Confessions of a Retired Angry Girl

I used to be an expressive girl. I spoke my mind without hesitation, fought for what I believed was right, and never cared if my words cut too deep. For me, it was enough to be heard, to make my point clear even if it meant hurting people along the way.

But here’s the twist: behind that bold, tough-looking girl was a certified cry-baby. Yeah. I was, in truth, a cry-baby. Almost everything that upset me brought me to tears. My Mama used to say that people avoided making jokes around me because I was too grumpy and easily offended. And yes, when I felt wronged, I held onto that grudge, sometimes for far too long.

Then came fifth grade. The year I officially got my "bullying survivor" badge. I can still recall the names, the faces, the whispers. One of my classmates, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named spread rumors that made me look awful. But here's the more plotted twist: while they were busy laughing, I was busy topping the class. Revenge is sweet, but success? EVEN SWEETER. 

Fast forward to college. I found my partner-in-crime, Joanna. We were the perfect definition of Yin and Yang. She was quiet and chill; I was… well, not quiet and definitely not chill. Whenever we landed in trouble, I was the one doing all the talking, explaining, and more often than not, arguing. I had no patience for injustice and couldn’t stand people who silenced themselves in the face of unfairness. It fueled my anger. I wanted to be their voice, their defender, their hero.

Looking back, I realize I was consumed with anger. I hated the world, hated weakness, hated silence. And yet, there are days when I miss that girl. The one who was unafraid to speak, unafraid of consequences, unafraid to be disliked.

Now, I am no longer that angry girl. I find it harder to raise my voice, even at myself. I swallow words I wish I could say. I tell myself it’s better to sacrifice than to create conflict. But deep inside, I know the silence hurts just as much as the anger once did.

Still, my journey is no longer about rage—it’s about grace. As I draw closer to God, I find myself learning to release the burdens I once carried: the anger, the rage, the loneliness, the despair. They no longer define me. I just want love. 

Now, my heart longs to ask: How far can love go?

Because at the end of it all, it is not anger that saves us. It is love.

And that’s the love I want not the shallow kind, not the conditional kind, but a love that runs deep and wide. Love for God, who never gave up on me. Love for myself, so I can finally forgive the girl I used to be. Love for my family and friends, who stood by me through every season. And yes, even love for those who hurt me so badly, because carrying bitterness only chains me to the past.

This is the kind of love I choose now. The kind that heals, restores, and sets me free.

And I am so proud of who I am now. 

To Forgive and Forget, or to Forgive but Not Forget

There are moments in life that cut so deep, they stay with us forever. I've had my share of hurt. The kind that makes you question people, love, even yourself. Sometimes, the pain builds walls around us, making it hard to trust again. And yet, life keeps asking us this timeless question: When we're wronged, do we forgive and forget, or do we forgive but never forget?

I used to think forgiveness was simple. You say sorry, you move on, you forget. But as I've grown older, I realized forgiveness isn't that easy. It's layered, messy, and very personal. 

Curious about how others see it, I asked some random friends, and people closest to me about their own take on forgiveness. What they shared gave me a deeper perspective, and honestly? It touched my heart in ways I didn't expect.

OMAR's honesty stayed with me. He said:

"For me, with my personality, I cannot forget at all. But in life, I believe we must forgive and forget. Because if you don't forget, then you haven''t truly forgiven 100%. There will always be something left in your heart. So, ideally, forgive and forget. But honestly for me, I forgive, but I cannot forget"

I could hear the struggle in his words. The desire to let go fully, but also the reality that forgetting isn't always possible. I felt that. Sometimes, our minds replay the pain even when our hearts want peace. 

Then there's JABIR, who has a more guarded view:

"No, if anyone do, ah like anyone do for me bad, I make that one more badly for him. I will forgive sure but I will not forget because you know if you forget 1st time, second time they will do it again. They repeat one by one. They may not do it today, or tomorrow, but the next day, they will hurt you again. So I will forgive yes but I will never forget."

His words reminded me of self-preservation. Forgiving doesn't mean giving people a free pass to keep wounding us. Forgetting too easily can sometimes open the door to repeated hurt.

ROSSENGEL - my rock and my gentle reminder of faith - told me something that warmed my heart:

"Forgive and love - that's biblical mommy. Love your enemy and do not hold on to the past, but look ahead to what is good. Humanly speaking, that's not easy to do, but in time we can learn, because that's truly the right thing to do."

Hearing him speak reminded me that forgiveness, at its highest form, is an act of grace. It's not about whether the person deserves it, but whether we choose to free ourselves from carrying the weight of resentment.

YUMA's answer hit me differently - it felt raw, unfiltered, and real:

"I don't forgive nor forget. As an empath, I find it difficult to forgive a person or forget the things that he did to me. Most specially if it's from a family member, friends, or someone dear to me. It might seem selfish, but those actions speak louder to me, means you really don't care about how would that make me feel and that's disappointing knowing that I do care. So I would retract from that situation, make you feel like a complete stranger, like I never knew or let you come into my life."

Her words made me pause. Not forgiving at all may sound harsh, but I understood her pain. Sometimes protecting your heart means walking away completely. 

Then came JOANNA, with the wisdom of someone who has grown through experiences:

"To forgive but not forget. My younger self will choose the first one but as you grow older man gud, you see through people's pretentiousness, and intentions. That is why you forgive but don't forget especially when it comes to your self. You forgive yourself but don't forget the lesson."

That one struck a chord with me. It's true. Age teaches us to balance compassion with caution. Forgiveness can be a gift, but memory becomes our teacher.

Finally, ANILA put it beautifully and simply:

"Forgive but don't forget. We're all human, and nobody is perfect. But we should never forget the lesson we've learned from being hurt."

Her words tied everything together because isn't that what life is? A series of lessons, often disguised as wounds. 

As I listened to all of them, I realized forgiveness isn't a straight path. It looks different for each of us. Some forgive and let go completely, some hold onto the memory to protect themselves, and some struggle to forgive at all. 

I used to think forgiving and forgetting was the "right" way, but now I believe it's more about what brings peace to your heart. Sometimes peace means letting go entirely. Sometimes it means remembering so you don't repeat the same mistake. And sometimes it means stepping back and choosing yourself.

Whatever forgiveness looks like for you, I hope it leads you to healing. Not just for the other person, but for yourself. Because at the end of the day, forgiveness is less about erasing the past, and more about freeing our hearts to move forward. 

ⓒphoto from dreamstime

20 Tips For a Successful Marriage

Marriage isn’t just about wearing a fancy outfit once and eating cake in front of everyone you know. It’s the after-party that lasts forever! Complete with dirty laundry, shared Wi-Fi passwords, and occasional arguments about where to order takeout. A successful marriage isn’t about never fighting or being a picture-perfect couple. NOBODY IS. It’s about learning how to love each other through the chaos, laugh at the small stuff, and keep choosing each other, day after day, year after year.

So, before anything else, remember this: the most important foundation of marriage is God. When He is at the center of your relationship, love becomes stronger, forgiveness comes easier, and every challenge becomes a little lighter. 

These 20 tips are helpful, but they work best when your marriage is anchored in faith and guided by Him.

1. Marry Your Best Friend

Not your literal BFF (though, hey, that a win-win!) But marry someone you actually like hanging out with. Looks fade, Netflix passwords expire, but laughing through life's curveballs together? That's forever. 

2. Communication is Vital 

Silent treatment is not communication. Neither is "I'm fine." Talk it out, even if it's uncomfortable. Yes, that includes the tough conversations about money, in-laws, and whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

3. Practice Forgiveness

Your spouse will annoy you. You will annoy your spouse. Forgive, move on, and resist the urge to bring up that one time they forgot your birthday three years ago...every argument since.

4. Quality Time

"Netflix and chill" is great, but try "Netflix and actually talk". GO ON DATES. Learn their hobbies. Pretend to enjoy their favorite show - even if it's the 14th crime documentary this week.

5. Remember You're a Team

Marriage isn't a solo sport. Teamwork means sharing responsibilities, supporting each other, and occasionally letting them win at board games (even when you're crushing it).

6. Enjoy Time Alone

Marriage doesn't mean you're surgically attached. Go out with your friends, read that book, or binge a show solo. Space makes the heart grow fonder, and keeps you from strangling each other.

7. Build Trust

If you can't trust your partner, you're in a bumpy ride. Trust is built daily through honesty, reliability, and not eating the last slice of pizza without asking.

8. Listen (Really Listen)

Nodding while scrolling instagram doesn't count. Active listening means eye contact, questions, and maybe even remembering what they said. Bonus points if you don't interrupt.

9. Accept Disagreements 

Spoiler alert: you won't agree on everything. That's okay. You're two humans, not clones. Respect each other's opinions, even if their favorite ice cream flavor is clearly wrong. 

10. Keep it Spicy

Yes, we mean that. But also keep flirting, keep surprising each other, and keep the romance alive. Think of it like keeping a houseplant alive - water it, give it attention, and occasionally talk dirty to it.

11. Establish Boundaries

Your spouse isn't a mind reader. Spell out your "no-go" zones. Boundaries can be about anything, from finances to how much of your fries they're allowed to steal.

12. Address the Little Things

Small annoyances pile up. Don't let socks on the floor turn into World War III. Talk about it before the anthill becomes a mountain. 

13. Don't Take Them for Granted

Familiarity breeds.. well, sometimes laziness. Don't let your marriage go on autopilot. Compliment them. Surprise them. Remind them they're still the one you'd swipe right on.

14. Learn to Fight (Fairly)

You're going to argue. The trick is to do it without screaming, name-calling, or referencing that one embarrassing thing they did in 2009.

15. Agree on Big Things

Kids? Finances? Moving across the country? You need to be in the same page. Don't surprise your spouse with a new dog, a new job, or a new tattoo of their face.

16. Remember Romance

Romance isn't just roses and candlelit dinners. Sometimes it's doing the dishes so they don't have to. Or sending a flirty text. Or bringing home spaghetti unannounced. 

17. Laugh With Them

Life is stressful. Laughter is a medicine. Find the silly, share the jokes, and don't be afraid to laugh at yourself (or at each other, kindly)

18. Embrace Change

You're not going to be the same page at 25, 45, and 75. Change is inevitable. Grow together, not apart. Bonus: your partner might develop new cooking skills. 

19. Express Appreciation

Never underestimate the power of a "THANK YOU." or a KISS. Or coffee in bed. Small gestures go a long way, bonus if they come with snacks.

20. Split Responsibilities

Chores, bills, errands (divide and conquer). No one wants to feel like the unpaid housekeeper. And remember: laundry counts as foreplay if you do it right. 

At the end of the day, marriage is basically a lifetime sleepover with your favorite (and sometimes most annoying) person. You’ll laugh, you’ll argue, you’ll share snacks, and occasionally you’ll want to smother them with a pillow but in the cute, non-criminal way. The secret isn’t about being perfect; it’s about showing up, choosing love, and keeping things fun along the way.

So, follow these tips, embrace the chaos, and remember: if you can survive assembling IKEA furniture together without filing for divorce, you’re probably doing just fine. 

© Forget About Divorce: 20 Tips For A Successful Marriage

God's Gift Wrapped in Scrubs

There are moments in life when God reminds us that we are never truly alone. Sometimes, He does this not through grand miracles, but through people — ordinary people who unexpectedly walk into our lives and leave extraordinary imprints on our hearts. 

Friendships, I believe, are one of His greatest gifts. They may come quietly, but their impact lasts a lifetime. I believe the people we meet each day are God-given gifts. Some enter our lives to stay permanently, while others come only for a season —to test us, teach us, or often to bring out the best in us. 

When I was accepted into the hospital where my husband also worked, I didn't just gain a new workplace —I gained new friendships that I now treasure deeply. 

Meeting Jhulia

I met a cute, bubbly young woman named Jhulia during our orientation. She was a newly registered nurse who had decided to begin her practice a year later, which is why our paths crossed at that exact moment. At first, I thought she was a simple person. But as the days passed, I discovered she was far more than that —she was warm, radiant, and simply beautiful inside and out.

All of my batchmates at the time were Generation Z. While I may look like I could pass as one of them (thanks to my height that often makes me look like I just came from grade school) what stood out most was not their youth, but their hearts. They were respectful, genuine, and passionate about the nursing profession. They weren't there because of pressure from parents, or because nursing was a trend, or because they liked the uniform. They were there because they wanted to serve. Their passion was evident, and I couldn't have been prouder to be part of their group. 

Among them, Jhulia became someone very close to me, especially because we worked at the same station.

Strength Beyond Measure

At first, I thought I already understood who Jhulia was. But as I spent more time with her, I realized she was even more admirable than I imagined. Beneath her cheerful nature was a strength that inspired me. Physically, emotionally, and mentally, she had the resilience of someone raised with great courage. Outwardly, she may appear to be just like any other young woman, but her maturity goes far beyond her years. What I admire most about her is her ability to truly listen. She speaks her mind with honesty and confidence, unafraid to express her thoughts. And no matter what she's going through, she maintains the same professionalism, humor, and poise at work, never allowing her challenges to affect her dedication or demeanor. 

My Dear Jhulia, 

I am so proud to have met you. You are one of the most beautiful souls I've ever known. And I'm sorry I wasn't there during moments you needed me most, but please remember this —you are stronger than you realize. God knows the desires of your heart, and He rewards every sacrifice. I know you are still healing, but you are getting there. Hold on to your faith, and remember that you are never alone. You are loved by many, including me. And you will always be Leeloi's "Tita Chicken🐔." I love you, and I know we will see each other again. 

With love, 

Ate Buj💓

Meeting Love

 

There was also another young woman who grew close to my heart —Mevee Love. At first, she was the shyest person I had ever met. During the first few weeks, we hardly spoke, and I didn't get the chance to know her well. She grew close to Jhulia first, which wasn't surprising —after all, Jhulia's bubbly personality was magnetic. 

Eventually, the three of us bonded, and I got to know the beautiful soul that Love is. She has a kindness that runs deep, and her presence is calming. One thing I will never forget about her is her Ilongga accent —it's distinct, and no matter her emotion, whether happy, sad, or upset, it always sounds the same. It's one of the many things that make her so endearing.

My Dear Love, 

I miss your hugs and your sweet voice. I am so proud of how far you've come, especially in stepping outside your comfort zone. I pray that God will always bring out the best in you. Your new look with your short hair is just beautiful —it suits you perfectly. Please know that you will always have a special place in my heart. You are someone I will cherish for the rest of my life. Thank you for always being such a genuinely kind person. And you will always be Leeloi's "Tita Pizza 🍕." I can't wait until we see each other again.

With love, 

Ate Buj💖

One Soul in Three Bodies

Bonding with Jhulia and Love has been of the greatest blessings of my life. Though their personalities are different, both of them have such big hearts and unmatched souls.

Because of them, I now have my own definition of friendship:

"A friend is a single soul dwelling in three bodies."

To both of you, my dear Jhulia and Love: distance may separate us for now, but time will bring us together again. You have left such a meaningful influence on me, on Leeloi, and even Sir Ops. Please don't forget me, because I will never forget you.

You are my God-given gifts, and I thank Him everyday for blessing me with your friendship.

With love always, 

Ate Buj.

I Thought I Was Home for Good—Until God Called Me Back

For nine long years, I served as a nurse in Saudi Arabia—an Overseas Filipino Worker who built a life of discipline, hard work, and quiet sacrifice. But one day, I felt a gentle nudge in my spirit. It was time to come home. With peace in my heart and big dreams for my future, I returned to the Philippines permanently—or so I thought.

At first, everything fell beautifully into place. My husband and I rented our own space—our little sanctuary we long dreamed of. We lived simply but freely, finally able to buy groceries without checking price tags twice. It felt like a dream unfolding. But reality has a way of shaking even the most hopeful hearts.

Slowly, cracks began to show.

Fear crept in, followed by financial strain, emotional distance, and unspoken thoughts that grew louder in silence. My husband and I began drifting apart—not through fights, but through the kind of quiet disconnect that hurts even more. We stopped communicating the way we used to. We were two people living under one roof, slowly becoming strangers.

One day, we were scheduled to visit my parents—my mom’s birthday. It was a long drive. My husband was visibly tired, emotionally distant, and not himself. Still, I insisted we go. He agreed, but halfway through the ride, he asked for a moment to rest. He was exhausted. Ten minutes passed. He started the car again, wordless and heavy.

Then it happened.

A police checkpoint flagged us down. Our first traffic violation: no seatbelt. I was holding our son in front without a seatbelt—something my husband constantly reminded me about in the past. But that day, he said nothing. And I, lost in my own bubble of concern, ignored it.

They took his license.

The disappointment around me was crushing. The guilt was unbearable. Everyone scolded me. And though my husband didn’t say a word, his silence and expression told me everything: It’s your fault. Those words echoed in my head until they broke me.

The only comfort I found that day was in my father’s silent hug. In his arms, I collapsed. And in that moment, I realized the weight I was carrying—guilt, regret, fear, and shame.

Later that night, my husband held me and opened up. Finally, he shared the burden he’d been hiding. I realized then that he had been hurting too, just in a different way. And that poor communication—the kind that makes you assume the worst—can destroy even the strongest of bonds.

Fast forward to June 2024: I took my NCLEX exam, and by God’s grace, I passed. I was accepted into the same hospital where my husband worked. We felt aligned again, our dreams colliding into one shared purpose.

But happiness was layered. Beneath the surface, our finances were crumbling. Inflation spiraled. Bills piled up. And by New Year’s Day, we felt the weight of it all. No joy. No celebration. Just silence. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried like I had never cried before. I felt abandoned—even by God. I stopped praying. I stopped going to church. I was angry with Him. Why wasn’t He listening?

That night, I had a dream.

I was sitting alone on sand, wrapped in peace. No worries. No fear. Then, someone called my name. A man—about my age—held my hand, and we walked together in silence. It felt so real. I woke up sobbing. And for the first time in a long time, I prayed again. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand.”

Just when I thought we were finding our footing, life threw another blow. My husband was diagnosed with bilateral antrochoanal polyps—a mass in his nose that made it hard for him to breathe. The required procedure—an embolization—would cost over half a million pesos.

It was crushing. We sold our car. We rearranged everything. Still, it wasn’t enough.

But God showed up again—just in time. We were led to a compassionate, skilled doctor who helped us navigate a way through. My husband underwent a different treatment, one that didn’t require the massive expense. And finally, he could breathe again—literally and figuratively.

Through every trial, I found myself returning to one truth: the more I drew closer to God, the more the enemy tried to shake my foundation. But I held on.

Because I’ve learned that trials aren’t punishments—they’re preparation.

God breaks us only to rebuild us stronger.

Eventually, I returned abroad. It wasn’t the plan I envisioned years ago, but it was God’s plan all along. And today, I walk with a heart full of faith, clarity, and peace—not because my life is free from problems, but because I know who walks with me through the fire.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

— Jeremiah 29:11

To those who are weary, doubting, and questioning God in the midst of hardship—hold on. I am a living testament that He hears you. Even in your silence, even in your anger, even in your doubt.

God never left. He never will.

When Respect Is Met with Disrespect: Choosing Grace Over Bitterness

August 7, 2025. A date that won't mean anything to most people - but for me, it marks the day I chose peace over noise, boundaries over blind loyalty, and grace over retaliation. 

This isn't a story of drama or revenge. It's a story of growth. A quiet, internal decision that changed how I view friendship, respect, and forgiveness.

A Favor That Turned into a Turning Point

It started with something small. A favor. Simple to understand, simple to do, and just as simple to mend —if it ever needed mending at all. But what I didn't expect was how something so trivial could spiral into something so loud and heavy, just because of tone. 

She wasn't a family member or a lifelong friend — not even someone with deep roots in my life. We hadn't known each other long, just a couple of months, but we clicked quickly — or so I thought. 

I was working quietly at my computer when she barged in, her voice sharp, accusing, and unusually loud — demanding things I had already taken care of the previous week. Her tone cut through the walls, echoing outside our shared space. I remember sitting there, stunned not by the request, but by the disproportionate outburst that came with it. It was a minor task. A simple favor that didn't warrant such a reaction.

Raised with Respect, Even When It's Hard

My parents taught me to respect people — even when they don't deserve it. They taught me to stay calm, speak with kindness, and carry myself with composure, no matter the emotion stirring inside me. 

That day, every fiber of me wanted to respond, to defend myself. But I didn't. Not because I was weak, but because I knew strength doesn't always come with volume. 

As days passed, I kept reflecting on her reaction — not out of resentment, but from a place of disbelief. Her behavior wasn't just out of character. It was a red flag that couldn't be ignored. And the more I looked back, the more I realized those red flags were always there. Subtle signs of someone who acted differently behind closed doors than she did in front of others. 

I treated her like a sister. I was a genuine friend. But after that day, things shifted. And I knew something had to change.

Letting Go isn't Bitterness — It's Wisdom

I chose to stop talking to her. Not because I hated her. Not because I was waiting for an apology. But because I knew my peace was worth protecting. 

Does silence mean I haven't forgiven her? It's a question I wrestled with. But I came to realize that forgiveness doesn't always require conversation. I had already released the anger, already chosen grace. But reconciliation? That requires mutual effort, respect, and trust — none of which were present anymore.

As the Bible says in James 1:19-20:

"Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires."

I could have matched her anger with my own. But I believe God was holding me steady, reminding me that sometimes, strength means walking away quietly instead of staying in chaos. 

A Final Thought: Maybe This Was the Lesson

I pray often that God makes me a better person. Maybe this was His way of answering that prayer — not by removing conflict, but by allowing it to reveal something deeper in me. We all carry a side of ourselves we hope others never see. But how we treat others — especially when emotions run high — says everything about who we are. And how we respond? That's who we choose to become. 

So no, I don't hate her. I don't wish her ill. I just chose peace — and I'm finally okay with that.  

Coming Soon

I hope it's not yet too late for me to come back to writing. It's been 6 months since my last notes about the entities. 

I have been struggling to tell you honestly for the last couple of months. From being away again. Away like leaving my comfort zone. I honestly duno what to say here but it's a good start, aye?

Soon, you'll get more of those real life horror stories. I had bunch.