Day in the life of a Filipina Nurse PractitionerAbout Me

Hi, I’m Jasmine — a Filipina Nurse Practitioner sharing my healing, my journey, and the tools that make life softer.

Because if you love yourself, if you have confidence, you can walk into this world and you can shine

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  • Where I’m Going: A Reflection on Home, Healing, and the Life I’m Trying to Build

    Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous

    January 19, 2026

    Morning: On the Way to Half Moon Bay

    Hi everyone, good morning.

    Today we’re driving to Half Moon Bay—to the Cypress Tunnel. I’ve been there a few times, but today I’m taking JR for the first time. I’m driving, which already feels like a small adventure because I haven’t driven in a long time.

    Yesterday I walked to Dolores Park and along the San Francisco Bay, and it reminded me how much I love this city. The weather has been perfect lately—warm during the day, cooler by late afternoon. The kind of balance that feels gentle on the body.

    I caught myself thinking:
    Fat means I’m beautiful.
    It means I’m eating.
    It means I’m not starving myself.

    Everything bagel from Trader Joe’s this morning. Amazing.

    I called my mom before leaving.
    She told me to be careful.
    I told her I love her.

    We’re waiting for JR now. It’s been eight minutes.

    Loving San Francisco, Knowing It’s Not Forever

    As we drive, I realize something I haven’t fully admitted before.

    I love San Francisco.
    I love the diversity.
    I love that I can be myself here.
    I love that I can walk outside in house clothes and not feel judged.

    This city has held me through so many versions of myself.

    And yet, quietly, I know:

    San Francisco is not my forever home.

    Saying that out loud feels strange.
    For a long time, I thought this would be it.

    But I’m growing.
    I’m evolving.
    And a different version of me is learning to live in the present—
    While also letting herself imagine a different future.

    I keep saying this to the universe:

    I want to make the Philippines happen.

    Not today.
    Not tomorrow.
    But someday.

    On Recording My Life

    Later in the afternoon, I sit with myself and think about these videos.

    I’ve been doing these video diaries for more than six months now.
    I started in June, hoping to inspire authentic living.

    Some days, only 10 or 20 people watch.

    And sometimes that hurts more than I want to admit.

    But today, I realized something important.

    These videos are not just for an audience.
    They are for my future self.

    One day, when I finally take that leap—
    When I finally build the life I’ve been imagining—
    I will be grateful that I recorded this process.

    The confusion.
    The fear.
    The hoping.
    The slow becoming.

    This is proof that I tried.

    Thinking About My Mom

    So much of what I’m thinking about lately comes back to my mom.

    I want to travel with her.
    I want to live simply with her.
    I want to make memories while I still can.

    Working in healthcare teaches you something very clearly:

    Time with your parents is not infinite.

    I still carry regret about my dad.

    About not making enough time.
    About waiting too long.
    About thinking there would always be more time.

    There wasn’t.

    And I don’t want that story to repeat itself.

    If there is one promise I want to make to myself, it’s this:

    Do not wait to love.
    Do not wait to show up.
    Do not wait to choose your family.

    On Wanting the Philippines, and Being Afraid

    I want to make the Philippines happen.

    But I’m not romanticizing it.

    I think about healthcare.
    Medications.
    Aging.
    Income.
    Stability.

    I remember 2018.
    My dad’s stroke.
    Hospital bills.
    Wondering if better healthcare would have changed the ending.

    These are not small questions.

    So when I say I want to move, what I really mean is:

    I want to make a careful, informed, courageous decision.

    Not a fantasy.
    A real life.

    On Anxiety and Burnout

    Lately, my body has been speaking.

    Panic attacks.
    Anxiety.
    My hair falling out.

    It feels like a cycle:

    Burnout.
    Vacation.
    Return.
    Burnout again.

    And I know where it comes from.

    It comes from not yet living the life I know I want to live.

    From wanting freedom.
    Flexibility.
    Time.
    Presence.

    From wanting to choose my life—
    Not just survive it.

    On Being Seen

    Sometimes I wonder if anyone really hears what I’m trying to say.

    But I also know this:

    This is my way of resisting the box.
    This is my way of being brave.
    This is my quiet form of activism.

    Even if my words are messy.
    Even if my thoughts are unclear.
    Even if I’m still figuring it out.

    This is me.

    Evening: Where I Am Right Now

    So tonight, this is where I am.

    I am confident that I am going somewhere.

    I just haven’t taken the leap yet.

    And maybe that’s okay.

    Because timing matters.
    Preparation matters.
    Health matters.
    Family matters.

    Another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Another beautiful day to be stunning.

    Another beautiful day to become.

    🤍

  • It’s Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous: Processing, Planning, and Trusting the In-Between

    Mission Dolores Park, San Francisco — January 18, 2026

    It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon here at Mission Dolores Park in San Francisco. The sun is out, the city feels alive, and there’s a hum of laughter, music, dogs running freely, and people simply existing. It’s a little louder on one side of the park, so I moved—still with a beautiful view, still surrounded by warmth and light.

    And as always, it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.

    Today feels like one of those days meant for reflection. The kind where you don’t necessarily arrive at answers, but you sit with the questions long enough to understand why they’re there.

    My mom and I are traveling to the Philippines soon, and with that comes a lot of thoughts—some exciting, some heavy, some still unformed. I’ve been doing a lot of internal processing about where I want to be, not just geographically, but in life.

    I think I know where I want to go.
    But I haven’t fully taken the leap yet.

    And if I’m being honest, part of that hesitation comes from fear—the fear of the unknown, the fear of making the wrong decision, the fear of changing a life I worked so hard to build.

    The Tension Between Knowing and Acting

    There’s a strange space between knowing what you want and being ready to act on it. I’m living in that space right now.

    I wish I could say I’m 100% confident. I wish I could say, “Yes, this is it, no doubt.” But I’m not there yet—and that’s okay. I’m getting closer, slowly, intentionally, thoughtfully.

    I’m planning.
    I’m processing.
    I’m letting fear coexist with hope.

    I don’t want to rush this decision. If I take this leap of faith, I want it to be sustainable, not impulsive. I want a plan—not just a dream. I want to know that when I go, I can stay. That I can build a life that supports both me and my mom, one that allows us to travel, to rest, to live simply and fully.

    I know I keep circling this decision, going round and round—but maybe that’s part of honoring it.

    Trusting Time as My Ally

    Lately, I’ve been reminding myself that time is not my enemy. Time is actually my friend.

    Right now, I’m fortunate. I’m making enough to live comfortably. I’m saving. I’m learning. I’m building skills, experiences, and stability as a nurse practitioner here in San Francisco. I recognize the privilege in that—and I don’t take it lightly.

    San Francisco has been home since 2019. Nearly six years of growth, solitude, survival, healing, and becoming. And while I know this city isn’t my forever home, I’m grateful for what it has given me.

    I’m building a future outside of San Francisco while still appreciating the present within it.

    Living Simply, Dreaming Honestly

    What I want, at its core, is simple.

    I want a slower life.
    A minimal life.
    A life rooted in community, presence, and family.

    There’s something about the Philippines—the sense of togetherness, the rhythm of daily life, the way time feels less rushed—that keeps calling me back. And I think part of my longing is also a response to how individualistic life here can feel.

    I spend a lot of time alone, and sometimes that solitude can look lonely from the outside. Even from the inside, there are moments where it feels heavy. But there’s also peace here.

    These quiet moments—sitting alone in a park, reflecting, recording my thoughts—are where I reconnect with myself. I don’t think I could do this if I were constantly surrounded by people. These moments allow me to listen to my own voice.

    And I’ve learned that being alone doesn’t mean being empty.

    Learning to Accept Who I Am

    One of the biggest lessons I’m still learning is self-acceptance.

    I’m shy.
    I’m emotional.
    I feel deeply.
    I struggle to hide how I feel.

    For a long time, I thought those things were weaknesses. I carried shame for being quiet, for being sensitive, for not fitting into the version of strength the world often celebrates.

    But here’s the truth:
    I’m a shy person who became a nurse practitioner.
    I’m an emotional person who navigates complex patient care.
    I’m someone who feels deeply—and that’s exactly why I connect so well with others.

    My solo travel era taught me that I can exist in new places, meet new people, and still be myself. I don’t need to perform. I don’t need to become someone else to belong.

    Being shy didn’t stop me.
    Being emotional didn’t stop me.
    It shaped me.

    Letting Go Without Forcing Outcomes

    There are also relationships in my life—romantic and platonic—that feel uncertain right now. And instead of trying to control where they’re going, I’m practicing something unfamiliar: letting go without resentment.

    I’m naming what I feel.
    I’m being honest.
    And I’m releasing the rest to the universe.

    I’m learning that love doesn’t always mean holding tighter. Sometimes it means loosening your grip and trusting that what’s meant for you will remain—and what isn’t will gently fade.

    That doesn’t make it painless.
    But it makes it real.

    Choosing Presence While Building the Future

    At this moment, I don’t have all the answers.

    I know where I want to go.
    I don’t yet know when or how it will fully unfold.

    So for now, I’m choosing to live here—fully present, fully aware, fully grateful—while quietly preparing for what’s next. I’m planting seeds. I’m trusting alignment. I’m allowing timing to do its work.

    And maybe that’s enough for today.

    It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    And right now, being gorgeous looks like honesty, patience, and trust.

    Have a beautiful day. 🤍

  • Still Anxious, Still Showing Up

    January 15, 2026

    Hi everyone.
    Good morning.

    Today is January 15th, 2026—and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    We’re on our rainbow ride to work this morning. These drives have become a small ritual for me—a moment to breathe, to check in with myself, and to speak honestly before the day begins.

    I love you guys. Truly. I know there are maybe seven of you who actually watch my YouTube videos—my mom, my brother, my aunt, and a few others—but even that feels meaningful. It reminds me that I’m not invisible, even on days when I feel lost.

    Anxiety That Lives in the Body

    I’m still anxious today. I know why the anxiety is here. I can feel it before I can explain it.

    This morning, my partner told me I was talking in my sleep a few nights ago—something about security and heart monitors. Hearing that stopped me in my tracks. It made me realize that my body is still holding onto things I thought I had already processed.

    I think the anxiety from working in the ICU is revisiting me. Trauma doesn’t always leave quietly. Sometimes it waits until life slows down just enough to be heard.

    Physically, it’s showing up again:

    • nausea
    • vomiting
    • palpitations
    • feeling hot and flushed

    Not that kind of hot—although, yes, I know I’m hot—but the uncomfortable kind that comes with panic.

    Trying to Be a Better Patient

    I’ll be honest: I haven’t been great about taking my medications consistently. I know better. I work in healthcare. But when you’re the patient, things feel different.

    Today, I took my meds. I’m trying to be more intentional about caring for myself the way I would care for someone else. I’m trying to be a better patient.

    I keep asking myself:

    • How do other people deal with anxiety?
    • Does it ever really go away?
    • Does it stay until you make the decision you’re avoiding?
    • How much of this is my body trying to tell me something?

    When Overthinking Comes From Wanting to Live

    I worked so hard to be where I am.

    Hard enough that 2022 and 2023 were some of the darkest moments of my life. I’m proud of myself for surviving that. I’m proud that I made it to the other side. I’m grateful for this second chance at life.

    But now that I know what rock bottom feels like, I think I overthink everything. I want to be sure I’m choosing the right path. I want to be sure I’m living a life that feels aligned—one that’s calling me, not just one that looks good on paper.

    And the truth is: I know what that life is.

    I hear it.
    I’ve talked about it.
    I’ve imagined it.
    I’ve tried to make it sustainable in every possible way.

    So I have to ask myself—are these anxiety symptoms trying to tell me something?

    Are they saying:
    Girl, it’s time. Trust yourself. Take the leap.

    Because if that’s the case… why am I still choosing against it?

    Feeling Lost, But Still Here

    That’s where this feeling of being lost comes from. Not because I don’t know what I want—but because I’m scared of choosing it.

    I wonder sometimes if moving to the Philippines would bring clarity, or if I’m just hoping distance will quiet the noise. Even saying it out loud makes me anxious. Am I oversharing? Am I revealing too much too soon?

    Part of me is relieved that not many people are watching right now. My other channel didn’t feel safe. I don’t know who was watching or why. That uncertainty made me shrink instead of expand.

    So here I am again—smaller audience, quieter space, but more honest.

    Still Showing Up

    I’m almost at work now. I’m taking slow, deep breaths. I’m reminding myself that I’m safe.

    We’ll see if I can do some lunchtime diaries later. It’s going to be a busy day, but I’ll try to check in again when I can.

    For now, this is me showing up—even with anxiety.
    Even with questions.
    Even without answers.

    I’m still anxious.
    But at least I’m pretty.

    Have a good day, you guys.
    I love you. 🤍

  • Still Anxious, Still Hoping, Still Choosing to Believe

    Anxiety, Love, & Wanting a Simpler Life | Mental Health Diary Before My Philippines Trip

    January 16, 2026

    Hi everyone.
    Good morning.

    Today is January 16th, 2026—and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    It’s Friday. Happy Friday, you guys.

    We’re on our Whimo ride to work this morning, easing into the day. These rides have become a soft landing for me—a place where I can talk things out before the world asks anything of me.

    Checking In Before the Day Begins

    Last night, I caught up with JR, and it was really nice. I made the intention to see him this week because I’m not sure how much time I’ll have in the next couple of weeks before my flight to the Philippines. It felt grounding to reconnect with someone who knows my story—all of it, even the messy parts.

    I also called my mom yesterday. She’s been watching my videos, and she sees that I’ve been anxious. Hearing her acknowledge that—and still say she’s okay with the idea of going back to the Philippines—gave me so much relief. I planted the idea gently, and now she’s actually thinking about it as a possibility.

    That matters more than she probably knows.

    I want to make sure I can sustain it—for both of us. So I’m still saving. Still planning. Still trying to imagine what work could look like there. Maybe an online job. Maybe something completely separate from my nurse practitioner role. I don’t know yet.

    But I’m letting myself dream.

    Medication, Boundaries, and Being Human

    Yesterday was hard. I was anxious—but I took my medications. And because of that, I didn’t spiral into a panic attack. That feels important to name.

    It’s a reminder that my medications are working. That I need to be consistent. That I need to care for myself the way I encourage others to.

    I’ve also been taking gabapentin at night, which has helped me sleep. I actually got about eight hours last night, and that alone changed the tone of my morning.

    I’ll admit—I wasn’t perfect. I had a glass of wine last night, even though I know I’m not supposed to drink while on my meds. I felt it this morning. I’ve always been a lightweight, but even more so now.

    Still, it was nice to sit with someone familiar. Someone who knows my history. Someone who’s seen me in my worst and stayed.

    Friendships That Hold You Through Change

    JR is one of those people. He’s seen most versions of me—the good, the lost, the overwhelmed, the hopeful. We talked about our distant year, the time when I was in my “Dulu era,” and how somehow we still found our way back to each other.

    That kind of friendship is rare. It’s a sisterhood. One I’ll always treasure.

    We also talked about RK.

    That conversation was harder.

    Honoring Disappointment Without Rushing Healing

    I deeply care about RK. That hasn’t changed. But I’m hurt. I’m disappointed. And there hasn’t been good communication between us.

    How do you fix something when neither person feels safe enough to be fully vulnerable?

    I take accountability for my part in that. I know I struggle to open up to him. Sometimes I feel judged—or maybe that’s my own protective mechanism kicking in. I don’t know.

    What I do know is this: we’re on separate journeys right now.

    While I want to walk alongside him—and I wish he could walk alongside me—I don’t think our paths are aligned at this moment. That’s painful to admit. But naming it feels honest.

    Time might heal it. Or it might not.

    And for now, I’m choosing not to force optimism when what I really need is space to grieve what isn’t working.

    Dreaming of a Simpler Life

    What keeps pulling me forward is the vision I keep returning to.

    Living in the Philippines with my mom.
    A simpler life.
    More peace.
    More presence.

    When my mom said, “Let’s just do it,” something softened in me. It reassured me that things will be okay—because they always have been when she’s around.

    We didn’t have much when we first moved to the U.S. She didn’t even have a job at first. And yet—we were okay. Look at where I am now.

    So maybe this is my turn.
    Not even a sacrifice—but a shared dream.

    I still have nine months of student loans to pay off. That’s real. That’s grounding. That’s part of why I’m waiting. But nine months will pass quickly.

    And when the time comes, I’ll know.

    Ending the Week Gently

    We’re heading home now. It’s Friday. We reflected at the park during lunch. The day was long, but it was good.

    It’s a three-day weekend—MLK weekend—so I won’t be back on-site until Wednesday. That feels like a gift.

    Lately, I’ve been manifesting. Not in a rushed way—but in a hopeful, quiet way. Imagining how to make this next chapter possible. Imagining peace.

    I’m tired.
    I’m still anxious.
    But I’m excited.

    I’m excited for my trip.
    I’m excited for rest.
    I’m excited for what’s coming—even if I don’t know exactly what it looks like yet.

    Slow, deep breaths.
    We have time.

    And for now, that’s enough. 🤍

  • I Had a Panic Attack at Work. What Do I Do Now?

    January 14, 2026

    Hi everyone.
    Good morning.

    Today is January 14th, 2026—and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    I’m on my rainbow ride to work this morning, trying to ground myself before the day begins. These drives have become a space for reflection, for checking in with how I’m actually feeling instead of how I think I should feel.

    Lately, my anxiety has been creeping back in. Quiet at first. Then louder. And over the past few days, it’s started to feel like it’s edging toward panic again.

    When Anxiety Turns Into Panic

    I know my anxiety well. I can feel it in my body before my mind catches up. The warmth. The sweating. The palpitations. That sudden sense that something is wrong—even when nothing is wrong.

    Today, after lunch, it happened.

    Around 12:30, I returned to the office and felt it all at once. My heart started racing. I felt hot and clammy. My thoughts spiraled faster than I could slow them down. I tried breathing. I tried logic. I tried telling myself, You’re okay.

    But sometimes, none of that works.

    And that’s the hardest part to admit.

    Doing Your Best—And Still Struggling

    I’m trying. Truly.

    I’m working full-time. I’m showing up for my patients. I’m taking my medications (or at least trying to be more consistent). I’m actively trying to reconnect with therapy, even though scheduling feels impossible right now.

    And yet—here I am.

    Still anxious. Still panicking. Still overthinking.

    I think we don’t talk enough about how painful it is to be doing everything “right” and still feel like you’re barely holding it together. It makes you question yourself. It makes you wonder if you’re failing somehow.

    But I’m learning that struggling doesn’t mean I’m failing. It means I’m human.

    The Unknown Is What Scares Me Most

    If I’m being honest, a lot of my anxiety is rooted in uncertainty.

    Not knowing what comes next.
    Not knowing if the decisions I’m considering are the right ones.
    Not knowing where I’ll land if I take that leap of faith I keep thinking about.

    I know what I want.
    I know what my heart is asking for.
    But knowing doesn’t always make choosing easier.

    So I stay in the planning phase. I plant seeds. I hint. I talk around it. I hope clarity will just arrive one day fully formed.

    And when it doesn’t, my anxiety fills in the silence.

    Why I Keep Showing Up Anyway

    These diaries—these videos, these reflections—they’ve become a form of therapy for me.

    They’re quiet.
    They’re meditative.
    They’re a way for me to hear myself think.

    I don’t fully watch them back. I don’t over-edit them. I just show up and speak, because there’s something healing about being witnessed—even if it’s by strangers.

    It may look lonely. It may look like I’m talking to myself.

    But I’m talking to you.
    And sometimes, that makes all the difference.

    What I’m Doing After the Panic Attack

    After work, I walked. Slowly. With Dots. Breathing in the cool air. Letting my body remember that I’m safe now.

    Here’s what I’m reminding myself tonight:

    • I need to be more consistent with my medications
    • I need to use my as-needed supports when I need them
    • I need rest—not guilt for needing rest
    • I need patience with myself

    My vacation is coming. February is coming. A reset is coming—even if it feels far away right now.

    For now, I’m taking it one day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time.

    If You’re Reading This and Relating

    If you’ve had a panic attack and don’t know what to do next—please know this:

    You’re not broken.
    You’re not weak.
    You’re not behind.

    It’s okay to not be okay.
    It’s okay if your best doesn’t look perfect.
    It’s okay if you’re still figuring it out.

    I’m crying—but at least I’m pretty.
    I’m anxious—but I’m still here.
    I’m uncertain—but I’m trying.

    And right now, that’s enough.

    Another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    🤍

  • Why Talk Therapy Didn’t Work for Me (And What I’m Doing Now)

    January 13, 2026
    Being Lost, Overthinking, and Learning How to Trust

    Hey everyone. Good morning.
    Today is January 13th, 2026, and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

    I’m really lost, you guys.

    I don’t know what to do.
    And yet… I feel like I do know what to do.
    Maybe I’ll figure it out.
    Come on.

    This morning started quietly—making breakfast, moving slowly, trying to ground myself before the day began. Work was long. The kind of day filled with answering messages, returning phone calls, ordering labs and imaging. The kind of day where your brain doesn’t stop, even when your body is begging it to.

    We didn’t get to do a diary during lunch today.
    So here we are—after work, going for a walk.
    Finally breathing.

    Lately, I’ve been feeling really anxious.

    The physical symptoms are back—the nausea, the vomiting, that familiar tightness that lives somewhere between my chest and my throat. My body has a way of communicating with me when my mind refuses to slow down. And right now, it’s telling me something very clearly: you need to take care of your anxiety.

    I know this already.
    I knew it last month too.

    In December, I talked about investing time into therapy… and I kind of failed at that. Again. Timing didn’t work. Scheduling didn’t work. Life happened. But now that these symptoms are resurfacing, I can’t ignore it anymore. I’m trying—trying to coordinate therapy again, trying to listen instead of pushing through.

    I’m still on my medications, though I’ll be honest—I haven’t been as consistent as I should be. I’m working on that now. Taking them daily. Reintroducing my as-needed meds to see if they help with the nausea, the anxiety, the spiraling thoughts.

    What’s hard is knowing what’s causing the anxiety.

    I know the environment I’m in is part of it.
    I know it deep down.

    And yet, I’m still trying so hard to exist within it. To show up. To have purpose. To continue doing the work that gives my life meaning. In many ways, these videos—the diaries—have given me purpose. They’ve become my outlet. My way of understanding myself in real time.

    But sometimes I wonder if everything in my life actually aligns anymore.

    I know where I want to go.
    I just don’t know if it’s possible yet.
    Or if I’m just afraid to admit that something needs to change.

    Part of me has accepted it.
    Part of me is still in denial.
    Part of me still wants to keep trying.
    Still wants to keep showing up.

    And maybe that’s okay.

    This is me—no script, no plan—just walking, talking, reflecting, with my little dots beside me. These videos help me organize my thoughts, even when they’re messy. Even when I don’t have answers. I know it would help to have an outsider—someone to help me see how these thoughts are building, how they’re affecting me, what my options are.

    I’m trying to get there.

    Today’s reflection is short, but it’s honest. I almost didn’t make a video today. But I made a commitment—to show up every day, even on the days I feel lost. Especially on those days.

    So here I am.
    Still showing up.

    Sometimes it’s enough to just get fresh air. To step outside after being indoors all day. To walk with this little cutie who reminds me to slow down, to breathe, to be present.

    Maybe trusting the universe doesn’t mean having clarity.
    Maybe it just means continuing to walk forward—even when you don’t know where the path leads.

    Thank you for being here.
    Wish me luck.
    Send me good vibes.

    I love you. 🤍

  • Real Life Diaries: Healing, Anxiety & Choosing Authentic Living as a Filipina Nurse Practitioner

    January 12, 2026

    Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous

    Hey everyone, good morning.
    Today is January 12, 2026—and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

    This morning felt quiet and cold. I’m on my way to work, doing deep breaths because I didn’t sleep well last night. My mind was overthinking, revisiting things I thought I had already made peace with. I always say it’s okay to revisit the darkness from time to time—but not to stay there. Lately, though, it feels like the darkness lingered longer than I expected.

    And maybe that’s okay too.

    I think it’s just reminding me that I’m still healing. That I haven’t completely arrived at the version of myself I imagine yet. There’s still work to do. Still growth ahead. Still strength to build. Instead of discouraging me, these realizations are giving me that extra push to keep going—to actually work on my healing with more intention.

    Even on the days I look tired.
    Even on the days it’s cold.
    Even on the days I don’t feel as positive as usual.

    I’m really looking forward to traveling to the Philippines soon. I dream about gardening, being with my mom, and prioritizing the things that truly matter to me. I love planting seeds and watching things grow. My ultimate dream is a simple, sustainable life—maybe even a small farm where everything we need comes from one place.

    These reflections feel like planting seeds too. I don’t know if all of them will grow. I hope they do. For now, I’m just allowing myself to dream without pressure.

    Lately, I’ve also been thinking about why some people feel the need to bring others down. I try to move through life with understanding, kindness, and openness—but life hasn’t always been kind back. That reality has been heavy on my heart, and I’m learning how to protect my peace without closing myself off.

    I’ll be honest: this journey of creating—these videos, these diaries—has been discouraging at times. It’s been almost seven months of consistently showing up, creating, sharing… and sometimes it feels like I haven’t made a dent. Like I haven’t really reached anyone.

    But I have changed.

    I see the growth in myself. I see the courage it takes to keep going. And as long as I’m still trying, I haven’t failed yet.

    So I’ll keep going.

    Thank you to the few who continue to watch—my mom, my brother, my aunt, and those quiet supporters who stay. I appreciate you more than you know. I still believe in the message I’m sharing: authenticity, presence, healing, and choosing a life that aligns with who you truly are.

    Lunchtime Diaries

    Good afternoon. During my lunch break today, the anxiety crept back in. I’ve been questioning where I am in life and what comes next. There are things I can identify that cause my stress—but figuring out what to do about them feels overwhelming.

    Part of me dreams of moving to the Philippines, traveling the world with my mom, and living simply. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am—beyond what I ever imagined for myself—but sustaining this life in its current form doesn’t feel aligned anymore.

    I’m emotional. I’m a people pleaser. And right now, that combination feels exhausting.

    I can’t take a full leap of faith yet. I still have loans to pay off, responsibilities to meet, and practical realities to honor. I want to get to a place where I’m debt-free, financially stable, and able to continue my work in a way that doesn’t cost me my mental health.

    I know I need to invest more deeply in my healing—therapy, self-care, and learning how to exist without constantly burning out. Some days I feel confident and proud of how far I’ve come. Other days—like today—I question everything.

    There hasn’t been much traction on this platform I’m trying to build. And while it makes me want to change things up, I don’t want to lose my authenticity. I don’t want to curate myself just to be more palatable.

    I want you to see my real, unfiltered life.

    This is the daily life of Jasmine—a Filipina nurse practitioner trying to live honestly, trying to heal, trying to grow. These videos and words are mostly unedited because that’s who I am. Raw. Unfiltered. Still figuring it out.

    And in many ways, choosing myself like this goes against my people-pleasing tendencies. This—doing it for me—is healing.

    I’m learning to believe in myself more. To trust my message. To trust that even if only one person connects with my truth, it matters.

    I don’t have all the answers. I’m scared of the unknown. I overthink. I question my decisions. But I’m learning to take ownership of my choices and to honor who I am becoming.

    If I could live simply, stay close to the people I love, continue meaningful work, and inspire authentic living without burning out—that would be everything.

    I don’t know how possible that is yet.
    But I’m still here.
    Still trying.
    Still planting seeds.

    Thank you for reading.
    Thank you for witnessing my truth.

    Today is January 12, 2026—and it’s still a beautiful day to be gorgeous.

  • I Cried This Morning Because I Woke Up With Heavy Thoughts — Going Outside Helped Me Feel Lighter

    Hi everyone. Good morning.


    Today is Sunday, January 11th, 2026, and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    This morning felt a little heavier than usual. I woke up with emotions I didn’t invite, thoughts I didn’t expect, and a familiar darkness that I haven’t felt this strongly in a while. It reminded me of a version of myself from a couple of years ago—a version that felt lost, uncertain, and afraid of being stuck in the same place again.

    I didn’t fully understand why it was coming up. Sometimes it doesn’t come with a clear explanation. It just arrives.

    Revisiting the Darkness Without Judgment

    I found myself questioning things—my current relationship, where it’s going, whether I’m giving more love than I receive, and whether I will ever be loved in the same way that I love others. Those questions can feel overwhelming when they surface all at once.

    I’ve been hurt before. More than once. And if I’m being honest, a part of that pain comes from feeling misunderstood. From loving deeply and openly, even when the other person couldn’t fully see it. Even when it hurt. Even when I chose love anyway.

    This morning, those memories came back unannounced. I don’t know why I was thinking about him today. I don’t know why January 11th stirred something old inside me. But instead of pushing it away, I sat with it. I let myself feel it.

    Because sometimes healing doesn’t mean the darkness never returns.
    Sometimes healing means recognizing it, acknowledging it, and realizing it no longer owns you.

    Authenticity Over Perfection

    I know I talk a lot about positivity. About gratitude. About choosing joy. But I also want to be real with you. This space has always been about authenticity, not perfection.

    Healing isn’t linear. Growth isn’t pretty all the time. There are dips. There are moments when old wounds whisper, “Are you sure you’re healed?”

    And maybe the truth is—I’m still healing that version of myself. She’s better than before, stronger than before, but she still needs compassion. She still needs reassurance. She still needs time.

    Choosing Nature, Choosing Light

    So we did what we always try to do when things feel heavy—we went outside.

    We went hiking at Fort Funston, with our little dots running around, the sun warming our faces, and the Pacific Ocean stretching endlessly in front of us. The view was breathtaking. Grounding. Healing.

    There is something incredibly powerful about nature. About standing under the sun and realizing how small your worries feel compared to the vastness of the ocean. About breathing fresh air and remembering that life continues to move, no matter how heavy your thoughts feel in the moment.

    Step by step, my mood began to shift.
    Not because everything suddenly made sense—but because my environment changed.

    And sometimes, that’s enough.

    Looking Ahead With Intention

    Today also reminded me why I’m excited for February. A whole month dedicated to myself. To healing. To grounding. To reconnecting with the things that truly matter.

    Spending time with my mom.
    Gardening.
    Traveling.

    Travel has always been my way of rediscovering myself—placing myself in unfamiliar environments and proving that I can stand on my own. That I can adapt. That I can grow.

    This time, I’m traveling to the Philippines, my motherland, and to Thailand, a place that once held me gently during a time when I needed it most. Thailand felt like a second home back then, and I’m grateful for how welcoming it was to me during that chapter of my life.

    This journey feels less like an escape and more like a return—to myself.

    Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous

    Today became a reflection day. A reminder that it’s okay to feel sad in the morning and lighter by the afternoon. That it’s okay to share the highs and the lows. And that sometimes, the simplest acts—going outside, moving your body, standing in the sun—can shift everything.

    If you’re feeling overwhelmed, lost, or not quite yourself, let this be your gentle reminder:
    Change your environment. Step into nature. Let the sun find you.

    Today is January 11th, 2026.
    And it’s still another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

    Thank you for being here.
    Have a beautiful day. 💛

  • It’s Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous: Reflections on Friendship, Loss, and Choosing Myself

    January 10, 2026

    Hi everyone. Good morning.
    Today is January 10th, 2026, and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous—gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

    This morning, I wanted to pause and do a gentle reflection. Lately, I’ve been leaning into meditation, especially during quiet weekend mornings, and today felt like one of those days where the sun coming out felt symbolic. A reminder to slow down. To breathe. To reflect.

    And one of the things I’ve been thinking about deeply lately is friendship.

    Who Knows You—All of You—and Still Stays?

    As I’ve grown more comfortable with myself, as I’ve shared more openly about my struggles, my weaknesses, and the parts of me that aren’t polished or pretty, I’ve experienced a lot of loss.

    It’s become clearer who my friends really are.

    My truest friends are the ones who know me completely—the ones who have seen the worst parts of me, the messy parts, the parts I used to hide. They’re the ones who stayed even when I started sharing my truth more openly, even when I started building a platform, even when I started using my voice.

    Lately, I haven’t felt a lot of support from friends when it comes to the content I’m creating, and while that hurts, it’s also been clarifying. It shows me how deep—or shallow—some relationships truly were.

    So I want to ask you this:
    How many people in your life truly know who you are—and are still there for you?

    When I sit with that question, I realize I can count them on one hand. Maybe two. And honestly, that realization comes with both grief and gratitude.

    Accountability, Apologies, and Grace

    I know I’ve shared a lot about my darkest moments. I want to take accountability for that.

    I’m sorry to the friends who felt overwhelmed by me.
    I’m sorry if I expected too much when I was drowning.
    I’m sorry for being “too much” during a time when I didn’t know how to survive my own thoughts.

    Two years ago, I was in a place where waking up the next day felt optional. I was searching for relief anywhere I could find it.

    I’m also sorry for falling in love with someone who couldn’t love me back—and for how deeply that broke me. I’m sorry for how lost I became after that. I’m sorry for not knowing how to cope with so much change all at once.

    Losing people because I showed them who I really was has been one of the hardest parts of my healing journey. But it’s also taught me something powerful.

    The Friends Who Stay Are Everything

    I am endlessly grateful for my mom, my brother, a few close friends—and of course, Dots—who have seen me through my hardest seasons and are still here.

    Friendships aren’t just about fun, travel, or shared memories. They’re about understanding. They’re about staying. They’re about choosing each other even when things get uncomfortable.

    If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be this:
    Invest deeply in your friendships.
    Build relationships rooted in honesty, not just convenience.

    Yes—go have fun. Go out. Travel. Live.
    But what matters most are the people who know all parts of you and love you anyway.

    Choosing Authenticity Over Approval

    I’ve been creating more raw, emotional content lately because that’s who I am. I’m emotional. I overthink. I reflect deeply. And I’m finally allowing myself to share that openly.

    Right now, my circle is small. I don’t have many friends. But the friends I do have matter deeply to me because they’ve seen me at my worst—and they’re still choosing to walk with me.

    As I build this platform and pursue my dream of becoming an influencer with purpose—one who promotes authenticity, self-love, and truth—I know I won’t always be supported by the people I hoped would cheer the loudest.

    And that’s okay.

    Because I believe the people meant for me will find me.

    It’s Never Too Late to Find Your Voice

    At 37, I can honestly say: it’s never too late.

    I used to wish I was more beautiful. I used to wish my body was different. I used to wish I was someone else.

    Now? I’m content with who I am and proud of who I’m becoming.

    I know my purpose now. I know what I want to share with the world. I want to show people that they’re allowed to live freely, love themselves deeply, and choose their own path—because no one can take that agency away from you.

    When I rewatch my own videos, I see growth. I see courage. I see someone who kept going even when she was afraid.

    Yes, I still feel fear.
    Yes, I still experience anxiety.
    And yes, I’m still working toward the life I dream of—traveling with my mom, building a meaningful life, creating something tangible from my vision.

    But every step counts.

    Celebrating the Ones Who Celebrate You

    Later today, as we walked Dots along one of my favorite paths, I felt so much clarity and peace.

    Not everyone is meant to stay in your life forever. And that doesn’t mean the connection wasn’t real—it just means seasons change.

    What matters is this:
    Celebrate the people who see you.
    Celebrate the ones who hear you.
    Celebrate the ones who understand you—even the parts you once felt ashamed of.

    I may feel lonely sometimes, but I am rich in the love of the people who truly show up.

    And for that, I am grateful.

    Today is another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Have a good day, you guys.
    I love you.

    Final Thoughts

    I’m sharing my story not because it’s perfect—but because it’s real.

    Somewhere out there, someone who is afraid to take the leap might see this and think, If she can do it, maybe I can too.

    And that’s enough for me.

    So here’s to choosing yourself.
    Here’s to believing in your voice.
    Here’s to taking the leap—even if you’re scared.

    It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.
    Have a good day, you guys.
    I love you. 💛

  • Choosing to Live, Not Just Survive

    January 9, 2026 — Filipina Nurse Practitioner Diaries

    Hi everyone. Good morning.
    Today is January 9th, 2026, and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous. Gorgeous, gorgeous.

    This morning, we’re doing our Filipina Nurse Practitioner Diaries on the way to work — a little reflection, a little rambling, and a lot of honesty. It’s cold outside as I wait for Waymo, but my heart feels warm and hopeful.

    One thing that’s been grounding me lately is having something to look forward to. I’m really excited about my upcoming trip to the Philippines. I know it’s going to be a time of healing, rest, and joy. We’ll be gardening, planting seeds, slowing down, and spending intentional time together. Most of all, I’m excited to build something new — Mother & Daughter Diaries — a series that feels meaningful, long-term, and rooted in love.

    Choosing to Live, Not Just Survive

    On the ride to work this morning, I found myself reflecting on something I heard recently: living versus surviving.

    That idea stayed with me.

    For so long, I lived in survival mode — working to get through the day, through the shift, through the next responsibility. And while survival got me here, I’m realizing that now, at 37, I’m learning how to live.

    Living, for me, looks like choosing intentionally.

    I’m choosing to live in San Francisco — one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I know it gets criticized a lot for what people choose to focus on: homelessness, addiction, struggle. Those realities exist. But so does beauty. The parks. The neighborhoods. The colorful houses. The quiet moments of sunlight between buildings.

    I want my videos to reflect that fuller truth.

    Living the Dream I Worked For

    I’m also living a dream I worked incredibly hard for — being a nurse practitioner.

    Serving the LGBTQ+ community, especially the trans community, gives my work deep meaning and purpose. It fills me with pride. This chapter of my life is still a choice, one I make every day with intention.

    At the same time, I hold another dream close to my heart.

    I see myself in the Philippines. I see myself traveling the world with my mom. I see a slower, simpler, more sustainable life — one rooted in connection, presence, and joy.

    Right now, I’m building toward that future. I could take the leap today, but for me, building something that can last feels important. I want sustainability. I want peace. I want longevity.

    And I trust myself enough now to know when it’s time.

    Lunchtime Diaries: Learning to Pause

    Later in the day, I took my lunch outside — something I couldn’t have imagined doing earlier in my career.

    There was a time when lunch meant catching up on notes, overthinking decisions, and pushing through exhaustion. Now, I step outside. I sit in the sun. I eat slowly. I reflect.

    This shift matters.

    I’m learning that my identity is more than my job. Yes, I’m a nurse practitioner. But I’m also a human being — someone who deserves rest, joy, and space to simply exist.

    Finding that balance has become one of my biggest intentions.

    Overthinking, Growth, and Self-Trust

    I know I tend to overthink — especially when it comes to my work. Recently, I worried that I wasn’t doing enough for a patient, that I might have missed something.

    Instead of criticism, I received reassurance.

    I was reminded that asking for help, seeking guidance, and advocating for patients is doing my best.

    That moment stayed with me. It reminded me how much anxiety comes from self-doubt — and how powerful reassurance and self-trust can be.

    Healing, Confidence, and Looking Ahead

    As I reflect on the past few years, I’m struck by how much has changed.

    There was a time not long ago when I was deeply struggling with depression and anxiety. And now — I see the world differently. I see myself differently.

    I’m more confident. More grounded. Less afraid of my own thoughts.

    I’m opening myself up to possibility. To vulnerability. To being seen, heard, and felt.

    That’s why I keep writing. That’s why I keep sharing.

    Because if my story helps even one person feel less alone, more seen, or more confident in their truth — then this journey is worth it.

    Final Reflections

    Today reminded me that growth doesn’t happen all at once. It happens quietly — in lunch breaks, car rides home, moments of reflection.

    I’m growing. I’m changing. I’m building a future — for myself and for my mom.

    And I’m excited for what’s to come.

    It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.

    Thank you for being here.

    With love,
    Jasmine

    Please like, comment, share, and follow along on Instagram @inspireauthenticliving, TikTok, and Facebook. This is part of my ongoing Filipina Nurse Practitioner Diaries — thank you for being here.