Day in the life of a Filipina Nurse Practitioner

Morning in the Province

Good morning. Today is February 5th, 2025, and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.

Today we’re heading to Baguio City with my mom. We woke up early, made our way to Tapuanto to wait for the bus, and just allowed the morning to unfold slowly. My mom was looking for her senior card so we could save a little on the fare — a small but meaningful reminder of how simple and grounded life feels here.

The bus ride itself cost less than three dollars, and somehow that still amazes me. We’re only staying one night, but we had a full little plan: walk around the city, visit the cathedral, go to Burnham Park, eat vegetables, drink coffee, and buy small souvenirs for my coworkers back home.

Simple plans. Simple joy.

Traveling with Mama

My mom has still been recovering from a post-viral cough, but she’s doing better. She slept well, and I felt grateful just being beside her — sharing space, sharing time, sharing a journey.

Sometimes I forget that these moments won’t always be available to me. So I try to stay present. Even in the quiet. Even in the ordinary.

Arrival in Baguio

We made it to Baguio City and went straight to breakfast while waiting for our hotel check-in. Chops with rice, pancit, coffee — nothing fancy, but comforting.

There’s something grounding about eating simple food in a new place while feeling completely at home.

Burnham Park & Strawberry Taho

Later, we went to Burnham Park and had the famous strawberry taho — warm sweet tofu with strawberry syrup, a local favorite in Baguio. It was sweeter than I expected, but mixing it made it perfect.

We walked around, breathed in the fresh air, and just existed in the moment.

It’s Panagbenga season — the annual flower festival — so parts of the park and lake were closed for preparations. Even then, the energy felt peaceful.

The Penguin Story Reflection

While sitting in the park, I thought about a viral video I recently saw — a penguin who lost its partner, became depressed, and left its colony, choosing to walk alone toward the mountains.

The cameraman couldn’t interfere. Nature had to take its course.

And strangely… I related.

Not in a tragic way — but in a symbolic one.

Because I’m also choosing my own agency.
Not isolation — but self-direction.
Not loneliness — but peace.

I’m choosing myself.

Not to escape life — but to rebuild it.

Choosing My Own Life

For a long time, I let other people shape who I was. I let relationships define me. I let expectations mold me. And when those people left, I felt like I lost myself too.

So now, I’m rebuilding.

Not as someone’s extension.
Not as someone’s role.
Not as someone’s expectation.

But as me.

This journey isn’t about running away.
It’s about coming back to myself.

Mother-Daughter Healing

This trip is also about my mom.

About time.
About presence.
About rebuilding something that was interrupted by distance, life, work, and years of being busy surviving.

I want to know her.
I want to understand her.
I want to build memories that aren’t rushed.

But healing isn’t always easy.

Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it’s awkward.
Sometimes it feels one-sided.
Sometimes it brings up old wounds.

And sometimes, I have to accept that love doesn’t always look the way I imagine it should.

Learning to Release Expectations

I realized today that part of my sadness comes from expectations.

Wanting this trip to look a certain way.
Wanting connection to feel a certain way.
Wanting closeness to sound a certain way.

But healing doesn’t follow scripts.
And love doesn’t follow timelines.

Sometimes healing is simply being present.
Sometimes love is just showing up.
Sometimes growth is learning not to force what isn’t ready.

Choosing Peace Over Pressure

So today, I choose peace.

I choose patience.
I choose compassion.
I choose understanding.

Not just for my mom — but for myself.

This trip is teaching me that healing isn’t dramatic.
It’s quiet.
It’s slow.
It’s subtle.

It’s choosing yourself in small ways.
Over and over again.

Closing Reflection

This is my healing journey.
Not perfect.
Not polished.
Not performative.

Just honest.

A woman learning how to love herself.
A daughter learning how to love her mother differently.
A human learning how to rebuild an identity that belongs only to her.

One bus ride.
One conversation.
One quiet moment at a time.

And that is enough.

🤍