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.

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  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 10: Choosing Quiet, Family, and Loving Every Version of Me

    January 11, 2026
    Another beautiful day to be gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, and stunning.

    A Slow Morning, A Soft Reset

    Today feels gentle.

    It’s warm outside, peaceful, and quiet — the kind of quiet that lets your nervous system finally exhale. I’m still recovering from the flu, so I’ve been moving slowly, intentionally, and with a lot more compassion for my body. Instead of pushing through, I’m choosing rest.

    We spent time outside today, soaking in the calm, enjoying the stillness. These moments remind me how healing it is to simply be — without rushing, without expectations, without needing to perform.

    Gratitude for Family

    One thing I value deeply in this life is family.

    My mom is the most important person in my life right now. I don’t say that lightly. I’m endlessly grateful for her love, her support, and her presence throughout all 37 years of my life.

    I’m turning 38 this year — on May 2, 2026 — and just saying that out loud fills me with gratitude. Another year. Another chance. Another opportunity to live.

    There were moments in my life, two, three, even four years ago, when I could have easily given up. I was finishing my master’s program, still working as an ICU nurse, and carrying so much unseen weight.

    I’m here today because I didn’t give up — and because I allowed myself to ask for help.

    Healing Loudly, Proudly

    When I say that I’m healing myself while I’m here in the Philippines, I say it proudly.

    This season of rebranding myself — of becoming a better, more aligned version of me — is something I’m deeply thankful for. Healing isn’t passive. It takes courage to look inward, to be vulnerable, to face the parts of yourself you once avoided.

    I’m grateful that I sought help when I needed it. I’m grateful that I allowed myself to be vulnerable. Without that, I wouldn’t be here — loving life, seeing beauty again, and viewing the world through a softer, kinder lens.

    Loss, Growth, and Finding Myself Again

    The past few years have changed me.

    I’ve grown so much — even while losing so much. I’ve lost friends. I’ve lost partners. At times, I felt like I lost myself.

    And now, slowly, gently, I’m finding my way back.

    That’s why I continue these blogs. That’s why I say, “It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.” Because there was a time when I chose darkness. When I isolated myself. When I stayed silent out of shame and confusion.

    Today feels different.

    I’m not fully there yet — I’m still exploring my identity, still healing — but I can clearly see how far I’ve come. And that progress deserves to be celebrated.

    Celebrating Small Wins

    Today’s celebration looks simple.

    Mocha cake.

    Small wins matter. Especially when you’re only partway through your healing journey. Even one-third into this process, I can confidently say that coming to the Philippines was one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself.

    This time has allowed me to:

    • Rest without guilt
    • Choose myself without explanation
    • Focus on peace and quiet
    • Reframe what success looks like

    Growth doesn’t always need a grand milestone. Sometimes, it just needs acknowledgment.

    Simplicity vs. Comfort

    I’ve been honest with myself during this journey.

    Living in the Philippines isn’t easy — especially when you’re coming from the comforts of life in the United States. California offered ease, income, access, and familiarity.

    What draws me here instead is the simplicity.

    The peace.
    The quiet.
    The sense of family and community.

    These are things I searched for in the U.S. While I built a chosen family there, I’m learning that not all friendships are meant to last forever — and that realization carries its own grief.

    Attachment, Authenticity, and Boundaries

    I’m someone who values deep connection.

    When I let people in, I let them in fully. I know now that this makes me someone who gets easily attached — and while some may call that a weakness, I’ve learned to see it as a strength.

    The hard lesson I’ve learned is this: not everyone is kind, even when they appear to be. Not everyone values authenticity, even when they say they do.

    When someone shows me that my truth isn’t welcome, I choose to step away. I choose environments where honesty, vulnerability, and authenticity are celebrated.

    That choice has brought me peace.

    Loving the Introverted, Shy Me

    For a long time, I tried to change who I was to belong.

    I molded myself into a more outgoing, fun, party version — even though, at my core, I’m introverted, shy, and slow to open up.

    That version of me no longer exists.

    I now value friendships that see all of me — the quiet me, the emotional me, the one who needs time and safety to open up.

    And I’m learning to love that version of myself.

    There is beauty in being shy.
    There is strength in being emotional.
    There is power in vulnerability.

    Separating Identity from Accomplishments

    This journey has also taught me something profound.

    I am more than my résumé.

    Yes — I went to UC Berkeley.
    Yes — I became a nurse, then an ICU nurse, then a nurse practitioner.

    But beyond the accolades, titles, and achievements — there is me.

    This version of myself — honest, raw, imperfect — deserves love too.

    It took me a long time to be able to look into the camera and celebrate myself without shame. To speak confidently. To own my story.

    And I’m proud of that growth.

    Choosing Myself, Fully

    Right now, this season is about holding myself.

    Holding my emotions.
    Holding my thoughts.
    Listening without judgment.

    After 37 years of chasing dreams, achievements, and stability, I’m finally allowing myself to pause.

    To listen.
    To reflect.
    To love.

    This is my time.

    Closing Reflection

    I’m grateful for another chance at life.
    Grateful for this reset.
    Grateful for the quiet.

    Thank you for being here. Thank you for listening. Thank you for allowing me to share this version of myself — honest, evolving, and real.

    It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.

    With love,
    Jasmine

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 9: Choosing Myself, Healing from ICU Trauma, and Coming Home

    February 10, 2026
    Another beautiful day to be gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, stunning, incredible, and kind.

    Coming Home to Reflect

    Being back in the Philippines has created so much space for reflection. Space to breathe. Space to feel. Space to finally sit with parts of my story that I had buried deep just to survive.

    I know I still have a long way to go in my healing journey, but I can honestly say that I am making progress. And that alone feels like a win. I’m slowly tapping into the moments, environments, and relationships that caused me the most pain — not to reopen wounds, but to finally understand them.

    Revisiting My ICU Days

    Yesterday, I found myself revisiting my ICU days — particularly my time working in a cardiothoracic ICU at UCSF. It was one of my dream jobs. I worked incredibly hard to get there.

    Before UCSF, my first ICU job was at USC. Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was. That unit was close‑knit. Supportive. Kind. I felt seen, valued, and protected. It felt like family. People genuinely wanted you to succeed.

    That experience shaped what I believed ICU culture should look like.

    When a Dream Job Becomes a Source of Trauma

    Moving to San Francisco for my dream job was supposed to be the next big milestone. And while the clinical rigor at UCSF was everything I hoped for, the environment itself was deeply disappointing.

    Yes, cardiothoracic ICU work is inherently stressful — we care for the sickest of the sick. But what made it unbearable wasn’t just the work. It was the culture.

    Strong personalities. Senior nurses who didn’t see me as competent. Being treated like I didn’t belong.

    Bullying in healthcare is real — and it’s rarely addressed openly. At the time, I chose silence. I chose resilience. I told myself that being strong‑minded was the only way to survive.

    But silence doesn’t mean safety.

    Looking back, I see how much trauma that environment caused me.

    Questioning My Worth

    When your dream job starts breaking you down, you begin questioning everything:

    • Am I not good enough?
    • Am I incompetent?
    • Do I really belong here?

    I came in with ICU experience — just not cardiothoracic ICU experience. I was transparent about that during my interview. I was still hired.

    In nursing, we all have to start somewhere.

    Yet I was made to feel like I was constantly falling short.

    I stayed for nearly four years. Then COVID happened.

    COVID: A Forced Pivot That Changed Everything

    As devastating as COVID was, it forced me to pause and re‑evaluate my life.

    It helped me reorganize my thoughts, my priorities, and what I truly valued.

    I realized I wanted more than just survival.
    I wanted balance.
    I wanted a life.

    I loved the ICU. I loved the adrenaline. I loved knowing I had the skills to save lives.

    But I didn’t love the way it was costing me my health — mentally and physically.

    My life became a cycle: work, sleep, repeat.
    Eleven to twelve 12‑hour shifts in a row.
    Vacations planned as rewards — only to get sick once I finally rested.

    That wasn’t living.

    Choosing Myself Through Higher Education

    That’s when I returned to a dream I had always carried: pursuing higher education.

    I had always seen myself getting my master’s degree. Becoming a nurse practitioner.

    But at the time, the partner I moved to San Francisco for didn’t believe in that dream. He questioned it. Belittled it.

    Why would a nurse get a master’s degree?

    The answer was always clear to me.

    During COVID, I enrolled in the UCSF Nurse Practitioner program — and I stuck through it. Because I was working and studying at UCSF, my master’s degree was fully covered.

    That decision changed my life.

    I’m still paying off my undergraduate loans, but I didn’t add to them. More importantly, I invested in myself.

    A Better Place, A New Role

    Today, I’m no longer in the ICU.

    I’m a nurse practitioner in primary care.

    And while the ICU shaped me, this role allows me to breathe.

    One of the ways I give back is by being honest about nursing. Nursing is hard. Healthcare is hard. Strong personalities exist everywhere.

    Bullying exists — and it needs to be talked about.

    But don’t let it define you. Don’t let it take away your purpose.

    The Real Theme of This Healing Journey

    If there’s one theme that keeps showing up during my time in the Philippines, it’s this:

    Learning to love myself.

    For so long, I measured my worth by how much I could give to others. I wanted to be loved, accepted, validated.

    When people left, I realized something painful — I hadn’t been loving myself at all.

    This season is different.

    I’m showing up for myself.
    I’m honoring my values.
    I’m choosing what aligns with me.

    Losing people has been a blessing in disguise.

    Showing Up, Even When It Feels Uncomfortable

    I used to be afraid to create videos like this.
    Afraid people would think it’s cringe.
    Afraid of judgment.

    And honestly — that fear still exists.

    But I’m doing it anyway.

    Because these reflections matter. Not just for others — but for me.

    Through this journey, I’m discovering new versions of myself. Leaning into my strengths. Acknowledging my weaknesses. Learning how to grow without shame.

    Gratitude

    I’m grateful for the opportunity to grow.
    Grateful for the lessons.
    Grateful for the chance to finally slow down.

    This healing journey isn’t linear — but it’s mine.

    And I’m proud of myself for continuing.

    With love,
    Jasmine

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 8: Returning to Faith, Choosing Myself, and Learning to Rest

    Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous

    Today is February 8, 2026.
    And it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, stunning, and kind.

    This morning began slowly—breakfast at home, soft conversations, brushing teeth, showering, and getting ready for church. Nothing extravagant. Nothing rushed. Just presence. My mom and I prepared to go to Mass at Our Lady of Manaoag, and in that simplicity, I felt something I’ve been craving for a long time: grounding.

    There’s something about starting the day with intention—before the noise, before expectations, before the world asks anything of you. Today felt like a reminder that healing doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like sunscreen as moisturizer, simple makeup applied with your hands, borrowed lipstick from your mom, and choosing to show up as you are.

    Simple Routines, Sacred Moments

    I forgot my usual moisturizer, but I had a UV moisturizer I bought in Japan—hydrating, protective, imperfect, but enough. And maybe that’s symbolic of where I am right now. I don’t always have everything I think I need, but I always seem to have enough.

    My makeup routine took less than ten minutes. No heavy coverage. No attempt to be anything other than myself. I like looking natural. I like seeing my real face. I like honoring the skin I’m in.

    Growing up, I was taught—like many Filipinos—that whiteness was something to aspire to. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to reject that narrative. I don’t want to be pale. I don’t want to erase where I come from. I want to honor my natural complexion, my morena roots, the spectrum that I exist in. My dad is moreno. My mom is mestiza. I am somewhere in between—and that is more than enough.

    Embracing Who I Am (Even the Quiet Parts)

    Lately, I’ve been learning something important about myself:
    I am shy.
    I always have been.

    For a long time, I felt ashamed of that. I thought it was something I needed to fix, something I needed to grow out of, something that made me less than. But now, I’m learning to see it differently. My shyness protected me. It shaped me. It gave me space to observe, to feel deeply, to reflect.

    I’m learning to celebrate that version of myself instead of apologizing for her.

    I’m realizing that I exist on a spectrum—not just in identity, but in emotion, in social energy, in how I move through the world. And that’s okay. I don’t need to perform confidence all the time. I don’t need to be loud to be powerful. I don’t need to change who I am to belong.

    Returning to Church With Open Eyes

    I was born Catholic. Baptized Catholic. And for a long time, I ran away from the Church.

    Going to UC Berkeley opened my eyes to how religion—especially Catholicism—was used as a tool of colonization. How it was used to control, to “civilize,” to suppress indigenous identities and label them as improper or primal. These are difficult truths, and I don’t shy away from them.

    But healing isn’t about erasing complexity. It’s about holding it.

    As I stood outside Our Lady of Manaoag, waiting for Mass, surrounded by hundreds of people spilling outside the church, I realized something: faith and colonization can coexist in the same history—but faith can also be reclaimed.

    I’m not returning to religion blindly. I’m returning with awareness. With agency. With choice.

    Trusting the Process When I Feel Lost

    Lately, I’ve felt lost.

    I’m grieving friendships.
    I’m grieving relationships.
    I’m grieving versions of myself that no longer fit.

    I keep asking myself hard questions:
    Why do I love people who don’t show up for me?
    Why do I value people who don’t truly value me?
    Why do I keep abandoning myself?

    And the honest answer is this: I’m learning how deeply my identity was shaped by others. When they left, I didn’t just lose them—I lost parts of myself. Now, I’m rebuilding. And rebuilding is lonely. It’s exhausting. It’s emotional.

    But it’s also necessary.

    Choosing Myself, Again and Again

    One of the most important lessons I’m learning is this: choosing myself is not selfish. It’s survival.

    I am learning to take ownership of my agency.
    I am learning to trust my decisions.
    I am learning to let go of what I cannot control.

    I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be perfect, trying to manage every outcome, trying to prevent pain. But life doesn’t work that way. Healing doesn’t work that way.

    There are things I cannot fix.
    There are people I cannot save.
    There are outcomes I cannot force.

    And so I’m learning to surrender—not in defeat, but in trust.

    Living With Purpose as a Nurse Practitioner

    I am deeply grateful for where I am in my career. I have a stable job. A supportive supervising physician. Supportive colleagues. The privilege of doing work that matters.

    But I’m also learning not to let my title consume my identity.

    Being a nurse practitioner is part of who I am—but it is not all of who I am. I want to live a life where my profession aligns with my values, my truth, my humanity. Where I can care for others without abandoning myself.

    This work is heavy. Holding space for people’s pain, trauma, fear, and hope is a responsibility I don’t take lightly. That’s why this healing journey is not optional for me—it’s essential. I owe it to myself and to my patients to be grounded, honest, and whole.

    Why I Say “Another Beautiful Day to Be Gorgeous”

    Some days are not beautiful.
    Some days are heavy.
    Some days are unfair—especially for minorities, for victims, for those living under systems of power and control.

    I’m not blind to that.

    But when I say, “It’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous,” I say it with intention. With resistance. With hope.

    I say it because choosing light in dark times is an act of defiance.
    I say it because positivity, when intentional, can be grounding.
    I say it because sometimes you have to speak the future you want into existence.

    This daily commitment is me showing up for myself. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m unsure. Even when I’m healing.

    Looking Ahead With Faith

    I don’t have all the answers.
    I don’t know exactly where I’m going.
    But I trust that I am being guided.

    Returning to faith doesn’t mean I’ve stopped questioning. It means I’ve started trusting—trusting that there is something greater holding me when I feel lost.

    This journey is slow.
    This journey is imperfect.
    But it is mine.

    And that, finally, feels enough.

    Thank you for being here.
    Thank you for listening.
    And thank you for choosing yourself today, too.

    ✨ Another beautiful day to be gorgeous. ✨

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines Episode 7 — Choosing Agency, Voice, and Becoming

    February 6, 2026 | Philippines

    Hi everyone, good evening. 🤍

    This is a quiet reflection — not a polished one, not a performative one — just an honest one.

    I came to the Philippines and took a month off work to focus on myself. But the deeper work I’m doing here isn’t just rest — it’s reflection. It’s asking hard questions. It’s sitting with discomfort. It’s letting myself look at who I am, how I got here, and who I’m becoming.

    Lately, I’ve been asking myself:

    Why do I question myself so much?
    Why do I wonder if I’m too difficult to love?
    Why do my overthinking thoughts overpower my positive ones?

    I know this kind of self-talk isn’t healthy — but I also know that healing means going to the root, not avoiding it. I don’t want to silence the questions. I want to understand them.

    Midlife Questions at 37

    Maybe this is what people call a midlife crisis.

    At 37, I’m questioning where I am in life — even though, on paper, I’ve “made it.”

    I’ve built stability. I’ve achieved the goals I once dreamed of. I’ve become a nurse practitioner. I’ve created a career rooted in purpose, service, and impact.

    And yet — I’m still asking:

    Is this the right place?
    Is this the right version of me?

    What I know is this: I live with purpose. I care deeply about mental health — not just in my content, but in my practice. I value healing, safety, emotional well-being, and humanity in healthcare. And that part of me keeps me grounded.

    This life didn’t come easy. It took years of work, resilience, pain, learning, unlearning, and survival.

    But the truth is — for most of my life, I wasn’t living.

    I was surviving.

    Representation, Identity, and the Girl Who Dreamed

    Growing up, I didn’t have many role models.

    When people asked me what I wanted to be, I said:

    • A celebrity
    • Miss Universe

    It sounds delusional — and maybe it was — but it came from something real: a desire to be seen, to matter, to make an impact.

    Now I understand something different:

    I don’t need a crown.
    I don’t need a stage.
    I don’t need a title.

    My platform is my voice.
    My crown is my authenticity.
    My impact is my story.

    Representation isn’t about perfection — it’s about presence.

    Bullying, Survival, and Self-Belief

    I rarely talk about this, but I was bullied.

    In middle school. In high school. And later, in parts of my nursing career.

    I was the quiet girl.
    The loner.
    The shy one.
    The one who didn’t belong.

    I learned how to survive by staying quiet.
    By being small.
    By being agreeable.
    By not taking up space.

    Even in healthcare, I experienced bullying — from colleagues, from systems, from hierarchies. I learned how to endure instead of protect myself.

    But I also learned something else:

    I believed in myself.

    Enough to get into UC Berkeley.
    Enough to survive it.
    Enough to move to San Francisco.
    Enough to dream of UCSF.
    Enough to apply.
    Enough to walk into spaces I never thought I belonged in.
    Enough to become a nurse practitioner.

    Every step forward was built on self-belief — even when fear was louder.

    Why I Make These Videos

    I still ask myself:

    Why do I keep doing this?
    Why do I keep sharing?
    Why do I keep showing up?

    The answer is simple:

    Because I believe in myself.

    These videos are my agency.
    My voice.
    My healing.
    My documentation.
    My proof.

    I’m not fully healed.
    I’m not fully whole.
    I’m not fully confident.

    But I am becoming.

    And becoming deserves to be witnessed.

    I believe that sharing my mental health journey matters.
    I believe stories save lives.
    I believe representation heals.
    I believe vulnerability creates safety.

    I’ve been in dark places.
    Isolation.
    Depression.
    Exhaustion.
    Losing hope.
    Feeling like I wasn’t enough.

    And I survived.

    If my voice reaches one person — that matters.
    If my story helps one person — that matters.
    If my presence reminds someone they’re not alone — that matters.

    Rebuilding, Slowly and Honestly

    I’m rebuilding myself — not based on who others want me to be — but on who I truly am.

    It’s lonely.
    It’s quiet.
    It’s uncomfortable.

    But it’s also peaceful.

    I no longer want to perform.
    I no longer want to seek permission.
    I no longer want to shrink.

    I want to live as myself.

    Authentic.
    Imperfect.
    Evolving.
    Learning.
    Healing.

    This journey isn’t linear.
    It’s messy.
    It’s emotional.
    It’s human.

    And that’s okay.

    A Promise to Myself

    I promise myself this:

    I will keep choosing me.
    I will keep believing.
    I will keep showing up.
    I will keep using my voice.
    I will keep healing out loud.
    I will keep becoming.

    Even when it’s slow.
    Even when it’s quiet.
    Even when it’s lonely.
    Even when it’s scary.

    Because the voice that matters most is mine.
    The love that matters most is mine.
    The belief that matters most is mine.

    Thank you for listening.
    Thank you for witnessing.
    Thank you for walking this journey with me.

    Let’s keep choosing authenticity.
    Let’s keep choosing healing.
    Let’s keep choosing courage.
    Let’s keep choosing ourselves. 🤍

    — Jasmine

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines: Episode 6 — Baguio Stay with Mama & An Honest Hotel Review

    Arrival in Baguio: Tired, Grateful, and Present

    Hi everyone. 🤍

    We arrived in Baguio City for a short one-night stay, completely exhausted after waking up at 4:00 AM. This trip wasn’t about luxury—it was about presence, rest, and time with my mom. We checked into Lafaayette Luxury Suites on Military Cut-Off Road, and the city air already felt different—cooler, quieter, calmer.

    There was a small city view from the room, the kind that feels cozy more than grand. The room had basics—safe, blankets, slippers, a minibar (very expensive, of course 😅), and a quiet atmosphere that felt conducive to sleep. Nothing dramatic. Nothing overwhelming. Just stillness.

    Sometimes that’s enough.

    Mother-Daughter Moments

    These trips are never just about the destination. They’re about the little things:

    – My mom exploring the room
    – Her commenting on everything
    – Laughing at her one-liners
    – Helping her unpack
    – Making sure she’s comfortable

    There’s a softness in traveling with your parent that hits differently as an adult. Less rush. More patience. More gratitude. More presence.

    We rested, planned dinner, and let our bodies recover.

    Morning in Baguio: Slow Breakfast, Quiet Joy

    The next morning felt gentle.

    Breakfast looked good—fried rice, veggies, chicken, frittata, danggit, soup, coffee. Simple Filipino comfort food. I enjoyed it because I’m Filipino. The flavors felt familiar, grounding, nostalgic.

    We talked about our plans:
    – Camp John Hay
    – Botanical Garden
    – Mines View Park
    – Just walking and exploring

    No rush. No pressure. Just being.

    Honest Review: Lafaayette Luxury Suites

    This is my honest review of Lafaayette Luxury Suites in Baguio City.

    I was genuinely excited for this stay.

    As an overseas Filipina worker visiting home—and someone who dreams of eventually retiring in the Philippines—I had high hopes. The hotel promised luxury, aesthetics, and an “Instagrammable” experience at a reasonable price.

    But honestly… I was disappointed.

    The rate was about $120 per night, and the experience didn’t match the price—especially compared to hotels I’ve stayed at in other Southeast Asian countries like Thailand and Vietnam.

    What Didn’t Sit Right

    1. The service felt transactional
    There was no warmth, no personal connection, no sense of hospitality. For a hotel branding itself as luxury, I expected basic human connection—simple things like:

    – “Is this your first time here?”
    – “Do you need recommendations?”
    – “How can we make your stay better?”

    None of that happened.

    2. The experience didn’t feel welcoming
    WiFi access was frustrating. We were told to scan a QR code, but connection wasn’t smooth.

    I was also asked twice if I was part of a conference group, which made me uncomfortable—especially since there were very few guests around.

    There was also a promised welcome drink that we never received.

    3. The towel incident
    The most uncomfortable moment was being charged an extra fee for “misuse” because face and hand towels were placed on the floor—something that was never communicated.

    I’ve never experienced this at any hotel before.

    Being told we could “just take the towels home” felt humiliating.

    It wasn’t about the money—it was about the treatment.

    4. Breakfast experience
    Breakfast was decent, but not comparable to experiences I’ve had in Thailand or Vietnam.

    When my mom asked for her omelette to be cooked a bit more, the response felt dismissive—almost as if we didn’t know what we were talking about.

    Bigger Reflections: Tourism, Infrastructure, and Reality

    This experience made me reflect on something deeper.

    I love the Philippines. I advocate for tourism here. I want to see it thrive.

    But the truth is:

    The quality-to-cost ratio often doesn’t match what you get in other Southeast Asian countries.

    In Thailand and Vietnam, I’ve stayed in beautiful hotels for $30–$50 that delivered true five-star service. In Baguio, I paid more and received less.

    Luxury isn’t just about aesthetics.

    It’s about:
    – Warmth
    – Hospitality
    – Service
    – Respect
    – Human connection

    Transportation, Access, and Inequality

    One thing I appreciate about the Philippines is public transportation efficiency—especially buses. Traveling to Baguio was smooth, frequent, and accessible.

    But I also recognize that this system is only accessible to me because I’m Filipino.

    I speak the language. I have family here. I understand the system.

    For foreigners, navigating public transport is extremely difficult.

    Google routes can turn a 4-hour drive into a 12-hour public transport journey due to inefficient routing systems and lack of clear information.

    This creates invisible barriers to tourism.

    The Hard Truth

    We can’t talk about tourism without talking about:
    – Infrastructure
    – Leadership
    – Corruption
    – Resource mismanagement

    Filipinos are resilient. We survive storms, floods, calamities, and crises.

    But resilience shouldn’t replace good governance.

    Money exists.
    Resources exist.
    OFWs send billions home.

    Yet systems don’t improve the way they should.

    And that affects tourism.

    It affects hospitality.
    It affects infrastructure.
    It affects perception.
    It affects experience.

    Final Thoughts

    This is not an attack.

    This is honesty.

    I love the Philippines.
    I believe in its beauty.
    I believe in its people.
    I believe in its potential.

    But we deserve better systems.
    Better service standards.
    Better infrastructure.
    Better leadership.
    Better hospitality culture.

    Because real luxury isn’t design.
    It’s dignity.
    It’s respect.
    It’s warmth.
    It’s how people are treated.

    Baguio is beautiful.
    Nature is healing.
    The land is rich.
    The people are resilient.

    And I still believe the Philippines can do better.

    This was my honest experience at Lafaayette Luxury Suites, Baguio City.

    Thank you for reading 🤍

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 5: Baguio Bound: Bus Rides, Burnham Park, and Learning to Choose Myself

    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.

    🤍

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 4: Slow Mornings, Self-Talk, and Learning to Love Myself

    Province Mornings & Childhood Comforts

    Good morning. Today is Wednesday, February 4th, 2026—and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous.

    We’re here in the Philippines, sitting outside, soaking in the cool morning air. I’m honestly surprised by the temperature this time of year. It’s comfortable, calm, and refreshing—so much so that I haven’t even needed the AC.

    This morning feels especially nostalgic. We’re outside with my mom, waiting for the familiar sounds of taho and pandesal vendors—simple things I grew up with, things that instantly bring me back home. This is province life at its finest: quiet, slow, and deeply grounding.

    Rest as Part of Healing

    Lately, I’ve been sleeping a lot—and for once, I’m letting myself enjoy it.

    I’ve been unwinding, catching up on rest, and adjusting to the jet lag without guilt. My body clearly needed this pause, and I’m learning to listen instead of pushing through exhaustion like I used to. Rest isn’t laziness. It’s care.

    The Power of Self-Talk

    Being in this quiet space has given me time to reflect—especially on my mental health.

    One thing I’m learning is how powerful self-talk truly is. The way I speak to myself can pull me into anxiety and sadness, but it can also be the very thing that brings me back out. I’m realizing that the same voice that once fueled my spirals can be reshaped into a voice of reassurance, grounding, and compassion.

    That shift doesn’t happen overnight—but it starts with awareness.

    I’m 37.
    I’m a Filipina Nurse Practitioner in the United States.
    I survived two manic depressive episodes.
    I lost friendships I thought would last forever.
    And now—I’m rebuilding myself with intention.

    Here’s what I’m learning about softness, self-love, and choosing myself:

    ✨ I’m learning that I don’t have to be hard on myself to grow. Softness isn’t weakness—it’s how I stay connected to who I am beneath the roles, expectations, and survival mode.

    ✨ I’m choosing to speak to myself with kindness. My inner voice no longer exists to punish or pressure me—it’s becoming the place I return to when things feel heavy, uncertain, or tender.

    ✨ I no longer use self-talk as the force that keeps me in darkness. I’m learning how to use it to soothe my nervous system, ground my thoughts, and gently guide myself forward.

    ✨ Choosing myself looks like slowing down without guilt. Resting without justification. Letting my body lead instead of overriding it in the name of productivity.

    ✨ I still love medicine deeply. And I’m learning that loving my work doesn’t mean abandoning myself for it. I’m allowed to be whole—not just capable, not just resilient.

    ✨ Confidence comes and goes—and that’s human. On the days it fades, I meet myself with compassion instead of criticism.

    ✨ I’ve stopped believing I need to earn rest or softness. Caring for myself isn’t a reward—it’s a requirement for staying well.

    ✨ Imposter syndrome still whispers sometimes. The difference now is my response is gentle: I belong here, even when I’m unsure.

    ✨ I’m choosing growth that feels aligned, not forced. Healing doesn’t have to be loud, dramatic, or rushed—it can be quiet and still life-changing.

    ✨ Exhaustion isn’t a flaw. It’s my body asking for care. And I’m finally answering without shame.

    ✨ Some moments still stay with me—patients, memories, relationships. Softness has taught me how to hold them without letting them harden me.

    ✨ I’m learning how to be driven without being cruel to myself. How to care deeply without self-abandonment.

    I’m sharing this not for sympathy, but as a reminder:
    ✨ Softness can be powerful.
    ✨ Choosing yourself is healing.

    None of this ever meant I was falling behind.
    ✨ It meant I was listening to myself.
    ✨ It meant I was learning to love myself.
    ✨ It meant I was choosing me.

    Thank you for being here 🤍
    For more, follow my journey through softness, self-love, healing, and becoming 👩🏻‍⚕️✨

    Rethinking Love

    I’ve also been thinking a lot about love.

    For so long, I looked for love outside of myself—hoping someone else could fill the gaps, understand me fully, or make me feel whole. And when that didn’t happen, it left me feeling empty and discouraged.

    But lately, something has changed.

    I’m noticing that love already exists around me—in quiet mornings, in family, in stillness. And more importantly, I’m learning that love exists within me. I’m learning to be comfortable with who I am and gentle with who I’m becoming.

    Rebuilding My Identity

    This trip truly feels like a healing journey.

    I’m intentionally taking things slow—sleeping in, watching shows that invite reflection, allowing silence instead of rushing to fill it. I’m giving myself permission to face my mental health head-on, instead of avoiding it or minimizing it.

    I’m realizing that parts of my identity were built around people who were once present in my life. And when those relationships changed or ended, I felt like I lost pieces of myself too.

    So now, I’m rebuilding.

    I’m learning who I am without external guidance, without validation, without depending on others to define me. I’m taking agency over my life—my healing, my future, my decisions. I’m learning how I process emotions, how I move forward, and how I talk myself through uncertainty instead of letting it consume me.

    Choosing Myself, Again and Again

    This is me choosing to pivot.
    Choosing growth.
    Choosing myself.

    I don’t need anyone else to tell me my worth—because I’m learning to see it on my own. My opinion of myself matters most. And when I truly believe that, everything else begins to align.

    That’s why I’m sharing this journey.
    That’s why I’m building this platform.

    To remind myself that I believed in me—and I’m making it happen.

    This isn’t narcissism.
    This is self-love.
    This is healing.

    I am enough.
    I am kind.
    I am becoming.

    Thank you for being here 🤍

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 3: Slow Mornings & Province Life

    February 3, 2026

    Good morning.

    Today is February 3rd, 2026 — and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, amazing, kind, humble, and everything in between.

    We’re officially on our second full day in the Philippines, and I’m writing this from my mom’s house in Pozorrubio, Pangasinan. Province life. Simple. Quiet. Peaceful. The kind of peace that doesn’t announce itself loudly — it just settles into your body and reminds you to breathe.

    Yesterday disappeared into sleep.

    And honestly? That was exactly what my body needed.

    When Jet Lag Becomes a Teacher

    After landing, having lunch, and unpacking just enough to feel human again, I slept — deeply, unapologetically, and without an alarm. Jet lag took over, and instead of fighting it, I surrendered.

    There was no guilt.
    No pressure to be productive.
    No inner voice telling me I was wasting time.

    For someone who has spent years moving fast, caring for others, checking patient lists, and running on adrenaline — allowing myself to sleep felt like its own form of healing.

    This journey isn’t asking me to do more.

    It’s asking me to slow down.

    A 4 AM Wake-Up and a Quiet House

    I woke up around 4:00 AM, my body still adjusting to time zones. Instead of scrolling or forcing myself back to sleep, I stayed still.

    The house was quiet.
    The air was cool.
    No air conditioner needed — a small but meaningful comfort.

    I walked into the kitchen half-awake, fully present, and started the morning the way province life invites you to:

    • Heating bottled water (a Philippines essential)
    • Making coffee slowly
    • Standing barefoot on cool floors
    • Letting the morning arrive without rushing it

    The room is a little messy.
    Things aren’t curated.
    Nothing is staged for aesthetics.

    And somehow, that makes it even more beautiful.

    Coffee, Conversations, and Being With My Mom

    My mom is here — still recovering from being sick, but noticeably better today. Last night, I made her cassentium tea with honey, and for the first time since arriving, I didn’t hear her coughing through the night.

    That quiet felt like relief.

    This trip is about being home — not just physically, but emotionally.

    We made coffee together using whatever cups were nearby. We talked about small things — carpets for the living room, plants for the garden, errands that can wait.

    Then I asked her something simple:

    “Mom, what advice would you give me about life?”

    She talked about perseverance. About sacrifice. About wanting so much when we first moved to the U.S. — and learning, over time, that contentment doesn’t come from having more, but from appreciating what you already have.

    Listening to her, I felt a deep wave of gratitude.

    She gave me so much — even when she didn’t have much to give.

    And now, being here with her feels like coming full circle.

    Living Simply, One Ordinary Moment at a Time

    Today isn’t about sightseeing or chasing experiences.

    It’s about settling into province life:

    • Walking through the garden
    • Thinking about what plants we might grow
    • Noticing what the house still needs
    • Installing Blink cameras
    • Organizing small corners of the home

    There’s something deeply grounding about doing ordinary things in the place you come from.

    No audience.
    No deadlines.
    No performance.

    Just presence.

    Travel Plans, Held Loosely

    We’ve talked gently about what’s next — maybe Bangkok, maybe Baguio, maybe a road trip once I have a car. I even brought a tent with me, just in case we decide to camp together.

    But nothing feels urgent.

    For the first time in a long time, I’m allowing plans to be flexible. Weather, energy, health — all of it matters more than sticking to an itinerary.

    If this journey is teaching me anything, it’s this:

    You don’t have to fill every day with plans for it to be meaningful.

    Rest Is Not Laziness — It’s Medicine

    I’ve been intentional about not opening my laptop, not obsessively checking emails, and not slipping back into the version of myself that’s always “on.” I did send a few collaboration emails — not out of pressure, but out of alignment.

    This doesn’t feel like work.

    It feels like honoring the life I’m building.

    Sharing honestly.
    Living slowly.
    Inspiring authenticity by practicing it first.

    Day Two Reflections

    Day two in the Philippines.

    Living simply.
    Resting deeply.
    Spending unhurried time with my mom.

    Recording memories — not just on camera, but in my body.

    And reminding myself that healing doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic.

    Sometimes, healing looks like:

    • Coffee in mismatched cups
    • Conversations that wander
    • Sitting outside without checking the time
    • Letting your nervous system finally exhale

    A quiet morning in Pangasinan.

    Birds outside.
    Coffee brewing.

    And the soft realization that this — right here — is enough.

    — Jasmine

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 2: On the Way

    February 2, 2026

    Hi everyone. Good morning.

    Today is February 2nd, 2026 — and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, beautiful, amazing, stunning, humble, and fully alive.

    Somewhere between time zones, I lost February 1st completely. That’s what long-haul travel does — it stretches time until days blur into one continuous moment of movement, waiting, and becoming. After a long flight from San Francisco, we landed in Taipei, Taiwan, now tucked into a layover that feels like a soft pause before the real journey continues.

    This trip feels different.

    Not rushed. Not performative. Not something I’m doing just to check a box.

    This trip is about healing, about presence, and most importantly — about quality time with my mom. Time that feels intentional. Time that feels sacred.

    A Pause Between Worlds

    We’re currently at the Oriental Club Lounge at Taipei Airport. It’s my first time using the Chase Sapphire Reserve Priority Pass, and honestly, it feels like a small luxury that allows me to breathe after twelve hours in the air.

    I’ve bounced between lounges during this layover — the Oriental Club Lounge, the Plaza Premium Lounge (on both sides of the airport), and even reminisced about the Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse back at SFO. Each one has its own personality.

    If I’m being honest:

    • The Premium Plaza Lounge wins for convenience and drinks-to-go.
    • The Oriental Club Lounge wins for comfort, warmth, and food that feels grounding.

    Right now, grounding is exactly what I need.

    Nourishment, Not Just Food

    I started with soup dumplings, corn, and mushrooms — because mushrooms are forever one of my favorite things in the world (right up there with eggplant). Comfort food in its purest form.

    Then came the star of Taipei:

    Beef noodle soup.

    This dish is what Taiwan is known for, and now I understand why. The broth has a gentle sweetness, balanced perfectly once I added chili sauce. I usually don’t love sweet-savory combinations, but this? This worked.

    The beef was tender, the noodles felt hand-pulled, and the mushrooms — my favorite part — soaked up all the flavor like they were meant to be there.

    Food during travel isn’t just fuel for me.

    It’s grounding.
    It’s culture.
    It’s comfort.
    It’s permission to enjoy.

    And yes, I’ve been eating non-stop since landing — but this trip isn’t about restriction. It’s about listening to what my body needs.

    Moving Slower, On Purpose

    Our flight was long — about twelve hours — and not particularly restful. I slept maybe four hours total. I already know that our first day in the Philippines will be about sleeping, resetting, and allowing our bodies to land fully.

    There’s no rush.

    This journey isn’t about productivity. It’s about presence.

    I find myself savoring moments that I might have rushed through before:

    • Sitting quietly with my food
    • Watching people pass by
    • Charging my phone while my nervous system recharges too
    • Calling my mom to coordinate airport pickup, hearing her voice anchor me back to why I’m here

    This is healing in its quiet form.

    On the Way Home

    Soon, we’ll board our flight to Clark, Angeles City — the final stretch before arriving in the Philippines.

    I can already feel the shift happening inside me.

    This isn’t just a trip.

    It’s a return.

    A return to roots.
    A return to softness.
    A return to the parts of myself that don’t need to perform, explain, or prove anything.

    I’m choosing rest.
    I’m choosing connection.
    I’m choosing my mom.

    And this is only the beginning.

    More soon.

    — Jasmine

  • Healing Journey in the Philippines — Episode 1: On the Way ✈️🇵🇭

    January 31, 2026

    Hi everyone. Good evening.

    Today is January 31st, 2026 — and it’s another beautiful day to be gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, amazing, kind, humble… and everything else. 💛

    Tonight, I’m flying to the Philippines.

    Our flight is at 11:30 PM.

    And by our, I mean me… and the camera. Because I’m inclusive like that.

    Right now, it’s almost 7:00 PM. Before heading to the airport, there was a very necessary stop at In‑N‑Out (because balance). Bags are packed, boxes are taped, and for the first time ever, I’m checking in an actual box. I waited. Hopefully, it’s accepted. If you know, you know.

    This is a solo trip — but not really. I’ll be meeting my mom in the Philippines, and that alone makes this journey deeply meaningful.

    A Journey That Feels Like Healing

    We went to the Philippines last year to see my mom’s house. We furnished it, made it livable, and turned it into something that finally felt like home. This time, part of the plan is to continue that — adding small touches, making it warmer, more intentional, more us.

    But this trip is more than furniture.

    It’s a healing journey.

    Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it would feel like to actually move to the Philippines. I had a conversation today with one of my closest friends, JR, about that possibility. What’s holding me back right now is practical — student loans, waiting on forgiveness — but this trip feels like a preview. A soft launch into a different kind of life.

    A slower one.

    A simpler one.

    One where I get to spend more time with my mom.

    Burnout, Boundaries, and Choosing Myself

    If I’m being honest, I’m tired.

    Not just airport tired — but soul tired.

    I think part of it is burnout. I’ve been working nonstop as a nurse practitioner, carrying the weight of other people’s lives, stories, and mental health struggles. I care deeply about my patients. I listen. I hold space. Sometimes, that means I run late — because people deserve to be heard.

    But holding space for others without holding space for yourself eventually catches up.

    This week, I realized something important: even as a provider, it’s okay not to have all the answers. It’s okay to say, “I’m not sure — let’s figure it out together.” And surprisingly, my patients appreciate that honesty. They see the care. They feel it.

    Still, the emotional weight adds up.

    And that’s why this trip feels perfectly timed.

    I need rest.

    I need healing.

    I need to practice what I tell my patients every day: prioritize yourself.

    Redefining Success

    As I sit in the lounge — tired, reflective, and waiting to board — I’m realizing how much has changed this past year.

    I survived a difficult environment.
    I lost friendships I thought were solid.
    I navigated disappointment, grief, and growth.

    And yet… here I am.

    Still standing.
    Still dreaming.
    Still choosing myself.

    Growing up, success looked like a stable career. Respectability. Achievement.

    And I did that.

    I became a nurse practitioner. I serve my patients. They trust me. They appreciate me.

    But I think I’m outgrowing that version of success.

    Now, success looks like this:

    • A simple life in the Philippines
    • Traveling with my mom
    • Showing her parts of the world that shaped me
    • Living minimally, intentionally, and authentically

    Thailand — especially Bangkok — holds a special place in my heart. It’s where I grew into the woman I am today. Soon, it will also be the first time I get to share that experience with my mom. And that feels full‑circle in the most beautiful way.

    Gratitude, Growth, and What’s Ahead

    Before boarding, I’m sitting with gratitude.

    I recently reached 1 million views on Instagram — a goal I once whispered quietly to myself. I hope that momentum continues to amplify what I care about most: inspiring authenticity, healing, and self‑worth.

    Lately, I’ve added two new affirmations to my daily mantra:

    Another beautiful day to be kind.

    Another beautiful day to be humble.

    Kind to myself.

    Humble in how I live.

    Grounded in simplicity.

    This is Episode 1 of my healing journey — on the way, somewhere between burnout and becoming, between departure gates and new beginnings.

    Thank you for being here.
    Thank you for joining me.

    See you on the other side of the flight.

    ✨