I ran out of fucks to give

In a month and a half I’m turning 29, if you would have told me at 18 this was where I would be at this point I would have scoffed at the notion. But yeah… This is it!

I don’t think I’ve ever been one for conventional means, nor did I come from your stereotypical family life. My parents were divorced by the time I was 3 and had a very tumultuous relationship until a few years ago. I’ll never forget a story my mom told me proudly about her getting so enraged at my dad that she chased him down the street with a knife. Yep , what they say about Filipinos is true, we’re passionately insane. God bless mama for teaching me how to cut a bitch. Essentially my idea of a happy household was a day where fighting was at minimal, which wasn’t often. I knew from a young age that yeah…this is it!

In a way, my upbringing couldn’t have prepared me better for the real world. Adversity isn’t a select occurrence in real life it’s a NORM and working in entertainment will only harden that thought. Maybe I’m jaded at this point but every pain and struggle has made me the resilient broad I am today and I still feel like I have so much to learn about myself. I have so many friends in my age range who are married with kids, some multiple tots. I can’t knock their hustle. I often think when I’m trolling Instagram and see a pic of a friends child pop up while I’m simultaneously downing a vodka/soda, “damn, I could never be doing that right now, mad respect.” A piece of me has a deep envy of that beautiful simplicity, I wish I could have that sometimes, hell even want that…but with my age creeping in on 30 I realize that a life like that is for me, just not now. What most people don’t know is that could have been me, believe it or not I was practically married at one point. One mistake away from a different fate. Looking back over 4 years after I walked away, it still was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

Finding yourself, takes time. Building a career, takes time. Being an emotional mess and sorting intent, requires time. Time, that if you are dedicated to a family and partner cannot happen properly. I see this scenario all too often in other people I know – they marry at 23 before they have had a chance to even discover life as an adult, dive deep into responsibility and commitment then hit their late 20s/ early 30s and realize that they are a completely different person. Divorce and post quarter life crisis typically ensues.

A friend recently got me hip to the 7 year principle – every 7 years you change as a person, biologically, emotionally and mentally. Makes incredible sense when I gauge my standpoint at 14, 21 and now 28. Change is frightening but glorious in its metamorphosis, it’s one of the only certainties in life. You either adapt or be consumed by it. As things move along in life I’ve become less frightened by it, it’s both a comfort and a sad feeling. I care SO much less about the little things and see though insecurities, vain bullshit and the rotten intentions of others. Knowing someone else is an asshole filled to the brim with shit is most of the time, all the assurance I need to walk away with piece of mind and a smile.

Bring it on 29, I have ran out of fucks to give 🙂

PS: Happy 29th Birthday to one of my oldest friends, Andria Lopez too! ❤

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