A sleepless night

Today, I was in a distraught conversation that I could ever imagine possible. It was all the more heart-wrenching since I was discussing about the aspects of womanhood to a genetically born man, who has the utmost integrity of a highly opinionated feminist from hell. Having said that, I would never had imagined that my embracing  and understand the knowledge of the century in which my parents grew up in, would cause so much of a heated debate.

 "A woman's choicest treasure is her virtue; in sacrificing her chastity, she destroys the jewel of her crown; her purity is her strength and protection."

                                          ~ Frank Lentini

Rather than asking me why I would post such an outdated invaluable information, they berated it as sexist. With such harsh implication and accusation that I would condone such a prejudiced view, I confronted them to explain themselves for accusing me so harshly. 

I didn't mention Lentini's arduous concerns for the benefit of men because I literally don't have the physical equipment to relate the concern, nor do I have any brothers to share such a vital piece of information to my Facebook friends. 

As Lentini himself had put it, his sex education was merely for knowledge in the interest of health and science. If one so chooses to be ignorant, so is their folly for doing so. I have never felt so emotionally impaired from a mere acquaintance before. My reason for sharing Lentini's point of view on my Facebook page, was to point out that I was not left out of the loop of this very knowledge. My parents were perceptive people of Science. 

I was merely being grateful to my parents for sharing a vital information during my youth, since not many parents among their circle were very open to such a taboo subject. 

Yet this man, who wants to identify as a Transgender Woman, was adamant stating their argument that Lentini was sexist for saying a woman should behave herself in regards to her sexuality while men were free to do whatever they wanted. 

What part of the quote did you not understand? I never debated the notion of Lentini's work as sexist mainly because everything he wrote about how a woman should keep herself healthy around her genital area could cause grave complications if it was not properly looked after especially when she's with child. This is common knowledge to all female hygiene. I repeat: COMMON KNOWLEDGE of FEMALE HYGIENE. If your womanhood is as dirty as the sewage of Sitarum River, you will not only be sick from fungal disease, you will spread your malady to the rest of your body or to your partner. Considering the times back then, medicine was not at it's peak just yet. It was very important for a woman to keep her well-being in check. In addition to that, it was also important for a mother to teach her son to respect a woman's dignity.

I, for one, having been raised in a Pentecostal family in a Muslim world, drew two important views as to how I should carry myself, the girl that I was, if I were to ever stray from the protection of my parents' care. Everything I have read from Lentini, made sense to me. Reading Lentini's article made me understand why my parents have hectored me throughout my puberty. It made me understand where my parents were coming from. No matter how hard I tried to explain it to this so-called "feminist," I was emotionally turmoiled and unable to make them understand my upbringing.
 
I did best to render my Femininity in a Contemporary point of view to no avail. They did not even bother researching about the information from the shared Facebook post I had uploaded regarding how I felt as a woman or what my perception was as born a woman. Basically, I felt that they were explaining womanhood to me as if they had been a woman all their life. Firstly, they are of the same age group as I was. Secondly, how would they being born male know what it's like to have monthly cycles to experience the hormonal changes of a woman's psyche and well-being? 

Unfortunately, to this young fellow, it was utter insult to women that they would ascertain that we are subjugated to being voiceless. Dude, seriously - right now: your rant is silencing my voice as a woman. You are a Transgender Woman telling me to stop being a chatty woman about men's opinion about women's health. Lentini was a doctor. As all doctors are trained to do, it is their ability to know the aspect of one's health regardless of gender. 

This Transgender Woman really wanted to take their point of view across my world without ever considering where I was coming from or why I bothered with this stroppy information. Never in my life have I ever felt so inferior being a woman much less of an individual with a confident amount of dignity to a man who identifies himself as equal to my gender. I never intended this as a battle of the sexes. I have never so much cried in my life to defend my identity as a woman or my upbringing for that matter. I was beyond grief. I was mortified on how this Transgender Woman made me feel. To bring injury to a salted wound, they took my post and slandered my name across their circle of friends of how stupid I was for even bringing up Lentini's article on how women should keep themselves clean. You sir, have rendered yourself a bane.

DUDE, women have been cleaning themselves throughout the centuries while men were allowed to keep themselves dirty. Only the Jews and Muslim men keep themselves clean in their nether regions. If it were nor for the Christians, personal hygiene in men were never going to be realized save for the Jews and Muslims.

[Edited in] My virtue as a woman has kept me from being taken advantage of. There. I said it. Sigh. This was why I was upset. It's not very comfortable to share this information especially to an acquaintance circle. I had to compose myself during the conversation because it was painfully obvious they had missed the earlier cue of my intended post.

Be it beyond my culture of a community of elders and peers under one roof, I now understand why this has become a subject to be frowned upon among the youth of today; especially in America, whose basis of individuality is considered their human right. 

American youth need to get a grip of their reality. They are not the center of the world. 

I am by far a feminist let alone ever consider myself as one. Feminism in its altruistic sense is to provide information to the majority that woman are human beings too. We fart, we poop, we have "disgusting" bodily fluids as much as men. 

Just the sheer politics involved would drive an introvert mad. I do have a well-rounded sense of identity, despite my strictly Christian upbringing. I am the reason why my parents buckled down harder on my siblings. By giving me the opportunity to have access to such vital information at the tender age of 10, they had caused themselves such a distressing upheaval. All the questions they didn't want to answer. Their only remedy, was to hand me a volume of encyclopedias just to stop me from asking them any further questions about the human body. They have believed that my curiosity would lead me to the dignified path of a doctor of medicine. I still have the dictionary of medical terms, which was given to me as a gift on my 11th birthday. The joy it was then, just absorbing the glorious information about every single organ, from your tympanum to your metatarsus.

Having seen what it was like living in the Philippines, every detail Lentini laid out in his book, made perfect sense to me. There were no ill-intentions of mine to incite this on any women. It was a matter of bringing out my understanding of why people of those times did things the way they did due to lack of Medical Science discoveries we have today. Not many women in the provincial pockets of the Philippine islands have a privilege to come across with such vital information.

Granted the book is old, but for many women of such poverty could make use of it for a start. Believe me, once you educate a woman in the province, they're gone - on to start their own sense of identity. Elizabeth Gilbert can attest to that, since she witnessed it herself during her years living in Laos. These women of such areas, would take it upon themselves to go out and seek more information and declare independence from their close-knit community. A change no elder can nip at the root.

With this view, which I was trying my best to project to this young fellow seemed fallible. Thus, my written anguish of my dilemma. I accept that I cannot win all battles. I do would like to leave myself a sense of relief that I am not or would I ever hurt anyone by imploring others to accept my viewpoint on the basis that my reality is tried and true. I was just simply sharing my world; not my beliefs. 

Never again would I allow myself to be emotionally drained like this ever again. 

A woman is by her own right entitled to her opinion. Her knowledge is her strength to withstand the fervor of little minds that seek to destroy her. 

As a woman, I welcome those willing to become my advocate. For one, this particular Transgender Woman is not. They are by far the most ruthless, unethical and ill-mannered woman I've ever met in my life. Yes, worse than my own mother.

Published 8/14/12

Edited 8/30/22

I am the Ambassador of my own identity

For once, I would like to have people come to an agreement that individualism is not a universal or social polity of one nation. I am proud of my heritage despite the fact I can only speak with my native tongue at a 5th grade level. English has always been my first and fluent language. Be it as it may that I grew up learning English from the Britons, certain Americans (very few) have found my diction very annoying.

Let me give you a brief history of why I wrote this blog. One would possibly think what I actually do with my time other than scroll through the incoherent news feed from Facebook. As a matter of fact, I do spend my time taking care of my child. That, has always been my number one priority. I also ensure that my house isn't in total chaos. It only takes about 3 hours to clean a very small apartment.

First topic from this morning was regarding a principle who gave a good advice to the young teenagers graduating high school. While scrolling down through the comments, there was a young lady criticizing this man for being an adult who doesn't understand "us" teens and then proceeded to tell him about how her life as a teenager was a bust. I did write a comment directed towards her, "Lady, you don't speak for all teenagers." I'm pretty sure, this opinionated teen was unaware that the principal had ever been a teenager. Sure, I tend to rant to my fellow friends and family about my childhood days. I'm pretty sure they're worn out hearing the same old rant from time to time. It's not like I have a way to physically remove all those memories from my brain.

Second topic from this afternoon, was about people being fat, or too thin, gay or straight, people being too proud to wear their religion on their sleeve or too heathen to care about others. As much as I like to say that people are entitled to their own opinion, I will not allow myself to cater to hateful ridicules. I rarely share such ideals on my wall. Okay, I get the message. Some are intended for amusement, some for encouragement, and some posts made were merely due to plain boredom. Truly, I ignore the sentiments of blatant hateful messages about someone's race, color, weight, gender and/or other prejudicial nomenclature. There were few sentiments I had made where I took a stand to declare their point of view unethical and biased. When I do make comments, I do so by not addressing the general public of what I think "my" people would feel about their sentiment. As a rule of thumb, I do not speak for all people. I speak from experience. Even then, people tend to misconstrue the intention of my comment.

Last topic for this evening, was a blog from a Korean author who reviewed the upcoming movie, 'Cloud Atlas.' I have yet to read the book or watch the movie for that matter, but as an aside, this author, who had been adopted by American parents, has a racial stint about Hollywood's facet with Asians portrayed by Americans. Thank you for pointing that out, Captain Obvious. I certainly wouldn't have known. Hollywood has a style of theatrics they enjoy portraying. Unless you become rich enough to own all of Hollywood, you can be their guest to change their point of view around on how Asians as a whole should be portrayed. We are talking about 55 Asian countries. I did an intensive research on this author just to prove myself wrong from the assumption that he was ever raised by his natural parents. To much of my disappointment, this guy had never lived or set foot in Seoul; let alone raised by his natural parents. His only saving grace in his opinion was, that he married a South Korean born woman. Seriously, you're living vicariously through your wife's experience to make a stint about Hollywood's depiction of Asian people? He should know by now that in this day and age, American people have grown culturally aware of different ethnicities living in their country. Have some fucking gratitude to your American parents. Do you know how many Asians stereotype "Banana Boat" Chinese Americans? That, is as foreign as you can get: a lot of Communist countries expect their descendents to respect their elders. From what I have been reading from the Census (since I did work for them), more Americans are accepting the idea of inter-racial marriages. Hollywood isn't the only Film Industry of the New World.

Yes, I am aware that I am culturally different from other Filipinos. As much as I understand the sentiment this author has portrayed, he does not speak on my behalf or for the rest of Asia in that matter. Believe me, I've met very few pockets of places where Americans get hostile toward someone who isn't a "White" person or born as a "White" American. If he seriously wants to address people by color, he should have at least identified himself as an American of Asian descent. Instead, he identifies himself as a Korean person. You sir, are a fraud. I don't proclaim myself something I am not. I am a Singlay Filipino. I did not grow up in the Philippines. Therefore, I have no leverage on any political opinions of the Philippine government nor the insight of a Filipino culture as a whole. I was raised to be American despite my familial residence in a Foreign Muslim country outside the U.S. Even then, I am oblivious to American culture. There is none to speak of. America is a conglomerate of  Latin America, Refugees, 19th century Pilgrims, British Colony migrants and African Enslaved Captives.

So why bother ranting about another guy ranting about race? Honestly, that wasn't my point. The fact of the matter is, I am an individual. I have my own point of view, my own moral values and responsibilities, including my very own cultural lifestyle. Sure, there are some family traditions I've kept to pay respect to my heritage and ethnicity. I'm still me regardless of my skin color, cultural background, ethnicity or ethical values. 

After a long haul of trying to think up of something to get the excitement off my chest, I just ask myself what is it that I am really passionate about? This may sound egotistic to some people but, honestly who doesn't think a lot about themselves?

I am important to myself as much as I give importance to people I love and respect. I may be an individual, but I play an important part of my life in this world. That is to be: ME. I am defined by the way I treat others and how I relate my opinions to the public. That, is all.

If you want to rant, go ahead and rant. Vent as much as you like. But don't generalize the subject as if the whole community has appointed you (the aforementioned people above this paragraph) to speak on their behalf. Honestly, who died and made you our representative? 🤔

Published 8/8/12

Edited 8/30/22

Deeply wounded

How much of yourself would you sacrifice to be with the one person you love and care about? Would it be every fiber of your being? Would it just be enough to carry you through the relationship?

Love is not just a feeling, but a character all on its own. The complexion of love extends a level of understanding by being considerate of the other person’s feelings, needs and aspirations.

I’m clearly not an expert on this subject. However, I do know society has made us believe that the taboo of intimate relationships as a whole is superficial. There are certain people I know of whom, in fact enjoy playing games in relationships. People with a mindset such as these, tend to make me cautious, paranoid and aloof. Admittedly, I could have waved my hand and tell myself that I have moved on. It’s a lot easier said than done.

Forgiveness is not something I hand out freely. It takes a lot of courage to forgive someone who caused me so much pain and suffering. Gloating over their misfortune doesn’t seem to gratify the solution of my liberty.

The last thing I want in my life is to ruin a wonderful relationship with my best friend, who has been my husband since I left my child's father. My best friends from high school are probably right; I am thinking way too much about this.

The simple thing to do is to just forget about it. That’s my problem. I can’t seem to forget things. I remember everything like it happened yesterday. Whenever I am reminded of the things I should forget, the past memories recite itself in my head and in my dreams. Being the impetuous person that I am, it takes me a while to drop the subject. Poetry and writing have become my only outlet. Singing the same old song can get old for some people.  

If there was one wish I could ask for, it would be this: erase my memory. I would rather re-learn the good things about my life than remembering why I want somebody to just understand me for who I am.

The reality of it all – I am the only person who can understand me. I am the only person who is able to make me happy.

Published on 7/25/12

Edited on 08/30/22

The resonating truth

I've only been on the planet for 4 decades and some odd years now. I find it fascinating that many people from every walk of life has various perception about life on earth.

I have come to adapt other philosophical views about the world in regards to my life. The life according to me. Since I was young enough to grasp the concept of life, I have come to accept the notion that there are things bigger than me, which I have no control over. If I could, I wouldn't be here typing all of this.

As any sensible person would care to notice why I even bother writing this down, it's simple: for the younger generations to come. My generation has been so consumed with their own gains and triumphs, they had forgotten those who needed the same knowledge to get there: their very own children. They have left their children to their own devices - to video games, cable television and lifestyle magazines. The frustrating thing about it is, they blame it on the media, the government and the communities.

The balance of life begins when darkness greets the light, and peace beholds love and hatred. What truly constitutes a good person? How does one determine such a character? Almost every superhero I read about in Marvel (R) and DC (R) has character flaws. No, I will not curtail every single flaw of each one of them. Just name me one superhero, who has never lifted a single violent, selfish, sadistic, cruel, abusive, prejudice and/or inconsiderate act against another human being?

The point of the matter is, no body is perfect. Yet, why are we striving for it? Is it because we have come to believe that there are missing parts of us? What are we actually missing? Who should we be asking? How do we find the thing we are missing? What is missing in our life? So many unanswered questions! Who's going to know?

I told myself, "Get off your butt and start searching for the answer." This is not to sound auspicious in a grimly sort of way. It's amazing how humans invent something so innovative - not to feel accomplished or anything spectacular thus far, but to make life simpler, easier and effortless. It's an amazing enigma. Humans spend so much time, effort and resources just so they can do so much less. It's a wonder why the rest of the world is so fat and the other side is suffering from poverty and starvation. The children suffer the most. By the time they get older, the whole cycle starts again.

There are plenty of resources to go around. Yet here we are, teaching our children to horde every last bit of resources so that they can have a future of their own. The instant gratification of Amazon delivering your item at your doorstep after a click of your mouse button, has rendered many impatient, sordid and contemptuous ingrates. Sharing is one thing - if and when another person contributes to the honey pot as well, is another gesture entirely. I will point this out again: how does one determine a person is good?

I do not enjoy swaying to my moods and emotions, but it is who I am. I am an emotional person by nature. I'm older and wiser enough to know the difference between on who's playing and toying with me and who's being sincere in their own right. 

There are many great philanthropic causes for the betterment of mankind. I can name several organizations, which can live up to their morals and values. I support them wholeheartedly. However, my suspicions rise when I get automated printed letters every single week about how I should continue to do so as a member of their prestigious club. I start to wonder where my money actually went to. Were the children fed? Did the children get better from their illnesses? Are the children's lives better than they were before? Did you give the widow the support they need? Did the homeless get the help they wanted? How about the destitute, were their necessities met? I should not have to be addressed with legal formality that my donations will be returned to me during my tax refund. I do not need to know that. All it does is, prompt me to be unwilling to donate to the cause. When I donate, I gave it fully, willingly and freely with all the kindness and sincerity of my heart. It is a gift from me to you. I do not even have to mention this or to prove to anyone otherwise.

My ironic life as I know it, was painted so gruesomely. So much so, that I feared it; hated it even. Look, I was only 7 years old. In light of all the fuss of experiencing a cruel world, I saw none of what my mother forewarned. Gee, thanks mom for all the unnecessary trauma you inflicted upon me. I suffered so much from my childhood, but accomplished so much more as an adult. 

As for my child, I painted the real world for them. They saw the world as it is. It was a big world full of amazing and mysterious things. They saw so much beauty despite the misshapen aspects of war, famine, plagues, natural disasters and desolation. I warned them to be cautious and to be mindful of how they may affect the world. They are a simpleton at heart. Their wits are as gritty as a pirate on a barrel of loot. Yet, here they stand beside me, still yearning and longing for something more.

What is it that they yearn for? They have yet to answer that question. Whatever I treasure in my life, is nothing but a dull clay on a window sill to their eyes. I have met several people, who have walked through their life with indolence and indifference. Much like this person, I met at one point in my life. I do not know what has become of them. I do hope my child doesn't end up like them either.

Please know and understand that I do love my mother dearly. I long for her to accept me for who I am. She lived a vicarious life of a pious woman. In reality as industrious as she was for a woman of her times, she always struggled financially. She seems to always strive for perfection, even though she makes a lot of mistakes. You would think I would learn a lot of admirable traits from her. I only learned how to disparage others, who do not see things the way I do. 

I am fortunate that I was surrounded by influential friends, who saw through my pain. They taught me how to be more empathetic towards other's needs. There were teachers at school who told my mother that I could do better in completing homework. I learned to take my own time in completing my task. Depending on how effective and efficient as one would call it, I was always expected that it was done right. Bravo for me, right? Not for my mother. It has to always be perfect the first time. If that were the case, how come it took Edison many trying times before he could get the tungsten in the bulb to finally light up? Her answer was, "At least he was trying; you aren't." How can one try if they have not failed the first time?

I was struggling with a math problem. She would hit me with the edge of her ruler. Regardless of where it landed, the strike was always harder than the last one. When she saw how hopeless I was, she struck me on my skull. She gasp at the top of her lungs, "You see what you did?!" Her ruler was bent. 

"This proves how stubborn and hard headed you are!"

She blamed me for ruining her favorite ruler. She swore that she would always show it to me whenever I was disobedient to her commands. Even though I no longer am under her custody, she still has the bent metal ruler in her possession.

Whether or not that blunt forced trauma to my head caused any complications, I do know that I was no longer able to hear on my left side. As my audiologist observed, "Your left cochlea was already damaged prior to the incident that happened at college." She asked me if I had been listening to loud music or had any blunt force trauma or been in an accident that may have happened prior to the college incident. She explained that the damage was much older than 20 years of wear and tear. I told my audiologist that they could be so many possibilities. I told her that I was susceptible to ear infections. There was a Technical Trainer, who wanted to file insubordination when I gave her a doctor's note that I need to be medicated to clear off my ear infection. I sat through the pain and took the medicine when I retired to bed. The audiologist was sympathetic and apologized that I was treated in that manner. She said that the instructor should have allowed me to complete my dosage as instructed by the doctor.

It's too late now. I really cannot hear on my left. If you speak to me from my left side, don't expect a response.

Another occasion of how my mother treated me was when she wanted me to do her homework. Firstly, I would like to point out that my mother told me to never lie to her, but a few moments later, she told her Science professor that she did her homework. She even praised herself for doing her assignment on her own. The fact was, she had given me her assignment to work on. She had the audacity to be upset at me for writing like a high school student, which in fact I was at that time. So there's the irony. 

My father was a gifted and talented man. He sought after his dream and lived it. He spent his life living without a care in the world. He was happy being alone by himself in his artwork. So much so, he'd forgotten quality time with the family. His role as a father did not come into fruition until I was already on my way to college. The only life lesson he gave me was, "Experience is where you become wiser." If that were so, he'd been a more responsible father to the family. My mother had to work 3 to 7 jobs to support all 8 of us; 2 were live-in housekeepers.

Carla Fine states in her book, "Strong, Smart & Bold" that a girl needs many adult figures in her life on whom she can rely for encouragement and guidance, as well as for listening, loving and bearing witness to her personal growth and achievement. Could I have veered myself in the wrong direction as a mother?

I did the best I could to tell the truth and the best answer whenever my child had doubts. They have a rather complex perception about the real world. So much so, they'd rather be in their own world. They believe the world should revolve around their expectations of reality. How they came to that conclusion, was beyond me. I did not raise them to think that way.

They were raised to be independent, autonomous, resourceful and self-sufficient. Sadly, peer pressure took over their upbringing and have become indifferent and indolent towards the world around them.

On the bright side of things, they definitely are a much well-rounded person than I am. When I was younger, I was always told to keep to myself. My rambunctious tendency has a way to annoy even the most civil of adults. For the entirety of my adolescent years, I did not muster a voice or move an inch unless I was spoken to or was invited to congregate with others. 

Have I been more of a friend than a parent to her? Mind you, I do not cater to the kind of behavior towards my child the same way my mother had done to me. I always tried my best to reason with them whenever we had conflicting points of view. 

It seems no one has yet contested to my parenting methods aside from my own mother. Girls, Inc. have pointed out that gender-based discrimination has played a number of roles in society. Girls to be one way, and boys as another way. 

It's obvious my child is facing the same dilemma I did when I was growing up. Try as I may to understand their life experience, I am unable to relate since they identify as Trans Man; whereas I am considered a bisexual cis woman. The experience of the prejudice received is prevalent.

I was not entirely a tom-boy. I do enjoy wearing dresses, as long as the hem of the tresses cover every inch of my legs. I don't mind wearing skirts draped below my knee, as long as I have shorts hugging underneath them. 

Unfortunately, the dresses I enjoy are no longer in style, unless you're a Steampunk Goth or from the Victorian era. The dresses and fashion sense has gotten so distasteful, I find myself in the men's aisle more often than the women's aisle. I'm apparently a size "Chico" at the WalMart Men's Department.

The thing that aggravates me the most is, that I have to be aware of which women's department I'm at. My child's fashion sense has grown simplistic with minimal bright colors, but they do enjoy colorful accessories more than I do. Most of my wardrobe has been defined to shades of blue, black and gray including, Summer and Fall themes.

I have already told my child that there was nothing wrong with being themselves. Being able to express oneself is a very normal human thing to do. In addition, there was nothing insignificant about being a wholesome person. 

All the nonsensical stories they heard from other girls are highly opinionated in their own right. Peer pressure is nothing more than a vicious weed. No matter how much you weed it out, it still springs back gnawing at you like a mosquito.

The Grunge fashion style in the 90s was a hit when I was still single. I was hoping to be left alone donning those baggy jeans and unkempt flannel shirts. Unfortunately, I still attracted a lot of guys, who gagged at me without a clue. 

When I started dressing up like a preppy, I attracted the most unfortunate bunch of shallow men. I'm seriously not kidding. It didn't matter how well or badly I dressed. Apparently, a few guys admitted that I still looked good in baggy clothes. That meant a lot since my mother has drilled it in my head, that I was not a very attractive woman. She coerced me to stuff my bras with socks. I defiantly refused. I didn't want my body to smell like feet; clean sock or not. She made me wear braces. She claimed I had ugly protruding teeth. Now, I suffer a partial lisp and an uneven jaw. My profile has an overbite whenever I smile.

I did not lay out any specific expectation for my child other than to be true to themselves; make sure they take good care of themselves, and to always be safe. It's simple, really. I did tell them to choose their friends wisely. Yet again, we come to this point: how does one determine that a person is good?

Here's one thing I know for sure. As a human, whatever preconceived notion we may have based on how we were raised, how we perceive our moral values, and how we treat others on the basis of what is right and fair, wherefore no other person is deprived of their own autonomy as an individual; granted they exercise the same virtues, we can all live in peace and harmony amongst ourselves.

So, in all sense and sensibility, humans are not perfect. It is not a flaw. Whenever we indulge on things that hurt others and ourselves, it is then we have allowed society (in the long run) from all walks of life to discriminate, hate, reject, violate, abuse, control and eradicate anyone who do not look, talk and think like us.

Published 3/23/12

Edited 09/1/22

A little twist of faith

It seems religion has been a main topic among my friends yesterday. I was thinking about what they had said and thought it through. Before you speak, think and ask yourself, "Should this concern me or not?" If it does, please feel free to move on to something else less "stressful". If not, you're welcome to continue reading.

I may have been raised to believe in God, a divine omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent Supreme Being to whom we owe our reverence to. However, I will never intend to indoctrinate you or insist that you believe the same doctrine I do. In addition to this belief, I was coerced to acknowledge that Jesus the Christ, is my Lord, my savior and my god. With this confirmation of belief, I was informed that I would be blessed by God's Holy Spirit, who will guide me through my trials and tribulations until the second coming of the Christ.

Here's where I draw the line. When a believer of Jesus' teaching acts outside of God's grace, their faith will undergo scrutiny based on their behavior and the way they treat others.

I was only 10 when I overheard the pastor exclaimed to his wife, "We have enough money to buy the expensive rice cooker we wanted," while counting the donation money in the privacy of his office. The reason I was there because I had a question I wanted to ask the pastor's wife. After learning this indignant act of stealing from the Church, I decided to take my $5 back. I was obligated to tithe my New Year gift in the coercion made by my mother during the sermon service, so I could receive God's blessing. In my 10-year-old mind, I was bewildered by how God could  bless me since my money was going to be stolen by the pastor, instead of my money going to God. Look, let's be realistic here. If you tell your child that their gift money is going to God, and your child trusts your word, it better be true.

The adults didn't see it that way. I was accused of stealing the $5 I gave away in good faith it was going to God. That's strike 1, for the church.

As I got older, my parents kept going to different churches wherever we moved. We moved a lot. Whatever my parents were dealing with the church members, it was obvious to my 12-year-old mind that the pastors conducting these services were doing ungodly things. I overheard my mother involving herself in the gossip that a pastor had molested a lot of children at Sunday School. Whether it was true or not, I did not want to find out.

My mother had the discernment to prevent church leaders from harming us, her children, but the moment when it came to my sisters' and my safety at home, among her friend's son, her precaution goes out the window? Go figure. 

I know most of you might wonder where I will be going with this. This is much as I know: God is Love, God is Peace, God is Just and God is our Strength.

Before I go on any further, I would like to add that I wasn’t aware of the importance of knowing God during my weaning years. All I remember was my mother telling me that if I wanted to be in her good graces, I needed to believe that Jesus was my savior. It would also mean that I would be accepted as a good child instead of a disobedient child.

I trusted my mother with every ounce of my soul. As time went by from my adolescent and teenage years, those words eroded through my soul like nitric acid on copper plating.

In 1995, I truly understood what it was to be a true Christian. No matter how often I reminded my mother of my renewed faith, I was still deemed unworthy. Unfit to represent my family's legacy. For whatever that meant, I stopped believing the words that came out from my mother's mouth. They were poison to my ears. They still are to this day. 

She would use God's laws against me. The advantage I have over her was, I knew God's words in my heart. Even if she quoted Bible verses to me, her interpretation of the message never rang true. Why else would God go through so much effort to find people (Elijah, Jeremiah, Isaiah) to convince me otherwise?

I am still a work in progress. Considering the road I came from, I’ve actually gone further than I would have expected. The spiritual journey I started in 1995 was not only challenging, it was exhausting. I was weary all the time. After various and numerous counsel from all walks of life, regardless of the faith of others, I have learned so much. The only one I am accountable to is God; and God alone.

I’ve been studying the Bible since I was seven. Whether my mother intended to accustom me to her way of thinking, she failed to recognize God's power over the Bible verses she had me memorize every minute of my day. I’m still learning new things from God to this day. Imagine that!

As much as I would like to believe that there are Christians out there like me. It’s not everyday you get greeted warmly by Christians since you either have Christians tell you:

1. God wishes you to hell 
2. You need to stop sinning and repent
3. You need to die

Truly? I don't think that was Jesus intention when he said, "Go make disciples." Imagine going to school and be greeted by a teacher in that manner. Disciple means to be instructed by teacher or a student of a teacher or to be a follower of a philosopher. Let’s be honest with ourselves. Is this truly what Christians nowadays interpret:

“Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” (Mark 16:15)

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven (Matthew 5:16)

All I’m asking is, “Why is it necessary to be vindictive of others who do not believe in the way you do?” There are plenty of people out there who believe in God. The relationship in one's spiritual journey is between God and the individual.

We all struggle within ourselves to fight for what is true and right. I would like to hope that what Christians have done here on earth, would also greet us in the same manner into our next life with God.

As a matter of fact, I’m not vocal in regards to this subject because most of the time, it’s not warranted. Here's an example. When we arrived in the United States, our mother's brother, drove us to the Shipping Depot to pickup our belongings. In the midst of waiting, my mother told me to discuss my newfound "conversion" to Jesus. As I was going through my testimony, my mother kept interjecting her interpretation of my life experience. I was so distraught and upset, my uncle told me to stop. He firmly proclaimed to his sister, "Whatever you're doing here, it's not going to work. I'm a Christian as much as you are. I was born a Catholic. I will die a Catholic." I cried even more. I wanted to share my testimony just as I have experienced it; not the way my mother insisted how my life story should be. If I was given a chance with my uncle again, I would do so without my mother present. 

Does that make me hypocritical about the verse I had mentioned above? No. I live by example – just as Jesus had done so during his ministry.

There are a lot of pain and suffering in the world. I don’t need to feel justified to add more to the problem. With all things considered, from the time I was baptized as a born-again Christian, I never looked back. I was truly committed to my vow with God and I told myself I made a wrong choice for wanting to end my life. My faith is as sound as any other religion in existence.

I leave you with this message I still hold true to my heart:

 

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you”, saith the LORD, “thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” (Jeremiah 29:11; King James Version)

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified. What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:28-31)

If you come to me with a problem, I will do my best to help you with what I have. I am not my mother. I will not coerce you in any shape or fashion that you need to believe in Jesus as a prerequisite for obtaining my help. I don't need to prove to you that I am a trustworthy person. You just know by the stories people say about me.

My faith is action-based. The only time I have sworn under oath in the eyes of God and men, was when I took that step to become a born-again Christian on April 16, 1995.

Written 1/31/12
Edited 6/17/15

Revised 8/31/22

The Manulak Project

I started knitting a couple months ago. After reading through the Knitting Pocket Guide, I had my first successful project done. While knitting through the other pair of gloves, it struck me; an idea that would just simply label my project, expressing "This is made by me". A little pride and joy for the effort I made to make something beautiful - for myself.

This idea merely stating that my inspired creation is not only to recognize the people who inspired me, but to thank them for sharing their wonderful pieces of art. It is also to show them that I truly like their art. In some ways, I just want to share how wonderful these people are.

I've created a logo that would signify who I am and what I do. Other than that, it's just an idea waiting to happen.

Why America is not safe the way it used to be

Rick Santorum's Speech

I'll tell you why America is not safe anymore, Mr Rick Santorum. As a child, I watched from my parents' television how brutal the government has treated its veterans after the Vietnam war. The generation that were left behind to live as refugees faced scrutiny and prejudice. They had to work hard for a living. I grew up learning that my people, the Filipinos, were faced the same scrutiny and prejudice during the Japanese occupation across the South-East Asian countries. Did your ancestors truly believe they saved my people?

It only takes one person to change the face of history. By this evidence alone, you would think the American people would learn from their mistakes. The Ancient world looks down upon you, America. 

The reason why everything is the way it is now, was not because of China's top-of-the line cheap labor for capitalism, or Japan's innovative technology or the Middle Eastern world's production of crude oil to boost the economy. It is America's demand for the ideal lifestyle: "The American Dream".

The Ancient world as we know it, is only trying to meet those demands of the so-called "New World." So, it should not be a surprise that they too, can live up to the same ideal philosophy. They are learning more everyday that their world is getting afflicted each time they do so. Their younger generation has had enough. They're fighting back.

You believe this is a war against the flesh? (as you Christians would like to phrase it) I tell you now, it's not. It's war against what is corrupt, immoral and most of all, greed. America has become greedy. Keep taking more of the resources you plan to waste, the more likely you are to get what you deserve the most: A good spanking.

Do not drivel the Ancient world about your religious piety. God did not intend us to squabble over land and resources. It is not anyone's fault, but yours. It is your own selfish desire to get what you want: - to be comfortable with the riches you know you have but want more of what you want from your neighbor's side of the fence.

I may be an American citizen by naturalization, but I understand where I am from. I am born and descendent of the Ancient world. My ancestors suffered so you can live they way you are now. I don't need to suffer the same fate my ancestors did. If you so highly praise your grandfathers and forefathers, do you believe they are proud of what you're doing?

Get to the real issue of what is making America a declining democracy and make a difference by accepting the fact of the matter at hand. If you could do that, then, I will follow. If not, I will continue as I have before - surviving; just as my ancestors did before me.

Published 1/6/12

Edited 8/30/22