Singapore — I packed my bags and left the Philippines.
Okay — not forever or for good.
At least twice a year, I venture on a trip with myself to clear my mind of the pressures of work and career, from the responsibilities brought about by marriage and motherhood, from the cacophony of noises of my hometown that makes it harder to decipher truth from lies.
This is not a random trip, for unlike Elizabeth Gilbert, I am a writer who has not received any money advance from any projects … yet. This trip was planned last December. This trip was sanctioned and approved by my husband, who will be left at home to be the children’s primary caregiver while his wife wanders around Southeast Asia to look for inspiration in writing, in project development, in teaching, in romance and in mothering.
The husband knew that his moody wife needs a reboot.
When I became Jeff’s wife, I had a hard time wrapping my brain around the concept of telling another person my most kept desires and wants. This world tells you how your needs should be above your wants — and most of the time, needs are spelled out as food, clothing and shelter. But I have always been a rebel, not always with a cause, but with a personal mission in mind: to take care of myself FIRST.
I have embraced the fact that to take care of myself is not a selfish move. If I take care of myself, I become a better wife, mother, colleague because I practice what I call as my periodic re-centering. This is my practice of going back to my core as I answer questions such as: Who am I? What am I? If you’re not a wife/mother/journalist, who are you?
You may read them as profound, but these are essential questions we need to ask ourselves from time to time to reach out to our inner self and be in tune with our true self.
Being married to Jeff involves a huge dose of social pressure. I am expected to have a car and a mansion simply because my husband is American. I was told, more than a number of times, to tell my husband to buy me jewelry pieces because the wife of a US-born Italian should have lots of them.
There were people who questioned my decision to send my children to a local public school. There were Filipinos who could not understand my decision of coming home and ditching the so-called American Dream of being in possession of a green card that will eventually lead to being a US citizen.
But I am not THAT person.
Solo trips reconnect me to my core.
That I take stock of who I am and reassure myself that my core — the values I hold dearest to my heart — should never change even when the rest of the world forces me to be the kind of person that I am not.
In my solo trips, I usually do not have an itinerary in mind.
I sit in the most random places and watch people pass by.
The lovers to my left are fighting, the mother is dragging her child inside the mall, the father is taking money out of his wallet and is handing it to his teenage son. A girl in black stockings is standing by the mall façade taking selfies.
I let myself take in the beauty of the ordinary scenes of daily life which I usually fail to acknowledge when I’m back home strapped with endless appointments and fieldwork.
There are several thoughts in my mind and some things I want to ask Mayor Tomas Osmeña about the way he’s managing the affairs of Cebu City. I just finished writing a paragraph about Mandaue City Mayor Luigi Quisumbing and what finally pushed him to ban plastic bags in Mandaue last night. I wrote about the K to 12 curriculum and the use of the mother tongue.
Why did Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie break up?
Is love really sweeter the second time around?
Am I going to ride the bus to Malaysia tomorrow? Or should I just board a train and let it take me to Thailand?
The questions I ask myself in this café.
They are not always profound.
They are the mundane ones that I love to ask myself when there are no deadlines to beat, children to feed, lesson plans to write or coverage to attend.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, children and work. But as a woman, I am not just defined by them, my value is not defined by a marriage license or the birth certificates of my children. I have dreams and desires to attain and accomplish. I have the power to make them come true. Some of those dreams can be fulfilled when I reconnect with myself, when I spend time with myself, when I make time to reevaluate my core.
You don’t need to leave the country to do that.
But if you have the means to do so, go ahead.
I’ll meet you at the train station.