"Nionahlie, we need to talk" sabi ni mommy matapos ang tatlong katok sa pintuan ng kwarto ko.
"Come in" I said at itinigil ang pagkalikot sa laptop. Pumasok si mommy at umupo sa kama ko. Umayos naman ako ng upo at hinarap siya. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I didn't like your behavior the other day," she began, raising an eyebrow at me.
"That was ages ago, and now you decide to bring it up?"
"Nionahlie!" Mom scolded. "You know how busy I am with work and you understand that, right?" she said sharply.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right. I know you're always busy with your work, and I understand that, so I'm wondering why you're here. Shouldn't you be designing gowns?" I asked, lacking enthusiasm.
"I do have work, but I prioritized you now because I want to talk to you," she replied.
"Thanks for sparing me your time, Mommy. But I don't need your time. There are projects that need to be done now," I said, signaling for her to leave. We weren't close enough for mother-daughter talks.
"I'm here to discuss your behavior the other day..." she glanced at my closed laptop, "...and I know you're not working on any projects right now," she said.
I tsked, which only worsened her look towards me.
She was only here to reprimand me because my behavior might affect her business dealings. That's just how she operates. She only talks to me or approaches me when she needs something from me, or when I've done something she doesn't like that could affect her standing in the industry.
"Okay, I know my behavior the other day was wrong. Don't worry, it won't happen again," I said just to reassure her.
"That's not what I want to hear. Why did you act that way? I didn't teach you to behave like that," she said, looking me in the eye.
"When did you ever teach me?" I retorted.
Ever since I was a child, all she did was work and provide for my luxuries. As I grew older, I began to understand her actions more, but at the same time, I started to distance myself from her.
"Don't talk back to me like that, Nionahlie!" Her voice rose slightly, which didn't surprise me. I just shrugged.
"Okay, I won't respond like that again." I think this was the first time we had spoken like this after three weeks. I could count on one hand the number of times she had entered my room in the past month.
She took a deep breath. "Niona, I'm doing all of this for us—"
"I know, Mom," I cut her off. When I was younger, I admired her work because she was truly talented at designing. But that admiration slowly faded because she spent more time working than she did with me.
"I'm getting married to further our company," she explained. "Don't give me that attitude because I didn't like your behavior these past few days, Nionahlie. You even did something foolish at school."
I sighed deeply this time.
"Yeah, sure. Get married if you want to. As if I can stop you, right?"
She didn't even ask me if I wanted her to get married or if I wanted a father figure. But then I wondered, why would she ask me? I'm just a model for her clothes.
"Be ready for a family dinner next week," she said, and then she left the room without another word. I wanted to laugh at myself. Family dinner? It sounded so absurd.
I'm tired of hearing the same old refrain: that I'm as beautiful as my mother, as intelligent as my mother, that I have the same personality as my mother. I'm also tired of being known only as her daughter, as if I'm famous simply because of her.
Being her daughter has become more of a burden than a privilege. Instead of being seen as an individual with my own unique qualities and traits, I am reduced to nothing more than an extension of her. People don't see me for who I am; they see her in me. It's as if my identity has been subsumed by hers, overshadowed by her larger-than-life presence in the eyes of the world.
I've grown weary of being defined by her achievements, of living in the long shadow of her success. It's exhausting to constantly measure myself against the yardstick of her greatness, to feel inadequate in comparison. No matter what I do, I will always be judged against the benchmark set by her accomplishments.
And it's not just the comparisons that wear me down—it's the expectation that I should somehow emulate her, that I should strive to be her carbon copy in every way. But I am not her, and I refuse to be confined by the limitations of her image. I am my own person, with my own dreams, my own aspirations, my own flaws and strengths.
Yet, despite my protests, the comparisons persist, haunting me like a specter that I cannot shake. It's disheartening to be constantly reminded of my perceived inferiority, to feel like I will never measure up to the pedestal upon which she is placed. I long to break free from the suffocating grip of her legacy, to carve out my own path in life untethered by the weight of her reputation.
But for now, I am resigned to endure the ceaseless comparisons, to smile politely and nod in agreement, even as I yearn to assert my independence and reclaim my identity. Someday, I hope to be recognized for who I truly am, not as a mere reflection of her, but as a unique and individual soul in my own right. Until then, I will continue to navigate the complexities of being her daughter, even as I strive to find my own place in the world.
Many say I'm lucky to have my mom. They say I'm fortunate to have grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth. But behind the facade of my seemingly perfect life lies a vast distance between my mother and me. Unknown to many, behind the glossy headlines about our seemingly harmonious relationship lies a big lie. Because while many assume that our bond is beautiful, the truth is far from it.
If given the chance to trade places with anyone in the world, I would accept it in a heartbeat. The privileged life I lead, the one so many envy, only brings me pain.
Pagkatapos kong maligo ay nagpalit ako ng jeans at nagsuot ng hoodie. Gusto ko munang lumabas kahit saglit. Gusto kong makalanghap ng sariwang hangin sa ilalim ng malamig at madilim na kalangitan.
Pagkababa ko sa hagdan ay nakita ko si Manang Vicky na papaakyat habang dala-dala ang tray na may lamang kape at sandwich. Tumigil siya sa paghakbang nang makita ako.
"Oh hija, saan ang punta mo?" Tanong niya nang mapansin ang aking suot.
"Diyan lang sa tabi-tabi." Simpleng sagot ko at nagpatuloy na sa pagbaba.
"Sandali at tatawagin ko lang si Joberth—"
"Huwag na, Manang." Sabi ko nang makababa ako sa dulo ng hagdan. Lumingon ako sa gawi niya na hindi pa pala umaalis sa kinatatayuan. "Hindi naman ako magpapagabi"
May kung anong emosyon akong nakita sa mga mata niya na isinawalang bahala ko lang. Alam kong alam niya ang nangyayari sa amin ni Mommy. Siya lang ang katulong na nagtagal sa amin. Siya ang nakakaalam ng totoong relasyon na meron kami ni Mommy.
"Sige, mag-iingat ka ha" aniya sabay ngiti bago umakyat sa second floor.
Alam kong naaawa siya sa amin ni Mommy. Nakikita ko iyon sa mga kilos niya kahit hindi niya sabihin. Maraming beses na niyang nasaksihan ang pagtatalo namin ni Mommy at kung paano namin itrato ang isa't-isa. Natutuwa nga ako dahil sa kabila noon ay hindi niya kami iniiwan kahit ilang beses na siyang napagtaasan ng boses ni Mommy.
Pumunta ako sa pinakamalapit na convenience store sa labas ng subdivision namin. Kinailangan ko ring itago ang mukha ko dahil nga kilala ang nanay ko bilang isang fashion designer, nakilala rin ako. Maraming fans si Mommy at maraming nangangarap na maging katulad niya. Well, not me.
Kumuha ako ng dalawang beer at vcut na malaki. Kumuha rin ako ng siopao dahil nakita kong nag-iisa na lang iyon.
"One hundred two lang po, Ma'am"
Binigyan ko siya ng one hundred fifty na galing sa bulsa ng hoodie. Hindi ako nagdadala ng wallet kapag naglalakad ako sa kalsada dahil uso ang pagnanakaw.
"Keep the change" sabi ko nang akmang ibibigay niya ang sukli. Kinuha ko ang pagkain na nilagay niya sa paper bag. Nagpasalamat siya bago ako umalis.
Mabuti na lang at wala gaanong tao ngayon kaya hindi ako madudumog. Nagsuot ako ng mask kanina dahil panay ang tingin sa akin nung cashier na para bang kinikilala ako.
Habang naglalakad ay nakakita ako ng mga magpapamilyang natutulog sa gilid ng kalsada. Ang iba ay sa tapat pa ng nakasaradong parlor. Nakita ko ang isang nanay na pinapatahan ang sa tingin ko at apat na taong gulang niyang anak na lalaki. Hinahagod niya ang likod nito at tinatapik ang pang-upo para makatulog.
Nag-angat ng tingin ang nanay at nagtama ang tingin namin. Inilahad naman niya ang kaniyang palad para manghingi. Wala akong dalang pera dahil saktong one-fifty ang dala ko at hindi ko pa kinuha ang sukli. Tumingin muna ako sa paligid bago lumapit sa kanila.
"Here" ibinigay ko sa kaniya ang siopao na binili. "Feed him" Sabi ko sabay baba ng tingin sa batang nakatingin na sa binigay kong pagkain.
"Salamat po"
Tumango lang ako at naglakad na paalis dahil hindi ako komportable roon. Hindi talaga ako nagbibigay ng kahit ano sa mga namumulubi dahil naniniwala akong dapat ay matuto silang tumayo sa sariling mga paa at kumayod sa buhay para may maitustos sila sa pangangailangan ng kanilang pamilya, pero dahil nakaramdam ako ng kaunting awa sa batang umiiyak na marahil ay dahil sa gutom, ibinigay ko na lang ang pagkain. Hindi ko rin naman iyon mauubos dahil malaki ang vcut na binili ko.
Ayaw ko ring magtagal doon dahil sensitive ang balat ko at madaling mangati. Isa pa, ayaw kong may nakakakita sa aking nagbibigay sa ibang tao. I don't know, pero hindi ko lang gusto. Perhaps they might assume that I only give because there are people watching. But I detest that notion. Maraming kumakalat ngayon sa balita na mga taong may magagandang loob at nagbibigay sa mga nangangailangan pero may kasama pang picture or video. Although, tama na nagbigay, may hidden agenda naman.
Many times, people engage in acts of giving simply because they want others to see them doing it. They might donate to charity, volunteer their time, or help someone in need, not out of genuine concern or compassion, but because they crave the attention and approval that comes with being perceived as a generous and compassionate individual.
Similarly, in today's age of social media, there is a growing trend of people using platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter to showcase their acts of kindness to a wide audience. They post pictures and videos of themselves engaging in charitable activities, accompanied by captions that highlight their altruistic deeds. However, behind these carefully curated posts lies a desire for validation and recognition rather than a true desire to make a positive impact on the lives of others.
In essence, these individuals are more concerned with how their actions will be perceived by others rather than the actual impact they have on those they are purportedly helping. They prioritize the appearance of being a good person over the genuine intention to do good.
Ultimately, their motivation stems from a need for external validation and approval, rather than an innate desire to alleviate suffering or make a difference in the world. They are driven by the desire to impress others and boost their own ego, rather than by a genuine sense of empathy and compassion.
In the end, while their actions may appear altruistic on the surface, they are ultimately hollow and lacking in authenticity. True generosity and kindness come from the heart, without the need for recognition or praise from others. Pero hindi ko naman sinasabing lahat. Just some.
Diretso ako sa kwarto pagkarating sa bahay para hindi makita ng kahit sino ang binili kong beer. Hindi naman mababa ang alcohol tolerance ko pero hindi rin ganoon kataas. Binuksan ko ang TV at nanood ng horror movies habang nilalantakan ang vcut at tinutungga ang beer.
I love this kind of feeling. My me time. Nagbibigay ako ng oras sa sarili ko para gawin ko ang mga bagay na nagpapasaya sa akin bukod sa pagme-makeup. This is so relaxing. Next time ay pupunta akong dagat nang mag-isa. I can do all things on my own.
Nakatulog agad ako pagkatapos kong inumin ang dalawang beer. Hindi naman ako nalasing, just tipsy. Hindi ko na rin naligpit ang pinagkainan ko, mabuti na lang at nalinis na ng katulong pagkagising ko.
"Gising ka na pala. Mag-almusal ka na" bungad sa akin ni Manang Vicky pagkapasok ko sa kusina. Wala na si mommy dahil maaga siyang pumapasok sa trabaho. "Ito, mainit pa 'yan para mahimasmasan ka" aniya sabay lapag sa harap ko ng corn soup.
Inubos ko iyon dahil kailangan talaga 'yon ng pakiramdam ko ngayon. Si Manang ay naghuhugas ng plato habang ang ibang katulong ay naglilinis ng buong bahay.
"Manang" tawag ko sa kaniya.
Huminto siya sa ginagawa at agad na lumapit sa akin, "Oh bakit? May kailangan ka ba?" Mahinahon niyang tanong.
"Do you have a child?" Tanong ko sa kaniya habang ang mga mata ay nanatili sa kapeng hinahalo ko.
"Oo naman" masaya niyang sagot na para bang nag-iba ang mood niya nang maalala ang kaniyang anak.
"A daughter?"
"Hindi, lalaki ang anak ko"
"Where is he?" Tumingin ako sa kaniya.
Ngumiti siya sa akin bago sumagot, "Nasa probinsya siya. Doon nag-aaral dahil inaalagaan niya ang bunso niyang kapatid"
"Hmm..."
Ngayon lang ako nagtanong patungkol sa buhay ng mga katulong dito. Hindi naman ako mahilig umalam ng buhay ng iba.
"He must be a good son and big brother, then?"
Mahinang natawa si Manang "Aba'y oo naman. Kung hindi mo naitatanong ay napakasipag ng batang iyon. Lagi siyang tumutulong sa pagtatanim at pag-aalaga ng mga kalabaw kasama ang ama niya"
Tumango-tango ako. Even though their lives are simple, they still appear happy.
"Why are you here then?"
Nawala ang ngiti sa mukha ni Manang, "Hindi kasi sapat ang kinikita namin sa probinsya kaya kinailangan kong lumuwas sa Maynila para may maitustos ako sa pamilya at sa pag-aaral ng mga anak ko"
Bahagya akong ngumit, "You're such a great mother"
Nakita kong natigilan siya kaya bago pa siya makapagsalita ay tumayo na ako. "Aalis na ako, Manang, baka ma-late ako sa school" sabi ko.
"Sige, mag-iingat ka, hija" pahabol niyang sabi nang makalabas ako sa kusina.
Pagkarating sa school ay dating gawi. Pero ngayon ay medyo nabawasan na ang usap-usapan patungkol sa akin dahil sa pagdating ng magpinsan. Sila ang pinag-uusapan ng karamihan ngayon.
Habang naglalakad ay hindi ko maiwasang tumingin sa paligid. Ang iba ay tumitingin sa akin habang ang iba naman ay may kaniya-kaniyang mundo.
"Ouch!" Daing ko nang may bumangga sa aking kung ano. Napaupo ako sa sahig dahilan para pagtinginan ako ng mga estudyante sa paligid. Tumingin ako nang masama sa babaeng tatanga-tanga. "Are you blind? Can't you see that I'm walking?!" Maarte kong sabi at tumayo. Pinagpagan ko rin ang bag at uniform kong suot na may kaunting juice sa gilid. Napatingin ako sa hawak ng babae na orange juice.
"S-sorry, hindi ko sinasadya"
Tinuro ko ang banda kung saan ako natapunan "Look at what you did. Dinumihan mo ang uniform ko!"
Wala akong pakialam sa mga estudyanteng nanonood sa amin. Ang tanging iniisip ko lang ay ang babaeng nakayuko at hindi makatingin nang maayos sa akin. Sa sobrang sama ng tingin ko sa kaniya ay kulang na lang lamunin siya ng lupa.
"At ano pang tinatayo-tayo mo riyan?! Aren't you going to do something!?"
"A-ah...wait, p-pupunasan ko na lang" natataranta niyang sabi habang may kung anong kinukuha sa kaniyang bag. Nang makita ko ang panyo niya mula sa bag at akmang ipupunas sa akin ay mabilis kong hinawi ang kamay niya dahilan para mahulog ang panyo sa sahig.
Rinig ko ang bulungan ng mga estudyanteng nanonood sa amin. Namumula naman ang mukha ng babaeng nasa harap ko. Pinulot niya yung panyo at akmang ipupunas ulit sa akin. Sa inis ko ay nahampas ko ang kamay niya.
"What do you think you're doing?! Are you seriously planning to wipe that thing on me? The one that came from the floor?! Is that supposed to be a rag?! Are you going to wipe me with a rag?! Are you insulting me?!" Naiinis kong sabi.
"What do you want to do, sister?" Tanong ng kung sinong lalaki sa likod ko.
Inis akong lumingon sa kaniya.
Itinaas niya ang dalawang kamay na parang sumusuko, "Okay, okay, hindi ako makikisali" he chuckled "Ang aga-aga ang sungit mo"
"Hah?! Look what she did to me?!" Tinuro ko ang uniform. Bumaba naman doon ang tingin ni Sheldon at saka ngumisi.
"Should I make her pay?"
"Bakit? Ikaw ba ang natapunan?!" Ngayon ay sa kaniya nabaling ang pagkainis ko.
"Woah, woah," umatras siya nang isang hakbang "Don't be mad at me. Hindi naman ako ang nakatapon sa'yo"
Binigyan ko siya ng isang matalim na taray bago hinarap ang babae. "What's your name?" I said, coldly.
"H-ha?" Nag-angat siya ng tingin.
"Oh, bingi ka rin?"
"A-ah...N-nezel M-mendoza"
"What?!"
"Nezel Mendoza" nakayuko niyang sagot.
"Alright. Ayaw ko nang makita pa ang pagmumukha mo, okay? Huwag kang magpapakita sa akin dahil sa oras na makita pa kita," tinuro ko si Sheldon habang nakatingin pa rin sa babaeng nasa harapan ko "Magagaya sa mga taong inalipusta nito"
"Hey! Grabe ka naman sa inalipusta." Agad namang reklamo ni Sheldon.
Isang masamang tingin ang ipinukol ko kay Sheldon at sa Shantal na ito, "My goodness!" Sabi ko sabay walk out.