I’d always like to think and believe that I could be somebody, really SOMEBODY. All my life, I’ve been made to believe that I am exceptional: intelligent, talented, and unique. I know that the last word is true, but there is a more appropriate word, and that is WEIRD. When I was younger, my family showered me with praises. I always get to be on top of things. I can sing, I can dance; I can talk better than most kids my age. I started reading and writing when I was only three. I entered first grade at the age of five. And still, I excelled over my classmates much older than I am. That continued for a few more years, until high school. And like a typical nerd / geek, I was never that popular. Well, up until a teacher found out I have more than my brains to work for me. I sang in a few school programs. I wrote in a few editions of our student paper. I crossed new boundaries, and the teachers who liked me actually broke a few rules for me. I became the Literary Editor in my junior year, which was not really acceptable because seniors only held that position. But I guess, they believed I could make it work. And work it did. I broke the boundaries of geekhood and actually excelled in something else. My name even got recognized. Then came the “Great Depression”. I call it great because it is great. I’ve always had insecurities as far as I can remember. And I know I’ve always wanted to kill myself since I was only 10. But when I turned 14, my senior year, everything just came falling apart. My grades were all right. They were on their all time high. But what fell apart were probably the more important parts of me. I lost my confidence, even my resolve. Everyday just became blurry. I found no sense in how and where my life is leading. Add that to the fact of my fear that my parents were joining some kind of cult. I felt like I was blind. Every negative word was directed to me. Paranoia, fear, indecision, and doubts: all about myself. It was rather a selfish period. But I was young in so many ways, even though people around me think otherwise. I just wanted to die that time. I felt so alone and unimportant. I wanted my story to be melodramatic. I want to read it and say to myself: “how touching!” I wanted to describe everything I felt in that moment when I got out of the dark hole I was in that time. But I’m not that good with words. I’ll just end up doing injustice to all the good things that happened. So I would just sacrifice the part where this story would be inspirational. That time of “Great Depression” ended one afternoon. I went with my parents’ to their new congregation. It was the first anniversary of their locale and they’re preparing for a Thanksgiving. I had no idea what that was. I was so bored. I attended a couple of their gatherings before this I never really liked anything. The whole experience was so weird for me. But trying to make up for being an inconsiderate daughter for the past months, I complied. I can’t remember that precise moment or time when the change in me occurred. I was just sitting there, on the second row near the aisle, watching them dance and sing with an almost familiar melody:

“Di baling kami’y walang pera

basta’t mayro’n lang sanang gitara

Gutom nami’y idadaan sa pagkanta

Hanggang kalangita’y magkakasama”

“Ang aming ligaya ay pagluwalhati

Tinig naming ay munting bahagi

Hanggang sa pagtanda, hanggang buhok ay pumuti

Kami ay aawit ng may ngiti”

I almost bawled like a baby, I didn’t know why. I kept my refuge and told myself how I get easily emotional when hearing music that I like. But inside my heart of hearts, I know right then that I want to be one of them. I want to sing, to laugh, to rejoice, to say that I won’t be affected by hunger, by thirst, by anything else in life, as long as I am there, as long as I am part of that; whatever that is.

Thus, the end of the “Great Depression” and shortly thereafter, was the New Beginning of my life. I was so dead inside, all broken up and beyond repair. But I guess what hope and faith does is to resuscitate us from that hanging condition between death and life. I was born again on February 8, 2002 in a calm afternoon. Those hours I was being repaired completely were still a blur to me. But I don’t really care. I don’t care if I remember the exact words I said, the faces I met, who like mine, are full of hope. I can’t describe if it was windy or rainy or even sunny. I can’t remember everything, but I do. I remember how free I felt, that up until now I want to reminisce. I remember how I looked at everything anew. I remember how everything felt so wonderful.

It’s been more than five years since then. I’ve had my highs and lows. I flunked a couple of math subjects in college. I’ve been depressed every so often. I’ve been disappointed a whole lot after leaving high school. But I can say proudly that I am still standing.

(Jer 9:23) Ganito ang sabi ng Panginoon, Huwag magmapuri ang pantas sa kaniyang karunungan, o magmapuri man ang makapangyarihan sa kaniyang kapangyarihan, huwag magmapuri ang mayaman sa kaniyang kayamanan.

(Jer 9:24) Kundi magmapuri sa ganito ang lumuluwalhati, na kaniyang nauunawa, at kaniyang nakikilala ako, na ako ang Panginoon na nagsasagawa sa lupa ng kagandahang-loob, kahatulan at katuwiran; sapagka’t sa mga bagay na ito ay nalulugod ako, sabi ng Panginoon.

I am hanging on. I am trying my hardest to face all the frustrations my life so far, has given me. I still doubt myself a lot of times, but hope remains. So does faith. And even more so, Love, which I pray will never ever grow cold.

I commonly don’t know how to end my compositions in phenomenal ways. I’d like to end with the statement: Now, I know I’m nobody yet I’m somebody. I’m nobody without HIM who saved me from a wreck that was my life, yet I’m somebody, though not astoundingly so, because of the hope HE gave me. But you have probably expected that. So I’ll just be content in saying: I will never be content as long as I am here in a world that I never loved or cared about. So sometimes, I know, I will still whine. Sometimes, I know, I’d still get depressed. I know that I will still get angry, and I’d definitely feel injustice. But what remains constant in me is the hope that all of these HE will take away at that moment when I would finally be SOMEBODY worthy in HIS eyes.