January 30, 2026
Good morning. Today is January 30th, 2026 — and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, amazing, stunning, and kind.
It’s my last day of work before we leave for the Philippines tomorrow. I’m heading in with a full heart, a tired body, and a deep awareness that this break is not just deserved — it’s necessary.
Yesterday was difficult. Today feels lighter. And that’s life, isn’t it? One day heavy, the next offering us another chance to begin again.
Burnout Whispers — and I’m Finally Listening
Lately, burnout hasn’t been screaming. It’s been whispering.
And before it gets louder, I’m choosing to pause.
As healthcare providers, we give so much of ourselves — emotionally, mentally, physically. I often find myself wondering who will take care of my patients when I step away, because I know the relationships I’ve built matter. I’m grateful for colleagues I trust and for patients who feel safe with me.
But I’m learning something important:
To take care of others well, I have to take care of myself too.
This trip feels like an act of responsibility — not abandonment.
Packing Light, Living Simply
I haven’t fully packed yet (I’ll show you how I pack soon), but I already know this will be a simple vacation.
A week or two of clothes. A washer and dryer waiting at home. And a few meaningful things I’m bringing to leave behind — an ice maker, a coffee maker, a shower head, small comforts meant to stay in the Philippines.
This trip isn’t about excess.
It’s about ease.
Grief Comes in Waves — Even When You’re Healing
I’ve said before that grieving a friend has gotten quieter.
But the truth is — the volume changes.
These past couple of days, it’s been louder. Maybe because I’m about to leave. Maybe because the Philippines holds memories I once shared with him. Maybe because silence leaves room for thoughts to echo.
I still haven’t heard from him.
And this time, I’m not pushing. I’m not chasing. I’m honoring what I’ve learned.
I spoke my truth — not to hurt, not to separate — but to grow. If honesty felt like an attack to him, then the distance may be necessary. That doesn’t erase the care I still hold.
Two things can be true:
- I can accept the space.
- And I can still miss him.
Lunchtime Diaries: Letting Myself Feel
By lunchtime, I’m sitting with rice and canned fish, wearing pink — intentionally.
In a world that can feel heavy, I choose color. I choose brightness. I choose softness.
I’m letting myself feel today. I’m not rushing grief. I’m not shaming myself for caring deeply. I don’t ghost people because I wouldn’t want to be ghosted.
That’s not weakness.
That’s values.
I’m Not “Too Much” — I’m Just Honest
Over the past few years, I’ve lost a colleague, a friend, and someone I once imagined a future with.
It’s easy to ask: What’s wrong with me?
But as I reflect — especially through these journals — I see something else.
I see growth.
I see someone learning to name her flaws without self-hate. Someone who can say, I was obsessive, without tearing herself apart. Someone who loved deeply and misunderstood teasing for safety — because her intentions were always rooted in care.
I am not too much.
I am not crazy.
I am human.
And the right people won’t be scared by my honesty — they’ll be grounded by it.
Choosing Peace Over Perfection
I’m done chasing perfection.
I’m done chasing people.
The people meant to stay will stay. The rest were part of a chapter — important, formative, and complete.
Right now, I’m grateful.
For my mom. My siblings. My partner. My friends who check in, who see me, who stay.
Thank you for choosing me back.
Tomorrow, I Go Home
Tomorrow, I fly to the Philippines.
I’ll garden. I’ll rest. I’ll heal old versions of myself. I’ll spend time with my mom. I’ll create. I’ll try — even when I feel shy — to document this journey.
This isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about returning to who I’ve always been.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for listening. Thank you for witnessing this season.
I can’t wait to share what comes next. 🤍
Day in the life of a Filipina Nurse Practitioner 
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