Through The Sting Of A Bee

Being a plain housewife seems like an easy job. You gotta clean the house, do the laundry, cook the meals, and pick up groceries. At night, you will take care of your husband, pamper him because he had a tiring day in the office and make him remember that he had to come back home the following day. Much like how a Stepford wife is.

I am not used to being home. Since I was in high school, I am used to staying out late. Not because I am doing nonsense things but because I made it a point to be active in many extracurricular activities. I have been singing, joining the student council, writing, and all sorts of religious activities. When I got my hand with work that earns a monthly compensation, I did my greatest in every day, exhausting all means to earn and deserve the next possible position for advancement. I get to do wondrous things, earn consistently well, and be respected by my colleagues. The time I have spent was irreplaceable but I know I cultivated my time for a good reason: to bring food on the table and make life a little better for my family. My character at home is different. I get lousy, opt to bring my family out whenever I have a chance, go to places and spend my time with my then fiance, now my husband. Life was so predictable that I sleep without talking to anyone. Get up after five hours, dress up and go to work again. My mom had to literally stop me from my own tracks so she could have a decent conversation with me and not just nods and shakes of my head. My mobile phone was my little piece of heaven that makes me updated with my friends and relatives. I do make it a point to be there during occasions because I know that is the only time I am spending with them.


When I decided to get married, I understood the meaning of family. How my mom could not let me go even after she walked down the aisle with me, how my late mother-in-law always longed for me and my husband to visit her and wish for us to just live with her, and how important my husband is to me. We have both decided to separate from our large families in order to establish our own, with minimal influence from other people. Our families have respected that, mind you, and we are very thankful to them for that. It was also because of this that I decided to let go of my job in the BPO industry, regardless of the huge opportunities waiting for me. I know my husband needs a wife and not just a boarder in the house. I know my husband needs a partner and not just another person doing the chores. I know my husband needs his bestfriend and not just an acquaintance with just a hi and goodbye pattern. I needed to let go of the things I am so used to doing, of the field that I know I excel so much in, of the money I am used to having. All for the love of family.

Now that it has been 2 full months that I do not have work, I still am undergoing a series of relapse. Don't get me wrong, I am still looking for work, but one that does not require night shifts and too much overtime. I am willing to work as a normal girl with a marriage to take care of. I am very much tempted to go back to my comfort zone but I know it won't do good to my marriage so I consider that my last priority. I want to do more but place my family first more than anything else.

I was stung by the power of money and career that, just like one who was bitten by a bee, my ego and personality changed before my eyes. Got bloated with pride and materialism. Had too much, too little in so many aspects. I learned that I am not just a person that can earn. I am a person who can love and stand by her convictions: to love and prioritize family.

Setting The Flame

It is not easy to be a writer. For some people, a mere expression of their heart with a pen with letters is already their license to be called a writer. If that was the only requirement to become one, then millions of people are in the bracket of the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Shakespeare, and J. K. Rowling.

The hard truth is: until your work is published, you are not a writer.

This is the reason why people go into blogging instead. To have an audience. To have a clamor for more (or sometimes the other way around). Your critics are your viewers, if any. Your fans are you avid viewers, just in case they are just waiting in silence.


I am a writer because my registration form in College said so. This is my first post as a blogger because my friends have been urging me to. And now, I finally give in.


Fireflies are my favorite creatures of nature. Their little bodies are considered bugs that are pests for some but they dare to be different at night and show off their self-earned light. It is still a mystery to me how they are able to do that but, just the same, the speck they give in the dark forest is but a sign of hope to those lost in the woods.

What can you expect? Socially, I am not a climber, nor am I an enthusiast for events. All I can give are my honest opinions and observations of how the world is in the social perspective. Sharing with you the best I can to maybe, just maybe, be that flicker of point of view you need to see for yourself.