happiness – Page 2 – kate samaniego

How do I become perfect?

Let me tell you a story about a girl who hates seeing herself in the mirror.

What I saw In the Mirror

I wasn’t always a fat kid. It was just when I turned second grade that I started getting fat. I was getting bigger and bigger until I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I looked at the mirror and at a young age I felt like there was always something wrong with my face and with how I look.

I would often play with Barbie dolls and would just be in an imaginary world where I am as beautiful as Barbie. But Barbie doesn’t have a huge mole on her face and she was skinny and she has a Ken. I will never look like Barbie so I thought I’d just collect them and imagine myself being them.

I was also very fond of television. Almost all lead actresses were skinny girls. Whenever there was a fat girl, she gets told that she was a pig or that her parents left her all alone in the kitchen that’s why she got so fat. And in the end, she’ll transform into a gorgeus skinny woman.

If you grew up in the Philippines, you’d just be surprised by how so many people just see you for the way you look. My extended relatives often tell me that my nose was flat or I was fat. Nobody told me that I was beautiful. I never felt beautiful. I never felt enough. The media, my aunts and uncles, and almost everyone around me has this standard of a beautiful girl and if you don’t fit in that standard, you’re ugly or ordinary.

I did not continue to hone my passion in dancing because I thought nobody can lift me because I was so heavy. Clothes don’t look good on me. No one would want to be my partner. I was ugly. Every time I look at the mirror I call the girl in the reflection: fat, ugly, fat, ugly. I hated pictures because I didn’t like what I saw. I stopped smiling at any camera because I thought even if I smile, it won’t change a thing, I would still be fat and ugly.

These insecurities crippled me in terms of my self-confidence. I was looking for acceptance and validation. I was waiting for someone to tell me that I am beautiful. But that day didn’t come until I was 21 years old. So, for 21 years, I saw myself as an ugly person.

How I dealt with it

Since I couldn’t be noticed for the way I look, I tried anything that would make people notice me. It was in second grade when my teachers started to notice that I was a smart kid. My English teacher would let us read short stories and then she had a graded recitation after. The questions were basic, what, where, when, I can easily answer those. But for the why questions, no one in the class could think or articulate the answer. But, I can! So I bravely raised my hand and answered her why question in straight English. My teacher saw something in me that day. After that, I was motivated to go to school. My second grade teacher saw my potential. She included me in the “damath” practice. She made me practice declamation pieces. It was just a blast. She would hug me and I think I was her favorite student that time. Finally, there’s a place that accepts me, school. As long as I do great, people would love me. This included my parents and my teachers.

School became an escape, a way to cover the imperfections. I finally was shining because I was good at something. I excelled to be noticed and loved.

Excellence and Perfection

Growing up as an achiever is like a double-edged sword. Yes, I get the attention. But, little did everyone know that I was being hard on myself. I started seeing being ‘the best’ as my identity. If I join a math competition and I don’t win, I’d be so depressed. I just wanted to win, I wanted to be the best. I kept on comparing myself with my classmates. It was hard for me to accept that no matter how much I work hard, there will be people who will be better than me in all aspects. Sometimes I don’t sleep just to prepare for an exam, but still another person would beat my score and I’d still be disappointed with myself.

To put it bluntly, I mistook excellence for perfection. It thought they were the same thing. For every result that I get, there’s no joy when I realize that I wasn’t perfect. I remember being obsessed with my study table. It has to be clean or I won’t study. Everything should be perfect or else things would turn out bad. I was beating myself up so bad. I got obsessed with being perfect to the point of depression. I would hide in my apartment for a couple of days just because I failed an exam in chemistry. I got in the top university in the Philippines so I thought I could be the best there too.

All that mentality was wrong. It took a lot of failures and disappointments for me to realize that I cannot ever be perfect. As long as I was doing my best, that was enough. Trying to be perfect stole the joy in learning. I really was hard on myself all this time. Instead of trying to be the best, I focused on having the best time in university, being happy.

Acceptance

I cannot be perfect. I will never be a beautiful girl based on media standards. It’s always the skinny girl with perfect skin and pointed nose who gets to be called beautiful. That’s not me and that will never be me. I am Kate, a 5’2″, pear-shaped woman, with a flat nose, a wide forehead, and a mole on the right side of her nose. My hips are wider than most girls and I weigh more than the girls you see in magazines and TV.

But, I began to love how I look. I would often take selfies and would even get to be in photo shoots of my organization and direct their poses. Take it from the girl who used to hate the camera. I became quite good in enhancing other women’s beauty by giving them a makeover. I love fashion and clothes and reflecting my personality through what I’m wearing. I eat good food and I feel so healthy even if I am a plus-size girl.

I graduated in my dream University and I’m now living abroad and exploring the world. I accepted who I am. Sometimes I look in the mirror and see a fat girl, but, there’s this new woman inside me that tells that old Kate to stop. Destructive thoughts are now being blocked by the new me.

This is for You

This is the meaning of perfection in a dictionary.

Perfection is the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.
Perfection is something that cannot be improved.

Oops. Do you want that? Do you want to be a person that doesn’t improve?

Now that I’ve shared my perfection obsession story, I want you to do these things whenever you feel like you have the dire need to be perfect or when you’re disappointed with yourself.

Look for role models.

Even if the media is portraying all these beautiful women (skinny, tall, and has a perfect skin) should be how we look like, let me tell you something: how you look is totally fine.

Stop trying to look like a Kendall Jenner or Gigi Hadid. Start trying to be the true you. The perfectly imperfect amazing heck of a woman you. For me, I look up at admirable women such as Oprah Winfrey and Maya Angelou. I am more concerned with what women do than how they look like. I think beauty without depth is useless. Look up to women who are doing something great in this world.

2. Be a role model.

Inspire other girls to accept who they are. As John Legend says, “Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections.” Spread the body acceptance movement and tell other people that it’s okay, to make mistakes, to lose, and to fail. Be that person who embraces all your imperfections and tell the world, hey it’s me. If you don’t like how I look or who I am then screw you. You are here to inspire, to spread positivity and acceptance. You are not meant to criticize, you are meant to be the cheer leader of others who are fighting their own battles.

3. You are enough.

Whatever you are right now, that is enough. Wherever you are in your career, right at this moment, that is enough. Take baby steps but please, do the world a favor, stop being hard on yourself. Celebrate your victories. Cry for a while when you lose and then get back up. Whatever you did, that was enough. You are enough.

4. Stop expecting perfection.

When you finally accept how flawed you are and be okay with it, you will also be okay with other people’s imperfections. You will see them for who they are and not for who you expect them to be. You will also learn to love them.

5. You are not meant to be perfect. You are meant to be whole – Jane Fonda

You are meant to be a whole person. How do you do that? By accepting what is, and not focusing on what it’s supposed to be.

Accepting imperfection takes a lot of practice. But, when you master it, oh what a breath of fresh air comes. It’s like a big rock is lifted off your chest. It’s like having a new pair of eyeglasses, finally seeing the world the way it is and being okay with it. I hope you’re happy with who you are, but if you’re not, continue working on it. Remember that each one of us is a work in progress.

To the person reading this, to me, you are enough. You may not be perfect, but your imperfections make this world more interesting. Thank you for being you.

We don’t need much to be happy

There are three people who make me smile every day when I see them. They are not my friends, and I don’t actually know them. I bump into them at work, at home, and in market, but they don’t have a clue of how valuable their presence is. They just taught me a lot and they don’t know anything about it.

Our School Cleaner

Every day, I would see our school cleaner doing her job. She’s mopping floors and scrubbing here and there. We would greet each other when she comes to our office and when I see her I just see a woman who’s very happy in her job. She would have this big smile every day. Sometimes I wonder how she can smile when her task of making everything clean, for me, is so hard. But every single day, she would say good morning and make the surroundings sparkly. She cleans well. The previous cleaner in our building was a sad lady. But our current cleaner? She is a wonderful person to see very day. She does her job well, and she is happy.

The Egg Vendor

On Mondays, I pass by a woman selling different kinds of eggs. She can speak a little bit of English and whenever I buy eggs from her, she smiles in joy. One time, my money was one thousand and she doesn’t have change for it so she ran somewhere to get the change. In my previous experiences, vendors would often get angry when you give them a large cash and they don’t have change. But with this lady, she was even smiling as she was running to look for change. Every week, I would buy from her just because her happiness is viral. She even gives me one extra egg because I’m a loyal customer. She radiates.

Our Condo’s Security Guard

We have three security guards in rotation in our place. Our favorite guard is the one who always smiles and opens the door when we’re taking a long time to get the key card. He is happy every time we see him. My roommates and I would sometimes give him food because he is just such a nice person. I never see him sleep while on duty and I don’t know there’s just something about him that’s extra shiny.

So what’s the lesson I’ve learned from them?

We don’t need much to be happy.

Happiness is a choice. As long as we do everything with love, we can be happy. I used to think that I’ll be happy if I am rich, if I have nice clothes and a lot of money. Well, if you have a lot of material stuff, it will definitely make you more comfortable in this world. But comfort is not always associated with happiness. You may have everything you want, but still be miserable.

I saw in those three wonderful people that happiness is a decision. Don’t get me wrong, this doesn’t mean that you should be complacent and be okay with less. What I’m trying to say is, yes, you should work for what you want, but you can be happy along the way. If we’re too serious and too stressed just so we can make tons of money, it will backfire on us. It can be through a disease or through personal relationships being sacrificed.

We only get one shot in life. After this life, there’s none. So why do we have to spend it being unhappy, selfish, and miserable? If there’s one thing we should focus on, I think it should be figuring out how to make our self and the people around us more happy. How do we fight misery, sadness, and even violence? We can do this by creating a happy space. The first step is internal happiness. Start within and radiate. Try it, and you’ll see.

Writing is Freedom

It was a rainy afternoon. I just finished the qualifying exam for a mathematics training. My neck was aching from the brain draining test. I hope I would pass. But still, I wasn’t tired. I was even looking forward to that day because I’ll get to visit my favorite store in the mall, National Bookstore. We live far from the city so it’s not that accessible to us. It is the haven for all the stuff I’m obsessed with. You see, I am the notebook, diary, planner, and pens type of girl. Many of my classmates love to go to Penshoppe or Bench, but I was more on the nerdy side. I loved the feeling of being surrounded by books, pens, and paper.

Writing has played a lot of roles in my life. For me, it is my kind of art. You see, I’m not a visually creative person. I can’t sketch or draw. I don’t have a way with colors and imagining things in 3D has been a weakness ever since. But writing? I don’t know how with just grabbing a pen and paper and using the vocabulary inside your head, can you have such a cathartic feeling. It’s like when I write, I feel that a little bit of me is relieved. It’s as if the stress goes away with every word that I pour on my laptop or on a piece of paper. When I write, my mind gets more organized. Suddenly, it’s more calm and simple.

The Day that Writing became my Best Friend

In my sophomore year in high school, my English teacher asked us to have a journal. Every day, we write on it about how our day went. Our student teacher checked it regularly and I guess my entry was quite different than my classmates’. It wasn’t a happy diary. That time, there was so much rage inside me, so many whys, it was just what I needed. I had to tell someone or something about what I was feeling. I was being bullied and at the same time my parents were always fighting. I couldn’t pretend that everything was okay, so I decided to write it on that diary. I can still remember the color of the notebook I used. It was a green Cattleya notebook with glitters and flowers on the cover. My student teacher didn’t like what I was writing, maybe that’s why I got a low grade, but you know what? I didn’t care. Writing on it made me feel better. I didn’t write to impress anyone. I wrote for me. That’s when I knew that writing will always be a part of my life, a hobby, an art, and my best friend.

Writing Gave me Confidence

As I’ve mentioned, I don’t write creatively. In fact, when I write, it’s just expressing what I think using simple words. My grade school writing coach made me write editorials, which I really hated. At that time I just didn’t like it. I felt like it was so forced out of me. In high school, I tried to write news and feature but still, my writing coach made me write editorials. However, when I’m chosen to write for science and math essay contests, I remember how I loved it. It was like exploring a different world. It was analyzing the current facts and trying to communicate your thoughts about something you love. Those were the moments that I felt like this is what I want to write about. I could say that, hey, I can write. I became more confident that when I was writing about subjects that I love, even the weirdest ones, I’d be like a free person. I knew at those times, that I loved writing.

Writing as a Medicine

When problems arise and your heart feels like it’s going to burst, grab a pen and paper, and write it out. Even if the message cannot be sent to that person, embedding your feelings to something permanent will help you feel that release. I remembered when I fell in love with a boy one time and I just couldn’t say it to him personally so I got my journal and wrote everything that I wanted to tell him. Well, I didn’t give the letter cause that would be too embarrassing (good decision though). When my heart got broken, I wrote there every day until I realized that I was okay again. I got tired of writing about him and just had enough. It was like I transferred all my heartaches to that journal, and so I was left with less heartache until it was totally gone. No more what ifs or whys, it was just me, moving on. I felt the hurt and writing helped me get through that. Psychiatrists advise patients to have a journal. In my experience, it’s true. Writing makes you aware of your thoughts. When you read that entry over and over again you’ll have an aha moment. You can recognize what you should change or how you can respond to a situation.

Writing as a Pensieve

If you’re a Harry Potter fan, you might be familiar with the Pensieve. It’s where wizards would store memories so that they can revisit those anytime. I think having a journal or a blog is just like owning a pensieve. You can revisit the memories. I’ve owned a diary since fourth grade and when I want a good laugh, I read it. You can also see how far you’ve went in life. You’ve grown up. Your concerns are different from the ten year old you. And, isn’t that amazing? Sometimes we feel as if nothing’s happening or there’s no progress at all but if you look back, you’ll see how different you are and how many obstacles you’ve gone through. Being able to read your past thoughts will let you have a sense of accomplishment. Or maybe, you’ll realize that things don’t have to be complicated because at the end of the day, everything works out after all. Time traveling is possible when you write.

Writing is Freedom

Remember that moment when you were running on a lawn or sitting on swing or playing seesaw? That is how free you can be with words. Words are so powerful that it wakes up something inside you. I think as human beings, we are so lucky to have this way with words. We are just privileged with the capacity to express our ideas and emotions. We are free. Happiness, I think, has a lot to do with freedom. When you are feeling dangerously free, that’s when you’re happy. When you’re not afraid to express yourself, then what could possibly go wrong? Writing gives me that feeling. Whatever gives you that, keep on doing it.

DIY Pattaya Escape

Thailand is said to be one of the best travel destinations in the world. It is home to relaxing beaches and a very unique culture. I’ll explain sometime why I find Thai culture as weird and amazing at the same time. Since I named this blog as ‘epistleofadventures,’ let me share our Pattaya City adventure.

First off, I am a budget traveler, I go to the cheapest place ever because I am more invested in spending for adventures than luxurious accommodation or fancy food.

How did we manage going to Pattaya, the Sin City of Asia with a budget of 1000 baht?

PLAN

If you’re a budget traveler, it would be good to plan your trip ahead so that you won’t spend too much. We were a group of five and so expenses were divided, and that helped a lot. We searched for the cheapest means of transportation, how to save on food, and places we can go to and all those other stuff.

2. PACK YOUR FOOD

A day before our trip, we went to the grocery, pitched in 150 baht each and cooked. We don’t speak Thai so it’s hard to look for a restaurant that’s cheap and yummy. Believe me, some food here, looks so appetizing on the menu, and when you taste it, you might be surprised, it’s usually too spicy or has a lot of herbs. If your taste buds are not accustomed to Thai food, better yet, bring your own food. We cooked all time Filipino favorites ‘lumpiang shanghai’ and ‘adobo.’ We also made egg sandwiches and brought our own 1.5 liters of water. Just a reminder Thailand is a tropical country so you can’t just leave the house without water.

Here’s our itinerary:

We left Bangkok at 5:30 AM via taxi from our condo to the van terminal. The van left at around 6:30 AM. It cost us around 200 baht. You can also go to the bus terminal in Ekkamai to go to Pattaya. I think that’s a better option. It was an almost 3-hour trip from Bangkok cause the van kept on switching passengers with other vans. Finally, we got to our destination, at Pattaya Pier.

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From Pattaya Pier, we went to our first destination, the Buddha Mountain. You can ride a blue songthaew or what they refer to as a taxi in the area. One trip to Buddha Mountain is worth 500 baht.

BUDDHA MOUNTAIN

The Buddha Mountain is located in Khao Cheejan, it’s about 30 minutes from the pier. It’s an amazing thing to see. I can’t even imagine how they were able to carve the Buddha image there.

It was created in 1996 to celebrate the 50th anniversary of King Bhumibol Adulyadej’s accession in the throne. The Buddha image was carved out of the cliff using laser technology. It is 130 meters high and 70 meters wide, hence it’s one of the biggest Buddha images in the world. (https://www.renown-travel.com/daytripspattaya/buddhamountain.html)

Tip for travelers: bring shades and a hat. Wear sunscreen too.

SILVERLAKE VINEYARD

If you want some Europe feels in Pattaya, you can head off to Silverlake Vineyard. We were able to negotiate with the driver, so for 600 baht, he took us to Silverlake. The 600 includes our return trip to Jomtien beach.

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Silverlake was a breath of fresh air. It’s a relaxing place and has a magnificent view. The plantations and tiny houses plus the flowers were so beautiful. It has a coffee shop where you can buy their products. My friend bought a blueberry jam, which according to them tasted so good.

They also have available vineyard tours with wine tasting. There were two kinds of tours. We were actually in a hurry so we decided not to take the tour. It was a huge place so if you have the time, you can take the tour. The front gardens, fountains, and statues were enough to make us happy. On our way to Jomtien, we stopped at a new place, Upsidedown Pattaya. It was still in construction but I bet this place is gonna be packed when it opens. received_1182448875118912 ACCOMODATION

There are a lot of hotels along the Jomtien Beach. We got the backpacker dormitory for 300 baht. It was a nice place. Since there’s five of us, it was just like we rented the entire room. There are three double decks, a common dining area, and kitchen. Everything was there. We just heated our food in the microwave and we were all set.

JOMTIEN BEACH

After getting a few hours of sleep, we went to the beach, rented a reclining chair and just relaxed. It was a very sunny afternoon, perfect for listening to good music and lying down.

The beach is good for walking and eating food. It’s perfect for a quiet afternoon while watching the sunset. However, it’s not a good place to swim. I’m from the Philippines, so when I say beach, what I imagine is a very breathtaking view. Sad to say, you can only enjoy Jomtien Beach if you will go on banana boat, or go kayaking. Swimming is a no no. There were so many dead fish and jellyfish that I almost cried. I soaked in the water for less than five minutes and decided that it was not worth it.

WALKING STREET

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Well, well, this was the highlight of our trip. The walking street is famous in the whole world for its peculiar night life. I’ve read somewhere that you can’t go to Pattaya and not experience being in the Walking Street. The songthaew from Jomtien to Pattaya is 10 baht. We left at nine pm and when we were there I was in state of shock.

I haven’t even imagined that places like that exists. I won’t bore you with the boring details. What I can just say is, the stories are true. We went to a bar, ordered a few beers, and danced our hearts out. At 1 AM, we rode a songthaew to Jomtien.

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That was our Pattaya escape. We stayed in the dormitiory for a night and went home first thing in the morning. There’s a songthaew in Jomtien Beach that can take you to the city proper and you can ride a van to Bangkok. It was just a quick getaway and for travelers who want to experience Pattaya, it’s very easy and doesn’t need to be expensive.

Don’t forget to have fun from time to time. Yes, we should have goals, but what’s life if we won’t enjoy it?

The Lucky Headband

It was my 15th birthday. I was in third year high school. Everything was happening the way it’s not supposed to be. I hit my lowest low in class ranking, from being rank 2 to rank 16. I was devastated

But…

My grandfather gave me a gift on my 15th birthday. It was a headband with a circle design and a smiley printed on it. It was a different and sort of funny headband. It was a happy headband.

That time, headbands were on trend. Though, most of my classmates would wear a headband with a ribbon on it. Sparkly headbands were cool that time. Still, I wore my happy headband with a weird and funny design with much pride.

Fast forward I was in fourth year high school. I still got my happy headband. Its meaning to me changed since then. I was a student leader slash academic person (ew!) in high school, I would often compete in writing contests, science and math quiz bee, and whatever quiz bees were there. One time, I decided to wear my happy headband as a fashion statement. For me, it looks so good with my uniform, and I hate it when my hair falls off when I am on concentration mode in contests.

When I decided to wear the happy headband, it was at a moment when I was losing my confidence in myself because it seemed like everything was falling apart, my sister got sick, my parents separated, and so I was falling off the winning wagon. In short, I often lost and got depressed.

So, I started wearing the happy headband. And, for some reason that I didn’t understand, I was on a winning streak again. Every time I wore it, I’d win. So I established a superstitious belief that if I wear my happy headband on days that I will be needing a lot of luck, I’ll win.

My happy headband made me feel like myself again. I was passionate with everything and I was, happy again. I took care of that headband.

But one day, I accidentally broke it.

I was frantic. What on earth will I do? Without it, I’m doomed. I won’t win. For the next competition, I still wore my broken, happy headband, but this time, I lost. I blamed myself for not taking care of my lucky charm. Why was I so stupid? The luck was gone, and I will lose forever.

At that time, studying was my life and competing made me forget about all the problems at home. I basked in the feeling of winning. At least, I have this one area in my life that doesn’t suck. When I lost, it felt as if I won’t be happy again. Maybe, that was it. Maybe I had my happy moments and that was it for me.

I used to believe in luck.

If I put coins in my shoe on a very important day, I know that amazing things will happen. If I wear my lucky blouse, it’s gonna be a good day. If I wear black, I’ll be gloomy. If I wear my happy headband, I’ll be happy and I’ll win.

As I grew up, I didn’t have my happy headband anymore. I stopped believing that certain objects can give me the luck that I need. I stopped believing that my happiness, or my dreams coming true would rely on any external object or the circumstances I’m in. I stopped escaping the bad days, instead, I faced them. I stopped getting angry at my alarm clock for ringing at 5 AM and forcing me to go to work. I stopped blaming God, or other people for the misfortune I’m experiencing. I stopped asking God, why me?

I used to run. I thought that everything was a competition, that money will solve all problems, and that success relies on how famous, or rich you are.

I used to run. When situations get out of control, I run away. I would escape, and run as far as I can. I thought that if I run, the monsters would disappear.

But I was wrong. Life taught me that I don’t have to run away. I don’t need a happy headband to make me feel good and conquer the world. All I needed was to be my own best friend. I needed to be my own cheerleader so that I can be brave when I start being afraid. I needed to be my own healthy critic, to make me realize, when I am being wrong. I needed to learn how to cry on my own shoulder when everything seemed too much. To see other people in the best light, to learn to forgive, to learn to be okay. To know when enough is enough and not take bullshit from other people. To be free. To be loving. To be inspired. And of course, to be there for other people.

No more lucky headband, just me, my head, and a big heart.

That was all I needed after all.