the familiar strength of her father. it’s a habit born of trust, a small but significant thread tying her to a wellspring of comfort.

when i was in the hospital, mama didn’t come inside. it wasn’t out of neglect or carelessness—no, it was fear. hospitals terrify her. instead, mami (her younger sister) ever composed, stayed with me. but mama? she rushed straight from work, waiting outside.

in the early morning, my phone rang. it was my papay, her dad. i was surprised—how could he have known about my situation? and then he told me: mama had called him. in the middle of her worry, unsure of how to handle the waiting and the unknown, she did what she always does. she reached out to her dad.

there’s something profound in that simple act—something beautiful in how the bond between a parent and child never truly fades. mama didn’t know what to do, but she knew who to call. and papay, as he always must have done for her, picked up.

it made me think about the privilege of having someone to call in times of need—someone who will answer without hesitation, no matter the distance, no matter the hour.

[aealect]

the eyes of the lord are everywhere, watching over both the good and the evil.

his vigilance never wavers. thank you, Lord, for the promise that we will witness your miracles once again. thank you for the assurance that the nations will behold the glorious wonders you are known for.

while the enemy may be relentless in his efforts, you, Lord, are sovereign. your power reigns supreme.

thank you for revealing to us the certain fate of our enemy—defeat.

[aealect]

what if they had stayed together—would I have developed a stronger understanding of commitment?

really, tho��what if my parents had stayed together? would i have developed a stronger understanding of commitment? would i have learned from their example of love, or would it have made me more skeptical? sometimes, i wonder if the idea of a perfect family, with both parents present, would have shaped me into a more secure person. would it have made me more trusting, more confident in love?

oh, to live with two present parents. to live life with people to call mom and dad. to be able to call dad and ask him to pick me up from school, during practice, after a date with friends, after a coffee date with myself, or even after just running errands. maybe it would be beautiful. maybe it would be calming. and oh, to laugh at dad jokes.

to tease mom. to go to church together as a family. to feel like a softie girl because you have your dad with you. to get family pictures every year, capturing moments that feel whole. to travel together, both locally and internationally. or maybe, i would have just taken it all for granted. still, i can't help but wonder what it would have been like. what if?

[aealect]

the love you deserve, the love you avoid

why is that? i feel so loved, so full of love, yet when it comes to romantic love, i pull away. why is it that i’m always ready to end something before it even gets a chance to start? i don’t really have a concrete reason for it. it’s true. i’m questioning it. i’m really questioning it. there’s this fear i can’t quite explain, and a drive to avoid it altogether.

oh, i don’t want to fear. i don’t want to live life fearing love. i want to embrace it, to fully open up to it. but the truth is, despite how loved i am, there’s something inside me that holds back. maybe it’s the vulnerability, or the possibility of getting hurt. but even so, i don’t want to keep running from it. i hope i get to have a change of heart.

really. i want to love fully, without fear, without hesitation. please let me love fully. let me experience love without holding back, without the walls that i’ve built around myself.