Monday Reflections — Finding Myself in Between
Good morning. Happy Monday.
I started the day on my way to work, driving through a beautiful San Francisco morning—blue skies, sunlight slowly breaking through, the kind of day that feels full of quiet possibility. I told myself it was going to be a beautiful day, and in some ways, I think I needed to believe that more than anything.
This past weekend was slow. I spent most of it at home, sick—something viral, maybe the flu again. I’m still coughing, still not 100%, but here I am, showing up. It was also my birthday weekend, and I didn’t get to celebrate the way I imagined. Maybe next weekend. Maybe that’s okay. Life doesn’t always follow the timelines we create for it.
On the way to work, I found myself reflecting—thinking about where I am in life. I feel like I’m in this in-between space. I’m questioning my YouTube journey, questioning my career, questioning what really fulfills me. I find so much meaning in my work as a nurse practitioner—the impact, the connection, the way I can bring comfort and care to my patients. That part of me feels real and grounded.
But at the same time, I don’t want that to be all that I am.
I want to show up for others, but I also want to show up for myself. And maybe… just existing, just continuing to explore, is my way of doing that right now. Maybe purpose doesn’t have to be one thing. Maybe it can be layered, evolving.
By lunchtime, I found myself at the park, taking a moment to breathe. The sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds, and I let myself slow down. The morning had been busy—some no-shows, some complex patients—and I felt that familiar tension around productivity and control. There are things I simply can’t control, and I’m learning, slowly, to let that be enough.
But underneath all of that… there’s anxiety.
I’ve been feeling it deeply lately. Questioning everything—my identity, my path, my relationships. I don’t want to be boxed into one version of myself. I don’t want to lose who I am trying to meet expectations. I want to be free in how I express myself, even if that means being a little messy, a little unpredictable, a little “too much.”
Because that’s real.
There are parts of me I’m still trying to understand—the highs, the lows, the intensity of my emotions. I’ve wondered about what it means, whether there’s something deeper there. And while I don’t have answers, I do have awareness. I see how I show up. I see how it affects people. I see the people who stay… and the ones who don’t.
And it hurts, sometimes, losing people I thought would be in my life forever.
But I’m also learning that not everyone is meant to stay. And the ones who do—the ones who see me fully and still choose me—those are the ones I hold close.
This journey I’m documenting, this way of speaking out loud, reflecting, recording—it’s my therapy for now. It’s how I process. It’s how I learn myself. I watch these moments back and see things I didn’t realize in the moment. It’s raw, but it’s honest.
And honesty is where I’m trying to live.
Lately, I’ve also been thinking about the future—about the Philippines, about building a simpler life. But I don’t know yet. And maybe I don’t need to know right now. Because I haven’t fully lived here yet. I haven’t fully embraced this chapter.
So maybe this is my time to be present. To explore. To enjoy what’s around me. The city, the food, the small moments. To live without constantly trying to figure everything out.
I’m learning to just… be.
After work, exhaustion hit me hard. That mental fatigue, that heaviness from overthinking all day. I questioned again—am I truly showing up for myself, or am I just going through the motions? Am I living, or just surviving?
I don’t have a clear answer.
But I do know that creating these videos, speaking my truth, choosing to express myself—that feels like something real. Even in uncertainty, I’m still choosing it.
Tonight, I turned to yoga.
Breathing deeply. Stretching. Grounding myself back into my body. Letting the noise quiet down, even just for a moment. These practices—yoga, meditation, reflection—they’ve become my anchor. My way of coming back to myself when everything feels too loud.
And in those quiet moments, I felt something softer:
Gratitude.
Gratitude for the people who stayed.
Gratitude for the chance to explore who I am.
Gratitude for this life, even in its uncertainty.
I don’t have everything figured out.
I don’t know exactly where I’m going.
But I’m here.
I’m trying.
I’m becoming.
And for now… that’s enough.
Namaste.
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