20/10/2025
I’ve never had a birthday cake with my name on it.
No candles to blow, no song sung just for me. No one cheering as I made a wish.
Maybe that’s why I learned to keep my wishes silent.
No one has ever run their fingers through my hair and told me, ‘You did well, anak.’
No one ever looked me in the eyes with pride, or held me just because they wanted to, not because they had to.
But I have dreams — dreams louder than the silence I grew up with.
Hindi man ako lumaki sa yakap ng magulang, lumaki akong may pag-asang maramdaman kahit minsan ang yakap ng mundo.
Yung yakap na hindi galing sa obligasyon, kundi sa tunay na malasakit.
A kind of love that doesn’t demand me to be perfect — just present. Just alive. Just me.
I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need a big house or expensive gifts.
I just want to be seen. I want to be chosen. I want someone to stay.
Because even a child who’s never been celebrated still longs to feel like they matter.
And even a forgotten heart can still believe that somewhere, somehow, love is on its way.
It’s strange how sometimes strangers love me more —
strangers who have never known my past, never seen my scars,
yet choose to hold me close, to care without condition.
Their love isn’t bound by blood, but by choice —
and that choice means more than words or promises ever could.
Maybe that’s where I found what I was missing all along —
not in the arms that should have held me,
but in the hearts of strangers who stayed."