What I Would Say To My Younger Self

~ Birthday Letter ~

You’re not too much.
And no, you’re not too quiet either.
You are not a contradiction. You are not confusing. You are a mosaic.

You’ll learn to stop shrinking yourself just to make other people comfortable. I know you think that being polite means being small...but trust me, you don’t owe the world your silence. Not then. Not now.

You might think no one likes you. That you're always just a little out of place. But you’ll meet wonderful people along the way...ones who will see the real you. And they’ll embrace you, not despite your depth, but because of it.

And that little corner of the world you’re standing in now?
Sta. Juliana...that tiny, tucked-away village where everything feels too small for your thoughts?
You’ll spread your wings.
You’ll leave.
You’ll fly across oceans.
You’ll see half the world and you’ll keep going.
You won’t just visit places. You’ll live in them. Walk their streets. Learn their rhythm. And each time, you’ll find a new piece of yourself there, waiting.

And while you wait...be patient. Trust the process. Grow.
Enjoy. Watch. Listen. Learn.
Because every version of you needs time to unfold.

You’ll make many mistakes.
You’ll hurt... and you will be hurt.
You’ll cry so hard, sometimes it will feel like it might break you.
There will be failures. Rejections, too. Sometimes back to back.
But that’s okay. It’s all part of growing. Of becoming.
You’ll learn.
It will make you tougher.
Stay firm. Stay strong.
Go on.

And then...
Life will bring you to your knees.
Not once, but more than once.
There will be a moment that shatters your sense of control,
That breaks your heart in ways you didn’t think possible.
It’ll feel surreal…like something that only happens in movies.
But you’ll get through it. Quietly. Bravely.

And when you do, you’ll find your way back home.
Mum will be there.
She will not forsake you.
She’s just there. Steady. A quiet kind of strong.
That will be enough.

You’ll remember how she held it all together before...
How years ago, she carried the weight of losing your dad..
And though everyone called her strong and independent,
You knew there were quiet tears no one else saw.
You saw them.
And that stayed with you.

She will toughen you again...
And you’ll learn to fly again.
So you’ll leave—this time not in escape, but in strength.

And when you return to where it all began, it won’t be to prove anything.
You’ll come back not to show off, but to give back.
To honour the place that raised you.
To show gratitude for the soil that kept you grounded, even when your dreams were too big for its borders.
Sta. Juliana will always humble you, which will make you soft in all the right places.

Here’s something no one told you:
You don’t have to prove you’re worthy by working twice as hard.
You already are.

But you will work twice as hard anyway. And you’ll carry that weight with grace.
You’ll juggle university, your family's business, the night shift, expectations, guilt, ambition, pressure, and dreams that are almost too big to say out loud.
And still, you’ll make space to laugh. To notice the view. To care for people. To stand next to someone powerful and not disappear.

You will be loved.
You’ll lose love.
And then, somehow, you’ll find a truer one.
The kind that sees you in stillness and stays.
Someone who chooses you... openly, even in chaos.
Who fights for you through heaven and hell, not just when it’s easy... but especially when it’s not.

Some things you’ll outgrow.
Like needing everyone to understand you.
Like thinking success looks the same for everyone.
Like believing love must look like a movie. (It doesn’t. It’s quieter. Better.)

Other things you’ll hold on to forever:
Your softness.
Your fire.
Your ability to sit at a table full of people and still hear your voice.

Embrace yourself. Fully. Even when it feels messy.
You’ll give.
You’ll get betrayed.
But that’s okay.
You'll keep giving..
You’ll keep learning.
You’ll keep growing.
You’ll survive all of it and turn it into wisdom so quiet and strong, it lives in your bones.

And through it all, I’ll be here.
I will wait for you, like the big sister you never had.
I’ll be your safe place.

I wish I could tell you that everything works out neatly. It doesn’t.
But it does unfold in the exact way it needs to.
You’re a natural-born fighter.
Remember, you are your father’s daughter. It’s in your blood.
Strength runs deep even when you don’t realise you’re carrying it.

And the woman you become?
She’s still learning. Still longing. Still loved more deeply than she ever thought possible.
But she’s no longer afraid of being seen.

So if you’re wondering if you’ll make it....
You will.
Not because of luck, or timing, or connections.
Because you never stopped showing up.

And you don’t have to be the loudest in the room.
You just have to be the one who keeps going.

Happy birthday Cey.
And thank you to every version of you that carried me here.ღ