The Tragedy of the Step sisters

When the clock struck midnight, Cinderella’s dress turned back into a maid’s uniform, her carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and the horses into rats. But for some reason, her shoes remained intact — even though one of them had fallen off her foot.

What bothers me is that when the prince tried to find the owner of the glass shoe, no one in the entire town fit it perfectly. It’s as if Cinderella had a one-of-a-kind foot size that matched no one else. What’s even more disturbing is that her stepsisters nipped their toes just to fit into the shoe — because, well, true love and Prince Charming might really be worth the pain.

In the real world, there are real Cinderellas — those favored by the universe, with love crawling to them on its knees, those whose luck in love is unparalleled.
And then there’s my kind: the modern-day stepsister, willing to nip her toes, to bleed, willing to remove parts of herself just to fit a shoe that was never meant for her.

Because for her, true love requires a certain level of sacrifice — one that she believes will be worth it in the end, because she has learned that love must come with pain to be felt deeply, to be real.
She is willing to do anything, just once, to be chosen — not knowing yet that the real kind of love, the love she deserves, comes with peace. A peace so tangible it can be felt in every inch of her body.
A love that transcends social norms and expectations — a love so free she does not have to beg for it, a love so calm she can see her real self reflected in its waters.

I want that kind of love — a love that comes naturally, a love that doesn’t demand I change myself just to be worthy of it. I want to be desired, to be someone's dream, to be someone's inspiration, I want to be someone's breath, someone's reason to wake up in the morning and I want to be yearned for excruciatingly.

 But I am a modern-day stepsister, and in my reality, I am not afforded that luxury.
Still, in my heart, a tiny hope remains — that the love I deserve will find its way to me, effortlessly, unpretentiously, and willingly. After all, even the supporting cast deserves to be loved, right?

Finding my Way Back

 I’ve been blogging since college. Back then, it was a niche to have my own space where people could relate to me and communicate. However, as technology evolves, plenty of platforms have been left behind. Writing, for one, is almost a forgotten art of expression. Most people these days wouldn’t even take the time to read captions, let alone blog posts, because they are so busy scrolling through fast-paced videos and snippets for a dopamine rush. But as an old soul, I find solace in written expressions and essays, much like a sneak peek into someone’s life. I find inspiration from the works of Jessica Zafra, Isa Garcia, Anna Oposa, and Arriane Serafico, so I’m going back to what I’ve known as my ultimate therapy—writing.

I guess it’s pertinent to lay my cards on the table now. I’ve been struggling to be productive these days. Motivation is so elusive, and problems seem to arise every time I try to take control of my life. But yesterday, as I was watching a Korean film entitled “So Long, See You Tomorrow,” I found myself on the verge of tears as I read the subtitle, “If only is the start of regret.” It resonated with me so much because when I was younger, passion was just a blink away, grit was what I ate for breakfast, and courage for dessert. But as I grow older, burnout, monotony, and some health problems have gotten in the way of what I’m so used to doing. Or perhaps, I have outgrown the things that I thought would be my devotion. Looking back, I can’t help but be proud of what I have achieved, but sad at the same time, because I feel as though the start of my own radioactive decay has sprung. Most of my friends have conquered the world, have their own families, and emerged in their own careers, while I feel like a bystander clapping for their victories.

Now that I’ve said this, I guess I have to hold on to what I know for sure. Self-love is not just about skin care, exercise, and good food; it’s also about self-compassion and self-forgiveness. Realize that wherever I am is where I’m supposed to be, and wherever I am heading is an adventure that awaits. After all, every life is a unique journey. Maybe it’s time to savor the moment, appreciate the mundane, and know that everyone’s path is different. In moments when I feel left out, defeated, and hopeless, maybe a nugget of wisdom to behold is that, in life, my story will keep unfolding, I can always start again, and it is also a blessing to be perfectly behind.