Life of a Misunderstood Ex-Introvert

 

Life has a way of testing us, especially when we least expect it. Allegations, judgment, and betrayal hit hard, challenging not just our patience but our very core.

When faced with these, the urge to defend, explain, or shout your truth can be overwhelming. But I’ve learned that true strength comes from staying genuine and calm, letting time reveal what words never will. I’ve realized that explaining myself and arguing with people often feels like a waste of time.

I’ve sacrificed more than most people know. There have been countless moments given up, unspoken struggles, and silent nights spent holding everything together—only to be met with misunderstanding and, more often than not, nothing in return. Maybe it’s my fault for spoiling people or becoming too soft. I’m not one for unnecessary drama, and to be honest, I’m too old for this kind of nonsense.

Expecting recognition or validation from others only leads to disappointment. True resilience comes from understanding that your worth isn’t defined by other people’s opinions, and your path doesn’t need an explanation. It’s just not my thing; it’s not on my wavelength.

There comes a point when you realize that defending yourself is pointless. Let people judge, let them form their opinions. Those who want to misunderstand will always do so.

But life has a funny way of making the truth come out when it’s least expected. I don’t need to prove anything, because time itself holds the proof, and patience is the ultimate sign of strength.

The hardest pill to swallow is betrayal by those you once called friends. It stings when the ones you trusted most become your harshest critics. But it’s in those moments that clarity hits. You find out who truly matters, who never did, and who never will. You learn who’s fake, who’s real, and who would actually stand by your side when everything else falls apart.

I’m at a point in life where I no longer seek approval from those who don’t value me. The noise may get louder, but I choose to stay grounded and real. I’ve found that peace doesn’t come from convincing others of who you are, but from knowing yourself and staying true to that person.

So, let the judgments roll in. Let the misunderstandings surround me like echoes. I’ll stay calm, knowing that my actions, my heart, and my sacrifices are enough. Time will tell the story, as it always does. Until then, I’ll keep moving forward, eyes ahead, surrounded by those who matter, stronger than ever—and no longer buying into any of the bullshit.

My love and hate for Airports 😔

Airports have always been a significant part of my life, embodying a complex mix of emotions. My father has been an overseas Filipino worker for as long as I can remember, spending most of his life in the Middle East—in Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar. While my mom, sister, and I remained in the Philippines, our family moments with my dad were mostly confined to his annual visits, usually in March.

The airport became the happiest place when he arrived and the saddest when he left. His departures marked the start of another stretch of lonely days, a cycle of happy moments turning into dreadful waits. My dad missed many milestones: birthdays, recognition days, anniversaries with my mom, and various award ceremonies. My childhood was shaped by a constant effort to make him proud, hoping he could return home sooner.

Despite the distance, my dad never failed to provide for us. My mom took on the dual role of both parents, but my dad was always present in spirit. Initially, he connected with us through voice tapes and snail mail, then through emails as technology advanced. Eventually, Blackberry phones, Skype, and other video apps allowed us to see each other more frequently, if only through screens.

Now, as an adult, the roles have reversed. I work in the UAE, and my dad, now 70, recently visited me. Despite his age, he has managed to tour Europe, play tennis, and continue his architectural work in the Philippines. He's far from retiring, always staying active and engaged.

He will be with me until July 5, but sadly, he won't be here for my birthday on the 7th. This thought saddens me, but I'm determined to make the most of the time we have together. As the day of his departure approaches, I feel a familiar sense of anxiety. Knowing he will be back in the Philippines on Friday fills me with dread, echoing the same emotions I felt as a child when he left for work. Airports, moments, and time itself are precious. I wish it weren't so hard, and that he didn't have to leave. But his sacrifices were for the best, and I owe so much to both my parents.

This love-hate relationship with airports has shaped my understanding of family, sacrifice, and the bittersweet nature of life. Each farewell at the airport is a reminder of the love that binds us, despite the miles and the years apart. 

Embracing New Beginnings: Reflecting on Maturity and Expertise in a New Job

Starting a new job is often a mix of excitement, anticipation, and yes, a hint of nervousness. It's a fresh start, a chance to grow professionally and personally, but it can also awaken memories of past experiences, especially the ones that challenged us to adapt and grow.

As I embark on this new chapter of my career, I can't help but reflect on my first job after my college graduation. I remember feeling overwhelmed, almost suffocated, by the pressure to adapt quickly to the demands of the role. Everything was new, from the office dynamics to the tasks at hand, and I found myself grappling with uncertainty and self-doubt.

Those initial days were marked by a constant sense of pressure, as if I were constantly treading water, trying to keep up with the pace of the workplace. But amidst the challenges, I learned invaluable lessons about resilience, perseverance, and the importance of embracing discomfort as a motivator for growth.

Fast forward to today, and I find myself in a similar position, starting a new job that comes with its own set of challenges and expectations. Yet, there's a notable difference this time around – a sense of calm, a quiet confidence that comes with experience and maturity.

While the pressures of adaptation still exist, they no longer weigh as heavily on my shoulders. I've honed my expertise over the years, developed a deeper understanding of my strengths and limitations, and cultivated a sense of self-assurance that allows me to navigate uncertainty with poise and grace.

The tasks may be somewhat new, the expectations are high, but I approach them with a sense of clarity and purpose that only comes with time. I've learned to trust in my abilities, to lean on the lessons of the past as guideposts for the future, and to embrace the challenges that lie ahead as opportunities for growth and discovery.

Maturity, it seems, has become a steadfast companion on this journey, tempering the anxieties of the unknown and illuminating the path forward with wisdom and insight. And while the pressures of adaptation may still linger, they're now tempered by a quiet confidence, a deep-rooted belief in my ability to rise to the occasion and thrive in the face of adversity.

In this new beginning, I find solace in the fact that it no longer bothers me that I haven't yet found friends in the workplace. While camaraderie is important, I've come to understand that building meaningful connections takes time. Instead of fretting over it, I focus my energy on excelling in my role and contributing positively to the team.

As I settle into my new role, I'm reminded of the journey that brought me here – the highs and lows, the triumphs and tribulations – dramas and I'm filled with gratitude for the lessons learned along the way. With maturity and expertise as my allies, I step boldly into the unknown, eager to embrace the challenges, seize the opportunities, and write the next chapter of my story.

Reigniting the Flame: My Basketball Journey Supported by My Girlfriend

There's a certain magic in rediscovering a passion that once burned bright but had dimmed over time. For me, that passion was basketball. From the squeak of the sneakers on the court to the swish of the net, basketball was once my everything. However, somewhere along the way, life's distractions led me astray, and my passion for the game suddenly disappeared. But recently, I found myself drawn back to the court, reigniting the flame that had long been dormant within me.

As a teenager, basketball was more than just a game; it was a part of who I was. From the moment I first held a basketball in my hands, I knew that it would be a lifelong love affair. I spent countless hours practicing my dribble, perfecting my shot, and dreaming of one day playing on a big stage. In those moments, nothing else mattered except the ball in my hands and the sound of the hoop beckoning me to shoot.

However, as I grew older, life began to pull me in different directions. Responsibilities piled up, priorities shifted, and the once all-consuming passion for basketball slowly faded into the background. Plus injuries combined with demands of work, relationships, and everyday life overshadowed the joy I once found on the court. I convinced myself that I had outgrown basketball, that it was time to focus on more "adult" pursuits.

For years, I lived without the rhythm of the game, content to watch from the sidelines as others continued to play. Yet, deep down, there was always a part of me that longed to return to the court, to feel the rush of adrenaline as I made a crucial shot or the camaraderie of teammates working towards a common goal.

And then, one day, something changed. Perhaps it was a passing glance at a basketball court, the sound of a game being played in the distance, or simply a longing that could no longer be ignored. Whatever the catalyst, I found myself lacing up my sneakers and stepping back onto the court, unsure of what to expect but determined to rediscover the joy I had once known.

At first, it was awkward, like trying to reconnect with an old friend after years apart. My shots were off, my dribble rusty, and my stamina nowhere near what it used to be. Doubt crept in, whispering that maybe I had made a mistake, that I didn't belong on the court anymore. But with each missed shot and every stumble, I pushed forward, fueled by a determination to reclaim what I had lost.

Slowly but surely, the pieces began to fall back into place. My shot started to find its rhythm, my dribble grew smoother, and my love for the game reignited with a fiery intensity. I discovered that basketball was more than just a hobby; it was a part of my identity, a source of joy and fulfillment that I had been missing.

After a long break from playing, I found myself stepping onto the court not just as a player, but as a coach. Coaching allowed me to stay connected to the game I loved while sharing my knowledge and passion with a new generation of players. It was a rewarding experience that reignited my love for basketball in unexpected ways, but deep down, I knew that my own journey as a player was far from over.

During this journey, my girlfriend played a pivotal role. She saw the spark in my eyes whenever we talked about basketball, and she recognized the void that its absence had left in my life. With unwavering support and encouragement, she pushed me to rediscover the talent and passion that had once defined me on the court.

Her belief in me gave me the strength to persevere through the challenges and setbacks. Whether it was joining me for late-night shooting sessions or cheering me on from the sidelines during games, her presence fueled my determination to become the player I once was and more.

And so, as I immersed myself back into the world of basketball, I realized that the passion had never truly left me; it had merely been dormant, waiting for the right moment to awaken once again. On the court, I found solace from the stresses of everyday life, a sanctuary where the only thing that mattered was the game unfolding before me.

But more than that, I rediscovered the sense of community that basketball fosters. Whether playing pickup games at the local park or joining a recreational league, I found myself surrounded by like-minded individuals who shared my love for the game. Yes my team, the DXB Buddies. All together, we laughed, we competed, and we celebrated victories big and small, united by our common bond.

In the end, my journey back to basketball taught me a valuable lesson: passions may fade, but they never truly die. They linger in the shadows, waiting for us to acknowledge them and breathe new life into them once again. And so, as I continue to chase my dreams on and off the court, I do so with a renewed sense of purpose and an unwavering commitment to never let the flame of passion extinguish again, knowing that with the support of my girlfriend, anything is possible.

Thank you palangging. Gihugmatikaw adlaw adlaw hantud sa hantud ❤️