Dear future self,

2020 was not like anything we planned. Neither is 2021. By the time you read this, you're probably in your bikini somewhere in the tropics or maybe halfway around the world whining about the despicable freezing weather.

Oh, how I miss traveling! It’s petty, really, to miss traveling when an unseen killer is on the loose. But that was my favorite and biggest form of distraction when things go crazy back then. And *deep breath* things are crazier the past sixteen months. I would have wished to trade places with you, but with the vaccines rolling out,  I can feel the end of this pandemic is already beginning and I don't want to miss it.

I know you can't wait to hear about everything that is happening. Well, let's start with something that is less shocking: I shaved my head. It rocks! And I love it—only if people weren't trying to pet me all the time. Kidding aside, what I am about to tell you is not going to be the most tear-jerking story you will hear. Not even close. But I promise you, it will be worth your time.

My armpits, although not perfect, is something I was not insecure about. I used to have fair armpits. It was not exactly flawless but it was enough for me to raise my arms confidently, until this pregnancy. I knew this is normal.

But I also knew that having dark, unsightly underarms is always unwelcomed, heavily criticized and, who knows, is close to becoming a taboo.

When I took this selfie, I realized how bad my armpits have become (I swear these look worse up close). I was about to delete this and give myself another round of self-disgust when the little one gave me the strongest kick I have ever felt. I was reminded that this is happening because I am carrying a life inside me. But more than that, I was reminded that I am human. Never perfect and always flawed.

Following our marriage last year, we have fervently prayed for a baby because, I hate to admit it, we are already in our mid-30s. We cannot deny the fact that our bio clocks are ticking. Jan and I have always wanted our own. The sooner, the better. And it was December last year when our prayers were answered. I knew 2020 is going to be our year.

Took this shot a few weeks before the COVID-19 outbreak.

Fast forward to 4,357 days (or at least, that's how it feels), the world has turned into something I thought I would only see in movies where we deal with constant anxiety and fear. How is it different for me? Everything is magnified a thousand times because I am carrying a precious life inside me. Apparently, 2020 is not a good time to be pregnant.

"What do you look for in a man?" one friend asked.

"Syempre yung kaya akong buhayin," said another.

Bigla akong napaisip. When Jan and I were still dating, it never occurred to me that one day I'll be marrying him because he can provide well for me. I CAN DO THAT ON MY OWN. I still remember those days when he only had one pair of shoes he used for work, beach, sports, and practically everywhere. It had been dying on him but he held on to it because he couldn't afford a new one. When it comes to dates, he is not galante. So I always insist 50-50 when we eat out, watch movies, or basically anything we would do together. I wouldn't say he's in such a bad, poverty-stricken state but certainly, he isn't well-off. And if I take a look back at the Jan Carlo I knew 6 years ago, hindi nya ako kayang buhayin.

For more than a decade, I was okay with having jobs that can provide our needs, pay the bills, and splurge a bit. I have never been in debt. And that's pretty much an achievement, especially for a then single mom like me.

BUT THAT WAS IT.

You know how I still get "judged" for being skinny despite my reputation of being a voracious eater and having a flabby midsection (that's about 2 inches of pinchable flab, I kid you not).

"Kain ka ng marami. Mas maganda kung magkalaman ka ng konti."

No high waisted pants can hide my flabs.

Not that I take offense at such. But I'm sick of explaining that I don't go on a diet or that it runs in the blood, yadda yadda. So before anyone strikes me again with remarks about being underfed, malnourished, and that I should go get a quarter pounder, let me tell you this: I would eat the next person who will tell me that I look better with more meat.

I dare thee.

I MADE THE SWITCH.

I am now trying to live a plastic free life. I know it won't be drastic because plastic has been practically in every part of our lives (some even disguise themselves as friends). It won't be easy to ditch plastic completely but we'll get there. Baby steps, they call it.

I'm into DIY and reycling, so that's a start. I also started refusing plastic bags from mini grocers if I can carry the products with my hand or inside my bag. I also use my own reusable eco bag for large groceries. I am having my caffeine fix in my own tumbler (and by caffeine, I mean milk teas with only 0-25% sugar). And now, I use reusable straws.

And down to the turtle's throat.

I remember the time when I attended one of my close friends' wedding, I was asked to hold one of the dozen balloons that was to be released into the sky. I shook my head frantically and blurted with some diffidence, "Dili ko. Environmentalist ko." (I won't. I'm an environmentalist)

A friend gave me a perplexed look as he walked away holding the balloon after being forced to volunteer.

Honestly, I still think Valentines is overrated.

But I never quite understood the bitterness of some people when it comes to this day. Seriously, guys? If you are looking for a day to hate, go hate those days that come after the Christmas and New Year holidays. Because that's the only time of the year you feel guilty and you go rushing to drop all that weight you gained from all those lechons and daily lechon paksiws, just so you could still fit in your pants because you can't afford to buy a bigger pair because you got broke from all that Christmas shopping (long badly written sentence right there). And also, all you do is whine about that bulging belly and never really do something about it. #BalikAlindogAngHashtagForever