Seeing Strength Up Close

I have been a quiet follower of Kulas/BecomingFilipino. Over the years, I've watched his vlogs and read his long posts. The way he told his stories, his curiosity and perspective, and how he seems more Filipino than I ever could be have kept me following him for more than a decade.

I would say I am a fan.

So imagine my excitement when Jan dropped me off at the SM Lanang parking area, and I spotted Kulas coming from the opposite direction, walking to the very same place I was heading. But rather than going toward him like any fangirl would do, I turned around, ran back to the car, and shrieked at Jan, “Naa si Kulas ug Kumander Daot!”

Yes, my husband is very much a follower too.

I found out we were invited to the same event. Meeting Kulas in person was easy and warm. We talked about creating content, about writing, about our love for our chosen craft, about the strange pressure and privilege of putting pieces of yourself into the world over and over again.

He's incredibly friendly. There was no ego in the conversation. There was no gap between a "popular vlogger" and a "mere follower". There was just a circle of people talking about the work they love. He was so energetic, engaged, and generous with this thoughts. 

And then, two days later, I read his post. One of the saddest posts I've ever read.

Suddenly, that memory of meeting him carried a deeper weight. Because when we spoke, there was no sign he was already carrying something unimaginably painful. If anything, he was vibrant, focused, and professional to the core. 

I admired him even more.

It’s easy to be inspiring when things are going well. It’s much harder when you’re grieving. Showing up anyway, honoring commitments, giving people your full attention while your heart is breaking takes a quiet kind of strength most people never see. I don’t know what it took for him to do that. I can only imagine.

This is to say how little we really know about what people are going through. That we never really know what people are carrying behind every post. The people we admire on screen are also human beings moving through joy, loss, hope, and devastation just like everyone else. Sometimes all at once.

I admired Kulas before for the stories he told through BecomingFilipino.

I admire him now for the strength behind the scenes.

I am grateful I got to meet someone whose work shaped part of how I see my country beautifully despite the shithole we are in. And grateful now for the reminder his story brings. Empathy matters, kindness matters, and strength doesn’t always look the way we expect it to.

To him and his wife, Therine, I hold nothing but support and prayers.

This has left me wanting to move through the world a little more gently, with more patience, more empathy, and more respect for what people might be carrying inside.