I breathe in and close my eyes, murmuring words of assurance—
this will pass.
I breathe out, gasping for strength through my silence.
I see fear, yet choose to remain unmoved.
I close my eyes again, bow my head,
and whisper a prayer: this too shall pass… it will be okay.
I breathe in,
and breathe out.
“Striving valiantly in the arena, facing challenges, and daring to try, even if one fails.” – Theodore Roosevelt
Victory is not always about triumph; sometimes, it is simply the courage to keep going, to face our own imperfections with love and acceptance. At times, life takes unexpected turns that carry us higher than we ever imagined.
Santorini. The pandemic had just begun to ease, borders carefully reopening, and after two long years of isolation, it was my first journey back into the world. The island was almost empty, its silence amplifying its beauty.
One afternoon, Jen, Ralla, and I decided to walk from Akrotiri to Emporio, a trail of about 7 kilometers. By the time we arrived, our feet were heavy, and our bodies tired. Jen sat down to rest and asked us to capture photos she could post later.
As Ralla prepared the camera, my eyes caught a beautiful church nearby. Its roof looked climbable, and I thought to myself—this could be the perfect place for a once-in-a-lifetime shot, with the caldera standing boldly behind me.
Without a second thought, I leapt, climbed, and stood tall on that rooftop. “Take the shot now!” I called out. The result was stunning: a woman standing with confidence against the wide-open sky. But what the picture didn’t show was what I felt inside—the rush of fear as the wind brushed past me, the trembling thought that I might fall. And yet, beneath that fear, a quiet voice whispered: Hold still. You got this.
And I did.
Reflection
Life often places us on rooftops we never expected to climb. From the outside, others may see only strength, beauty, and confidence. But inside, we may be battling fear, doubt, or the wind that threatens to unsteady us. Courage is not the absence of fear—it is the choice to stay, to trust, to hold still in the moment and whisper to ourselves, You got this.
In the end, the most powerful victories are not in how the world sees us, but in how we rise above our inner storms and dare to stand tall—imperfect, yet unshaken.
Have you ever found yourself in the darkest place of your life—unsure if you could make it through?
We all face moments like these. And though they break us open, somehow, each time, we survive. Each trial reshapes us in ways we never expected, molding us into something stronger, softer, and more resilient.
Seventeen years ago, I faced one of those moments. My brother was rushed to the hospital with a severe stomach ache. What seemed at first like something treatable quickly turned into a fight for his life. In the span of a week, we had to process everything—the disbelief, the fear, the fragile thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would pull through.
I remember crying as though a part of me had been torn away. And yet, I kept on hoping. I didn’t search for explanations, I didn’t ask why. All I wanted was for him to wake up, to stay with us.
But reality settled in the moment I spoke with the doctor. My brother was already clinically gone, his heart still beating only because of the machines keeping him alive. I could not hold his hand in that moment—but I spoke to him in my heart, sending him every word of love I wished he could still hear.
And in that moment, I realized something profound: death, too, can be kind.
We often think of death as cruel and painful, but sometimes it comes gently, when it is time to let go. It is a surrender filled with love—a passage where even in leaving, our loved ones give us signs, whispers of comfort, reminders that love remains.
Reflection
Life is full of unseen kindness, woven into both joy and sorrow. Love endures even in loss. And hope—the fragile, stubborn hope we cling to—gives us the courage to walk through the darkest valleys of our lives.
In the end, resiliency is not about avoiding pain. It is about learning to carry it with grace, to find light in the shadows, and to keep walking forward with love, courage, and hope.
Wings to fly,
To soar up high,
To feel the joy of open sky.
Wings to see what lies unseen,
Above the clouds, beyond the green.
Wings to lift, to dream, to try—
To give us hope,
And help us fly.
Yesterday made me realize just how much your friendship means to me.
With you, I can truly be myself, yet I’m afraid of being swept away. I want to face things on my own, but knowing you’re always there behind me gives me strength.
BFF, if I could have only one friend in this world, I’d wish for it to be you.
Thank you, always.
A new day has broken—
A light of hope, a ray of confidence.
The sun rises at the edge of the horizon,
Spreading warmth to those who feel the cold.
A new day has begun,
A chance to create memories
And cherish moments of victory.
Rise up, shine—everything will be okay.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I am tired.
I need to breathe.
I need to gasp for air.
I am devastated—
Shattered dreams, false hope.
I need to gasp for air.
I am trapped.
I need to break this cycle.
I take a deep breath; I will face the sunrise,
A ray of hope,
A ray of strength.
Step by step, I shall rise.
Step by step, I shall rejuvenate.
I breathe slowly…
I will learn to hope again.
The Hero
In every story, there is a hero. She is the center of the tale, seemingly invincible, as if nothing could ever hurt her. But behind that brave facade lies a person who is deeply tired, silently gasping for breath. Her heart has been shattered into pieces countless times. Yet, just like in the movies, she always rises, fights, and pushes on until she claims victory. She takes care of everyone but herself.
Cub in us
My dear hero, it is okay to be shattered at times, to take off the mask of bravery, and to be courageously vulnerable.
It is okay to be tired, to ask for help, and to accept a lending hand.
Sometimes, my dear hero, it is perfectly fine to let someone else take care of you.
Allow the cub within us to reign every once in a while, within this lion heart of ours.
❤️
Every November, Claire reigns as the queen of our annual getaway. This year, she’s once again celebrated in her style, as we take a five-day road trip through the heart of Andalusia, Spain. Organized by me but entirely led by her whims, this journey is a tribute to her birthday and our shared love of travel.
For the second year in a row, Málaga is our base—a sunlit city full of energy, nestled along the southern coast.
Here, our days are filled with long walks, rooftop cocktails, bustling mercados, and endless tapas. One of our favorite spots is El Pimpi, the famous restobar partly owned by Antonio Banderas. It’s the closest we get to a brush with fame, and it’s now a cherished tradition in our travels.
Last year, we’d planned a side trip to Granada but didn’t quite make it. This time, however, we fulfilled our promise and ventured into Granada’s charming streets and storied hills.
Granada: A Two-Day Journey Through Time and Culture
Granada’s tranquil beauty and rich Moorish heritage made our two-day trip feel like a step back in time. We started at the Mercado de San Agustín, a bustling market that reminded us of Cebu’s shotokil tradition. We bought fresh seafood to be cooked on-site, and it turned out to be a delicious, affordable feast.
The next day, we set out for the Albaicín de Granada (historically known as Rabad al-Bayyīzīn or the Falconers’ Quarter). This historic neighborhood, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is Granada’s oldest and most emblematic district. It’s where Iberians, Romans, Muslims, and Christians left traces of their cultures.
We began our day at the Mirador de San Nicolás, where we were treated to a stunning view of the Alhambra, Granada’s iconic Moorish palace and fortress. The breathtaking scenery was the perfect start to our day.
Nearby, we stopped for tea and baklava at the Mosque of Granada and experienced the peaceful ambiance as men prayed and chanted from the Quran.
Afterward, we continued up to the Cuevas del Sacromonte, or “Gypsies’ Caves,” said to be the birthplace of Flamenco. The energy in this area is contagious, with echoes of dance and music deeply embedded in its hills and caves.
Our day concluded with a stroll along Calle Elvira, which marks the border between the Albaicín and Granada’s city center. This vibrant, colorful street, with its narrow cobblestones and bustling vibe, felt like stepping into a Moroccan souk, rich with scents, sounds, and flavors that stay with you long after you leave.
Back to Málaga
Tomorrow, we’ll return to Málaga to close out our annual November escape. Until next year! As we always say, “It’s not about the years we live; it’s about the life we choose to celebrate every year.”
Here’s to many more birthdays, adventures, and memories together.
Yes, I’ve arrived at that phase of life. My knees? Oh, they’ve made a dramatic exit, thanks to arthritis. The cartilage in both knees is gone, which means my favorite activities have vanished too—goodbye, running and yoga! And let me tell you, that goodbye hurt more than my joints.
Meanwhile, my hormones are acting like a fireworks display, constantly going off without warning. This means I can go from weeping over a commercial to snapping at someone for breathing wrong—all in the same hour. And let’s not even get started on the sugar cravings, courtesy of glucose levels playing hopscotch every day. My belly fat? It’s taken on a life of its own, and I swear it’s plotting something.
Here comes the vicious cycle: “I can’t exercise because my joints hurt, which means I gain weight, which makes my joints hurt even more.” Exhausting, right? Well, one day I decided: Enough. There has to be more to menopause than this chaos. I wanted the 51-year-old version of me to be healthier, stronger, and maybe even a little fiercer.
So, what did I do? I became a cougar 浪. Enter: the most handsome coach in the world. Picture this: piercing blue eyes, full of concern (or maybe just mild amusement). Our first conversation went something like this:
Coach (gazing at me, probably wondering if I’m serious): “What do you want to happen with your body?”
Me: “Uhm, well, I don’t want to be Barbie… but I’d love to be fit, wrangle this midline before it gives me a cardiac arrest, and be able to jog at 70.”
Now, my coach doesn’t mess around. He pushes me to break my limits but always respects my limitations. He doesn’t care that I’m 51. “The body follows where the mind leads,” he says, which sounds so inspiring until you’re gasping for air after 20 squats.
So here I am, a month in, lifting weights—30 kg, 6 sets of 3 reps, deadlifts, and squats. My knees are getting stronger, and I can almost hear them whispering, “Thank you.” My coach, still the ruthless gentleman, has slowly reintroduced the treadmill into my life, though I keep begging him to let me run on real terrain. His answer: “Soon. Not yet. Patience.”
Menopause and aging may throw curveballs, but they don’t have to steal the things we love. Two months from now, I’ll be back to my morning yoga or jogging short distances—mark my words.
This is healing. I love me, and that means I’m going to take care of me.
jee426 