Ilah Mallari 11/19/25 Ilah Mallari 11/19/25

Preparing For Our Airbnb Through The Failure Of Others

I'm currently writing this, shivering in 44⁰F weather inside a seemingly wonderful apartment in Madrid. This is our 5th reservation through Airbnb or booking.com and everything seemed so lovely; my brother sarcastically said, “oh noo. It's so ugly.” Upon entering, the apartment is clean and pristine. However, a closer look proved it to be a horrible choice. This booking is not prepared for winter use, especially for a disabled person like myself. I'm shivering underneath my thin, one-layered blanket and I ran out of clean pants!

I personally believe that more of everything is better than less. For example, I prefer the cold to heat because my logic is that I can always take layers off if I overheat, but I can't peel my skin off! Additionally, adding things is easier than taking things off. However, since my disability, I've been a little punk to the cold. I have less body mass and muscles have atrophied, resulting in uncontrolled shivering and body temperature. If I wear too many layers and move, I swear, but if I'm idle, then I'm screwed. Especially living in San Francisco where it's hot in downtown then foggy and chilly in the sunset district. God, I miss SF!

My brother and I intend on renovating our Nevada City house to an Airbnb; his personal dream is to make it into a hostel. We are already in the process of renovating and he has even decided to take the first 3 months of 2026 to renovate. We want to make it cozy and personal; buying thrifted art, displaying it, and making it optional for bookers to buy what they are able to pay. Our best stay during this trip was a very personalized cottage and they asked why we wanted to stay. My brother had told them it was for our parent's 51st wedding anniversary and they baked us a delicious cake with champagne! Additionally, it was stocked with homemade jams, cookies, coffee, tea, kitchen items and appliances, a fucking optional panini press, and a working fireplace (along with centralized heat and an optional shower chair 🥹). They truly listened and that's how we want to be. No shortage of anything. My brother and I learned so much from them on how to truly treat our future guests.

Now it's almost 8pm in Madrid and we're scared of plugging anything in or turning on more appliances because this place is clearly unfinished. We called them, someone came, flipped a switch, told us that they only provided what thin sheets they have, and the third time the electricity shut down, we called them and they weren't responsive. I feel like I'm in the Hostel franchise because I can't feel my feet. I cannot express my disappointment and they are sending a portable heater at 9pm. I raised the question to my brother, “what if we plug it in and lose power? You can't work," because my brother is still working from 4pm to 12-1am due to the month-end close. As I lay here, not being able to feel anything from below my right knee, I'm learning how not to treat future guests. Learn more languages, be more accessible, and have a surplus supply of everyt

hing.

Ilah Mallari 11/12/25 Ilah Mallari 11/12/25

Word Vomit: Depression or Genuine Suicidal Ideation?

The holidays are coming and so are the ugly thoughts of suicide. I like being alone; I prefer it and I cannot be around others for long periods of time. Additionally, my mother is here and she makes me feel so small. I know that I am in control of my own feelings, but when your own mother is so petty and narcissistic, I can't help but revert back to self-harm. Yesterday, I was self-harming in public. I started crying in my wheelchair because my brother snapped and said some hurtful words to me. The difference between my brother and narcissistic mother is that we apologize to each other. My mother has never apologized for her hurtful tongue. She also needs to be the victim all the time and always has to have it the worst. Even my brother has been brought to tears and verbally said, “mommy, please! I just want you to listen," followed by her dismissal and comforting him. I do not understand why he thinks he owes/loves her so much when he has shared physical abuse and neglect from the person who is supposed to protect you. My father only likes children when they're small, but ignores them when they don't grow up to what he wants. Unlike my unmaternal parent, I don't think she ever wanted children because she loved work. This dangerous duo have successfully fucked up all their offspring by procreating. They had children for superficial reasons and justify their abuse with our family's rags to riches story. I don't care and I wish I was never born.

I want to die.

I wish I was never born.

Maybe, it's best for me to le

ave.

Ilah Mallari 11/2/25 Ilah Mallari 11/2/25

I think it's time to retire from Instagram…

Last year, I blogged about leaving the internet. This year, at this very moment, I want nothing more than to remove myself from my online life. As the world turns to shit, the more I see the atrocities of humans online. I get angry and question how humanity can be so cruel. Meanwhile, when I'm not online, I'm filled with joy, connection, and fulfillment out of in-person events. I love spending time alone, while occasionally being an extrovert. I want to be intentional with my online presence, but still be true to myself. But whenever I open Instagram, it's simply reflex, not because of desire. Sure, the memes are gold and my communities are amazing, but I can't tolerate seeing all the negativity and injustice towards humanity; I already get that from real life. So I'm at a stalemate, therefore, I'm going to do what I do best and write about the pros and cons of being on online. From the atrocities of Meta to Amerikan censorship, my mental health has severely been affected by these changes. However, I've also done so much good and can do more with my growing online presence. But at what cost? So I did what I do best… a pros and cons list.

Cons:

The increased threat of being online is a true concern for me now. I live in San Francisco, a city where I constantly cross paths with the same people. Most are good, but I've had stalkers and genuine threats. I had a stalker back when I was still active on Onlyfans and they told me they knew where I lived. They had found my address online and thankfully, it was the house I spent most of my life in Pittsburg, CA; I was already living in SF. I try my hardest to be so fearlessly transparent and authentic online, but as my presence increases, so do the threats of harm. This is why I record without showing the background of my location and have started tagging locations after leaving said location. The fear of being harmed is real to me, especially as a disabled WOC.

Seeing how awful and divided people have become truly devastates me. Since the ongoing pandemic, I have noticed how divided people are more than ever. For example, everything is behind a paywall now. I'm part of at least 4 online communities where I pay to be a part of a community. The internet used to be so free, in all aspects. With a tremendous increase in censorship, corporate companies creating paywalls, I feel my internet communities are like cliques. Everything seems to be about money and I hate it. Not only is my bank account suffering, but this is only dividing us more. I want a free internet, like my old neopets or non-existent streaming services. Where'd all the free shit go?

Freedom of speech, where? I can't even speak my truth without being censored or someone threatening me and it's not because I'm posting heinous content. I am a storytelling activist because I cannot physically go to protests. I started doing stand-up comedy and I am loving it because I don't have to hide behind a screen. I speak about what I experience and know to be true. I get censored while racists and transphobes rise to the top. Reversely, the only activists I consistently see online have dwindling views and stagnant followers. Why? Oh yeah, because of the sucky Zucc.

Burnout. I grew up on the Internet. Friendster, Myspace, Neopets, Club Penguin, Maple Story, and Gaia Online were my online playgrounds. I am 31 and I have seen every phase of the internet; old YouTube, 4chan, and Tumblr. I only use one of those three today and YouTube is so fucked. The wrong people get bumped up and platformed, while the true heroes are censored. I don't want to hate the internet, but I hate the current censorship the internet has. Freedom of speech, where!? I feel like China has more online unity than Amerika at this very moment! I'm fucking exhausted.

Now let's move on to the current positive impacts of the net.

Pros:

Increased visibility and social change. There is no doubt that the internet has helped marginalized groups and increased visibility with many. Hell, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for the internet. The disabled, queer/trans, BIPOC, ethical and qualified educators, and survivors are literally changing the world behind their screens. Even just being open and honest online can provide an iota of hope for a desperate individual who is seeking community and validation. I know because I've seen it and have provided community and validation through my platform and work. I try to help at least one person a day, regardless of how small. And when someone thanks me for feeling seen and validated, I am often brought to tears. For example, whenever I feel sad and hopeless, I watch my YouTube videos because I see how many people I've helped just by sharing my stories and how I overcame my traumas [CW: SA]. I know that the internet has helped a lot of people, including myself.

People. Like Barbra Streisand said, people who need people are the luckiest people. For those who are unable to live traditional lives like myself, (disabled, solo-poly, unmarried and never want to marry, child-free, etc.) the internet is literally my world. I have about no more than 4 constant people in my real life outside of family, but a plethora of online family. I know I'm loved by people I have never met and those who I have met through the internet in real life are always a delightful treat. People are often surprised at how tall I truly am and that amuses me. I love people. I wouldn't have met my current solo-poly partner of 7+ years if it weren't for Tinder. Even though we are solo-poly, we always find our way back to each other and I think that's beautiful.

Personal growth and change. The internet has helped me see other POVs and how to respect differing opinions. It has taught me how to not use AAVE, being a better partner/friend/human, becoming a certified sexologist, and a functioning person in society. Without the internet, I most likely would have never heard of PMDD, wouldn't have seen so many different perspectives, and be ignorant on certain topics. I am who I am through the internet. I've touched many (pun intended and unintended) through the world wide web. Do I want to keep doing it? Like I said, I'm tired.

Conclusion:

Since I have renewed my website for another year, I might leave Instagram and use my website as me own platform. This'll be a major test for me next year, but I want to try. I want to be the 5-yo who dedicated themselves to stop drinking milk from a bottle even though I couldn't sleep. I want to ween myself off the Instagram, but still keep my profile. I'm not asking you to pay to see me and this is not goodbye. This isn't goodbye, but a see you elsewhere and hello to the newbies who are seeing this website for the first time.

I truly hope you stay.

Ilah Mallari 10/6/25 Ilah Mallari 10/6/25

Full Moon in Aries Writing Circle

Prompt: What emotions are being activated through my relationships? How can I be present with this without overthinking?

Oh Mommy Dearest! Like Faye Dunaway, you got away with a lot of psychological atrocities. I'm very happy that my Valium is a controlled substance so you don't blame it on me, but you still will. And that's fine. I'm willing to sacrifice a FREE trip to Europe just to be away from you. My body is physiologically fighting you by attacking my immune system through cortisol. The thing that broke my brain in the first place, leaving me crippled to limp this world without maternal love.

Please understand that it's not always about you, but I feel smothered by your constant hovering. You're like a hummingbird stuck on my (sometimes LITERAL) flower when I have no pollen left to give. Hummingbirds’ heartbeats are known to be rapid, but your heart does not beat for me AND THAT'S OKAY. I have released you, but I cannot help but revert back to old coping habits when I'm with you. Unconsciously biting the inside of my lips, drinking and eating like a rabid rhinoceros, making poor decisions, and general lack of wanting to live. My anxiety and restlessness are elevated when you are present, and it's not a gift! We're both ticking, fucking time bombs when we're in presence of each other!

So I'm stepping away, not by choice, but by emotional resistance. I've left many times during our family talks and y'all don't notice so why should I stay? Thanks to you, I am so good at goodbyes and break ups. Every time I've ended a relationship whether it was platonic, romantic, sexual, professional, I learned how to acknowledge the hurt and walk away from things that are/were no longer aligned with me. So thanks for that, I guess?

Ilah Mallari 9/24/25 Ilah Mallari 9/24/25

When The Child Becomes The Parent

Anxiety and dread would be the two best descriptors for my parent’s arrival earlier this week, particularly my unrelenting mother’s narcissism. I have exhaustedly written how my mother has negatively affected my life and psyche. She fucked me up and that’ll never go away. But when I saw my 77-year-old mother struggling to keep up with her physically disabled daughter, I won’t lie, I felt something; not necessarily guilt, nor shame, but that something changed my perception of my mother. As we were leaving the airport, I unconsciously reached for her hand, not because she’s my mother, but out of instinct. I think I know how to take care of people the way they want to be treated. I may hold grudges, but I instinctively push those feelings aside to help even someone I thought I didn’t love. Not to say that my mother isn’t a narcissist because in less than 35 hours of her presence, she has already bragged about donating, helping, and loudly praising herself for believing she’s a God for helping so many “poor souls.” Then proceeding to still undermine my capabilities despite being a grown-ass woman. But I digress…

My father looks even more decrepit since I last saw him 2 years ago. He has type 2 diabetes, an operated prostate, chronic pain from his stab wounds from a fight in the Philippines, and his memory retention/regression is more prominent. My father is also the youngest out of many, crafty as hell, loves tending to animals and plants, a nuturer, and above all, committed. He stopped smoking once he found out he was having a daughter and I became his world. I would lie to people when they ask, “what was your first memory,” because my first memory is my preceeding brother’s molestation of my young baby body. So I controlled the narrative, rerouted my neuronic wiring to choose another “first memory,” wherein my father and I were stargazing on a cool night on our tiled porch in the Philippines. I made a promise to myself that I would be more like my father than my mother and that quickly turned into a Grecian fallacy!

I told myself I would never be like my mom, but my theology was warped. My parents are flawed, but I can choose what and what not to learn from them. I can choose to not act upon my father's impulsive anger towards things he doesn't understand. I can choose upon not being judgemental to other demographics. I can also choose to be generous and kind like my father-figure brother and not brag about donating blood. My brother told our mom recently that he wants to donate a kidney and our religious mother was furious. I understand her protecting her young, but my brother sees it as the ultimate sacrifice; literally giving a part of yourself to keep another person alive. That's powerful, but my mother’s opinion doesn't make my mother a monster. She is simply protective, but I choose to protect strangers and she chooses to protect her blood. Understandingly so because we have different ideologies and that’s okay. After 30 years, I would have never thought I would be writing this with her present in the room.

I cannot express how privileged I am with generational wealth and I'm not just talking about money. My mother has always been the one to break the chain of adversity, which is why my family is mostly reliant on women. I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in hard work and my mother started working when she was 6. Imagine? The breadwinner of the family is a 6 year old selling coconuts and rice on the streets, while going to school. My privileged-ass could never! I admire my mother’s tenacity and I literally would not be here if it weren’t for her breaking generational poverty. However, I am always stumped as to why my mother chose to marry my father and vice versa. My father was raised as a city kid in Manila, while my mother was working hard to get educated in the countryside. Two different worlds colliding… how?

So I asked, “mi, why did you choose daddy?” She replied with, "because he's handsome!”

"But he has cheated on you multiple times. I wouldn't be surprised if we had siblings we don't know about, same with [insert my sexually reckless brothers here],” I replied.

She looked down with a subtle smirk, glanced at my dad's face and softly said, “because I forgave him."

I’ve always thought my mother held grudges, and don't let this fool you, she still does with some people, but not the ones closest to her. If anything, I am more like her than my uncomplicated father. I may hold people more accountable because I am more aware of what harm these people have done to me and to my loved ones, but I will forgive if redemption or change is present.

The more I observe, the more I realize that each family is its own ecosystem. The birth, life, death, and rebirth of newer and better lessons learned. My family is resilient as fuck and so is yours if you take the time to look before it's too late. 2025 has been the year of death and mourning, but that's the circle of life [cue 1994’s The Lion King]. If one is privileged enough to see the child becoming the parent, I would say that is utang na loob (debt of gratitude). I'm going to cherish, learn, and choose to keep understanding my parents until they pass. I have always said to myself that I won't cry when my mother dies. I'm not sure if that will still happen, but I'm hoping I do cry. The tears won't just be for my mother, but for the child and person she was, even after all the abuse I received from her hurtful brain, mouth, hands, and mind. After all, she was just a 6yo trying her best to help her family and how can I judge a child? That would be unfair of me.

Ilah Mallari 5/20/25 Ilah Mallari 5/20/25

The Last of Us Season 2 and Me

The penultimate episode of The Last of Us, “Future Days,” hit me so hard in the face, I am having a hard time coping.

Everything is aligning with my weekly tarot pull; for the past 3 consecutive weeks they've all been negative interpretations. Today [MAY 19, 2025], I partook in my ritualistic weekly ask about the week ahead. This third consecutive pull revealed to be a Reversed Six of Swords, indications of feeling trapped, instability, cancelled travel, not necessarily indicating destruction, but more so the acceptance of “letting go.” We cannot control, and should hold ourselves accountable for the horrible things we've done. This past Saturday, March 17th, I received a message from my nephew who was shot in the face and incarcerated. I have been waiting for this day for the past 5 years now. I knew that this was the moment; his cry for help when he literally sobbed, “America ruined my life. I had stability in the Philippines. I know I did some bad stuff and I am sorry, but I just want to be a family again.” Visibly seeing an older version of someone you took care of, guided, tried to save… my heart aches just writing this. I had to be realistic with him and said that things will never be the same and they are not to blame. I know I’m not to blame, but handling this as an adult with resources makes me feel less guilty because he is someone I’ve seen grow up. I feel guilty that I was too busy with my own shit that I didn't notice my niece [his little sister] was self-harming. I felt like I failed them; I didn't break the generational trauma. Then I thought, why should I feel guilty about my family’s values when it comes to their lack of family planning? They always claimed they reached financial stability when they had me, but I needed emotional stability. We needed emotional stability. If you aren’t going to accept your child fully or already have pre-determined plans for them, either research or find assistance because the world is constantly shifting. But some things and actions from my family are just unacceptable to me.

The opening scene showed us a [great-?]grandpa Sheriff/Officer Miller (many people pointed that out #ACAB) speaking authoritatively to an anxious, puppy-dog eyes looking, teenage Joel expecting physical punishment. Instead, we get more background on Joel’s childhood, how the effects of that event trickled down to Ellie, and perpetuating the cycle of (inter)generational trauma. “Future Days,” is not my favorite episode this season because it only solidified my beliefs on Joel: he is not a good person. I know many Joels in my family and I actively try not to be a Joel: manipulative, stubborn, and a liar. The episode is one of my favorites, but I can't untether Joel's behavior to my own manipulative family. The lying, deceit, and audacity of teaching Ellie how to lie was my last straw. I love Pedro, but I fucking hate Joel because he's selfish and wants Ellie to himself. A familiar feeling I've experienced with my narcissistic, manipulative family.

It never fails to make me laugh when my mother utters, “bahala sila sa buhay nila,” when talking about my brothers or me [or literally anyone she dislikes/disagrees with/fights/etc. The phrase is very familiar to the Filipino community, literally translating to, “they can do what they want with their life.” I find it so ironic that such an empowering phrase was meant to put people like me down; the “bad” ones, the ones who have sex and like it, go to church just to harmonize, don’t gossip, the ones who mind their own business. Not the ones who hit their partners, neglect their children, or governmental figures. This phrase has been weaponized to make us feel small because they feel very insignificant that their voices become louder than yours. Whenever I intellectually challenge anyone in my family, I'm often dismissed because I didn't get good grades because I went to college in America.

For example, my parents bought an “ionizer,” claiming it’s miraculous health benefits and how their shits are oilier because they think they’re shitting out the “toxins.” I LITERALLY MAJORED IN THIS AND HAVE EVEN POINTED OUT SOME ARTICLES ABOUT ALKALINE WATER!
They have no clue about science, how their bodies work, and it often frustrates me that they aren’t even willing to learn. Children in my family are used for money, control, and entertainment for others, not the potential for love, confidence, or even thoughts on the future.

Lastly, I'm sorry, but I had no choice in moving to the States when I was 5, why are you mad at me? I'm the only girl and the youngest, you really didn't think about the cultural shock that I would've (and did) experience? When Ellie said, “I had a purpose. I was supposed to die,” I sobbed because none of this would have happened if I was born. If my mother had the proper resources, pro-choice, science-driven thoughts, I wish she had aborted me because it's so much more cruel to bring a child into this world when you are not prepared. I am not saying that someone should off me, in fact, please don’t do that. This is not commentary on eugenics because that could easily lead down the roads to racism. Also, hi? Hello? I'm a hard-working, disabled sexologist and not a stranger to eugenics. I'm commenting on people who have kids just to have kids, people who are intentionally cruel to their offspring, and just societal thinking. I'm simply Uno-Reversing their weaponized language. I'm hanging a mirror up to a bunch of not-hot, rabies-infested, soul-sucking vampires that won't self-reflect [get it because vamps can’t see their own reflection heheheHAHAHA]. Going back to “Future Days,” I will never give up on youth like my family does. Yes, there will be times when I assert my boundaries and have walked away, but I'm always open to forgiveness when it's authentic. I do not abandon people when they need me most and that's what differentiates me from my immediate family.

Ilah Mallari 5/2/25 Ilah Mallari 5/2/25

Death and Acceptance

There have been so many deaths in my life lately that I'm finally breaking down. With the launch of The Bad Date List, I cannot help but think about my friend, Raul who trained and shaped me to be the SA advocate that I am. He died during the early stages of COVID; I knew he was disabled with a chronic illness as well, I am unsure of the diagnosis. Like a tumbleweed, spreading its trauma seeds through the wind of life, Raul wasn't the beginning. Throughout the years, death has taken all of my grandparents and my maternal uncle before I got to know them, following with: my aunt who had Parkinson's, one of my favorite cousins who had heart and weight concerns, and even our shitty, paternal grandfather who left our Nanay Conching (Concepcion) with several children! Not to mention friends and acquaintances, co-workers and colleagues, members of my communities, and even my clients. Do you recognize that feeling of, you know nothing bad is going to happen, but you're still anxious about it? That is how I am constantly feeling nowadays. I've been thinking about death a lot and reflecting on my thoughts on it prior to becoming disabled.

I remember seeing my first dead body when I was less than 5 because I was still in the Philippines; it must've been an inordinately, early memory because of my POV (it was very low). I specifically remember getting hurt from touching the coffin’s wood, attaining a splinter and didn't tell anyone. At that age, I already understood that this was not the time nor place to act out because of how sad the room felt (and my family had me trained like a dog). When it was time for us to see the body, somebody picked me up to let me see. I don't remember the face, just the essence of grief. I didn't cry, I was intrigued.

“Why are they being displayed?”

“Why are people crying?”

“Why do I feel like I want to cry?”

“Why/who are all these people here?”

“Why am I crying over a stranger?”

“Why am I here?”

[MAY 2 UPDATE: A DRUNK DRIVER DROVE THROUGH A FILIPINO FESTIVAL IN VANCOUVER] Recently, two Filipino actors passed away back-to-back within a span of two to three days: Pilita Corrales and Nora Aunor. Drag performer, Jiggly Caliente, also passed away the following week at the age of 44. Whenever a beloved Filipinx icon dies, we mourn. I've been to too many funerals where the nanays (mothers), kapatid (sibling), pinsans (cousins), kaibigan (friends and lovers), and even estrangheros (strangers). I bawled at both of my tita’s (aunt) and pinsan’s (cousin's) viewings/memorials during COVID; I even attended virtual funerals for my married ex-friends’ combined family: his brother and grandmother, along with her sister and mother. All while consuming a show with the secondary seasonal topics of death and forgiveness (TLOU).

Then I did a mental health exercise; I have always wondered if I would cry when my mother passes. I thought about her being gone and there were no emotions. Of course, this was during a specific headspace, but then I thought about my brother and cried immediately. I even said, alone and out loud, “nope. I can't. I don't even want to think about it, I won't get anything done for the rest of the day,” proceeding with tears being wiped by a paper towel. Then I started to think about my close friends and sobbed uncontrollably, but whenever I imagined my mother, the crying stopped. This is how my body feels about the person who birthed me which is not fucked up because there are just some things that can't be forgiven. She's a narcissist, unwilling to unlearn, and hates me. She hates me because I'm a free, happy woman and navigating my life how I want to live it. Her need to control me no longer bothers me, in fact, I pity her. I feel bad that she doesn't know how amazing her daughter is. How intelligent I am. She's missing out! I'm letting you go, Mi. I'm going to work on my gift for Di for Father's Day; I'm working on a cover of Big Girls Don't Cry by Fergie. I have a specific memory of him commenting on it on one of our daily commutes to 3rd grade, up until high school. I was reaching for my iPod (I still have it!) to change the song, but he intervened with, “‘wag, anak. Gusto kong kantang yan,’” [don't, my child. I like this song].

Death is inevitable, but we’ll return our life’s energy into the future.

Ilah Mallari 3/24/25 Ilah Mallari 3/24/25

Time Heals Most Traumas

As trauma work and healing expands in the world, so does time. My body forgot about my molester’s birthday and I'm so happy because it took me so long for my mind and body to heal. I didn't even remember the exact date and, more beautifully, my caretaker now knows how to talk to me about my molester. Who knew that calling out a family member almost a decade ago would prove fruitful in the present? Who knew that doing the work actually works? I'm so very ecstatic about this new version of myself. A more self-aware, calmer self. Someone who no longer experiences severe anxieties when leaving home; I am unafraid nowadays because I know my communititties have my back like I have theirs.

My caretaker got into another medical emergency — he was bit by a dog. Considering I majored in physiology, a dog bit a chunk off my lip when I was 3 (thank THEORETICAL GOD I don't have a fear of dogs), and have been bitten by so many pets, I looked at his wound and deemed it non-urgent. We don't live in the Philippines anymore and we literally live in a major city, Sa Francisco. However, he has a new healthcare provider and a trip to the ER would cost him ≈$2k. His car already got stolen, work shit, life shit, moving, and has to monitor his stress because the last time I took him to the ER, he exhibited heart attack-like symptoms. Additionally, he has to take time off in mid-April to go to drive to Richmond, only to prove my disability after years of being approved by Medi-Cal and Social Security (fuck you all, Trump dictators et. al). No longer are the days of catastrophizing because I have nothing to lie about with my disability. If they take it away, I will fight back. Mirroring my current kapwa humans, celebrating the downfall to the insignificant scum, Rodrigo Duterte.

The downfall of the former Philippines’ dictator is finally happening, along with his shameful VP of a daughter, Sarah Duterte, to get their comeuppance. My family is literally being brought together by their downfall, pointing and laughing at the Duterte supporters. Many are not surprised due to his best friendship with Trump. I am so excited about Trump's admin downfall because of Duterte's downfall, familiar feelings to music devil, Sean Diddy Combs. People are tired and fighting back. It may not seem like it, but the news only focuses on the current bad. The media rarely focuses on the good happening daily. Survivorship taught me that. We're all survivors of this goddamn planet. If you haven't experienced loss or trauma, buckle up because you will need to heal. People need to understand and reflect on their actions on others. For example, I've learned to love thy enemies (or shock them with humor and facts), more importantly, see how clownish people can be. Both in a good and bad way. I choose to be a good clown that entertains and doesn't scare people. Everyone has their own battles and we need to be more cognizant of that. Will I still get mad at people? Yes, I'm human, but I will forgive if you allow me the time and space to heal.

Healing is a major trigger word in my community and outsiders still do not know what it means. It does not mean all the pain goes away, it just fades over time, if you allow healing in. I’ve seen the downfalls of many mental healths in my stubborn, Filipinx family because it didn’t work for them. Did they actually try? Healing means doing the work, and for me, it was a lot of unlearning. Unlearning the toxic family dynamics, perfectionism, narcissism, and the audacity of my family to not listen. That’s why I’m the recluse of the family, which I prefer because I am too old for bullshit people in my life. I’m questioning if I’ll cry at my mother’s funeral, but I’ll definitely sob at my father’s. I understand that they are getting old and I have to pick and choose my battles when I’m around them, but I can still help those who my mother affects daily. She has thrown chairs at students. She thinks she is a good person, but you do not brag about your donations and being a good samaritan. Just be a good person ffs. Everyone will benefit or just shut the fuck up.

Sigh. Whether or not things will positively change, I’ll be here not shutting the fuck up.

Ilah Mallari 3/10/25 Ilah Mallari 3/10/25

My Return To The Stage

I remember learning tap dancing for a part in my high school production of The Brain From Planet X when I played the sensually, horny-for-humans, alien species. I love playing the villain because I never get to do villainous things (at least to those who don't deserve it)! In my opinion, villains always have more intricate storylines (and better songs) than the heroes of the story. They present more nuances to the protagonist, creating creative scenarios and timeless tunes like Poor Unfortunate Souls from The Little Mermaid or Friends On The Other Side from The Princess And The Frog (ironically, where the only black Disney princess is an amphibian throughout most of the movie). I still remember being devastated when my mother gave away my Disney VHS Collection that was probably worth a good amount of money. I still have the VHS tape of The Little Mermaid displayed on my plant shelf and sleep with Nala, a baby lioness my brother bought me when I was a child. Though, I am not a Disney adult and see the capitalism Disney instills, I still appreciate my Disney-ass childhood because I Won't Say I'm In Love from Hercules really speaks to my current ace/aro identity.

I realized that I am a person who never wants to stop evolving. I'm always finding myself bored when things become stagnant or monotonous. Last Friday night, I performed in front of a crowd and successfully entertained them. Listen, I'm Asian and like to succeed in the things I'm passionate about and I certainly do not perform things half-assed. However, I had to improvise my set to a linear timeline because that was the format of the show; a night of horror sex and hook-up storytelling called, “About Last Night.” Thankfully, I've never been shy and always down to try something new. It's always the anticipation of performing that makes me nervous, but once I'm on the stage, I get lost in my own world. No one else matters except for me. I'm commanding a room. It feels so powerful and that's exactly what I need right now: power within.

Performing has always been a career path in my family because my father was often an unpaid extra in a movie and then he got into the finals of a television singing competition. One of my Tita's literally looks like the classic Filipino movie star beauty, Marilyn Monroe-esque, beauty mark, elegance and everything. Alas, anxiety forced my father to dropout of the singing competition, despite being an exceptional singer (classic Frank Sinatra-like vocals and inexplainable harmonizing skills). I also experience anxiety, but I did not want to be my father, repressing my creativity due to fear of failure. I push through the anxiety and purposefully work hard to know my lines and appropriate cues. Not only those aspects, but I’m doing it for self-progress, self-esteem, self-care, and pure joy. That's the inner hard-working Filipino in me; I take performing seriously because it is my lifeline.

I've also been doing drag and am performing again at the end of the month! Tap C.(unty) Log is my altar ego (yes, that's how we spell it. The purpose is for creating freedom to try something new and to not be afraid of failing, creating community along the way), named after my childhood nickname, “Tapsilog,” a Filipino meat, egg, and rice dish that I had for the first time during my last visit in December 2023. Yo, my nickname is delicious and that's how I want my drag persona to be! If you told me 4 years ago that I'd be paid to unapologetically tell funny, traumatic sex stories, I would've laughed and cried in front of you. Now, I'm embracing this new chapter of returning to the stage! Additionally, one of the best parts is that I know for a fact that I am funnier than my rapist comedian ex because I heard more laughter at my paid gig than his sets. More incredibly, he did not pop up in my head until now. AND MOST INCREDIBLY, MI MAMA ASKED ME WHEN MY NEXT GIG IS? Of course, it is because I’m making money…

Ilah Mallari 1/27/25 Ilah Mallari 1/27/25

I've Had My Anchor Partner Since Birth

Why does society only value romantic partnerships? I've only recently realized after a life-altering event that I have already had my anchor partner for 30 years, my brother. The one who held me the most when I was an infant, taught me the good from the bad, advocated for me to our strict parents because I needed friends in a new country, and still takes care of me 78% of the time. I'm going to refer to him as Papa because it makes me so uncomfortable when I call him by his name. He was 16 when I was born, both parents were hustling to get to America in the next 5 years. My most expensive tattoo is an outline of an old photo of him holding me as a baby, paid for my swimming lessons after lecturing our parents after almost drowning at a pool party, and he paid for my entire college tuition! WHO DOES THAT? MY BROTHER, THAT’S WHO! When we had to share rooms when we first arrived here, I would always feel the safest with him. More recently, after 4 years of configuring cohabitation as grown-ass adults past 30, a floor in between has truly helped us, along with combined growth, we have finally established a peaceful, collaborative ecosystem.

My brother has always been level-headed, even during near-death experiences in both national and international adventures. He is the best out of all of us siblings, which is why I get concerned when something bad happens to him. He has no vices; doesn’t drink, smoke, gamble, but he wants to, he just knows that once a family member starts, they rarely stop. That’s addiction for ya! His self-control is truly admirable, but also worries the fuck out of me. His beloved 10yo, 1980-something white Corvette was stolen, which he never parks in our car-thief-friendly neighborhood. He rarely used that car because 1) he still cares about the environment and 2) he preserves it for special occasions! He knows how much I hate sitting in that inaccessible, loud-ass car, but it gives him so much joy [he literally reverts back to child-like behavior when he gets excited and passionate about something]. He is a 25yo in a 44yo’s body and no, it does not bother me when people say I look older, but we do not understand why? Do they not know Asian skincare? Cetaphil? Aloe vera gel? Daily face and neck (do not forget the ears) sunscreen, even indoors?
When I first heard the news of his Corvette, it was from a call from my brother, trying to hide the frustrations in his voice as he told me he was walking to the police station to file a report. We all know the kops aren't going to give a shit about some Filipino-American dude's car when they are avidly trying to eradicate the city’s autonomy. The San Francisco police department doesn't give a flyng rat about the community besides their own boiling blue blood. This isn't even the first time this city has betrayed us, but we're still here and we're not leaving because he just bought his retirement/dream property. Timely enough, my brother had intentions of leaving his Corvette at that property because of the safety issues and is also thinking about trading in his used Subaru Outback for a van (we begged our mother to not sell our first car purchase in America, a red Toyota Sienna, because we could've turned it into a camper van. She needed the money more at the time). I’m worried about his mental state and overall health because I literally will die without him and vice versa, another reason why I am shifting towards healthier options, working my ass off, and hope that I can take care of him when he can no longer take care of me.

Reflecting on the evolution of my brother and I's dynamic duo, it didn't start when I became disabled, it started at birth. HE IS LITERALLY TATTOOED ON MY BODY AND IT IS MY MOST EXPENSIVE TATTOO. We shared a bedroom until 5th grade when my family finally bought a bigger house. However, we are both Scorpios (he's October, I'm November. Interpret that however you want). He is very meticulous, I am more laissez-faire. He has undiagnosed OCD, I have had two 5150s. He has hella money, I have $800 under his name because I can't have anything over $2k in my bank account or I'll lose my Medi-Cal and SSI. He's the star, I'm the backup harmonizer. 4 years, y'all, 4 YEARS OF ATTEMPTING TO BE A DECENT, FUNCTIONING, AND SURVIVING OUR OWN PERSONAL DEMONS. But he has always been my anchor and I'm the free little mermaid who gets the agency because of her anchor. We look out for one another, protect each other, but also know that we have different POVs and can still be besties singing (he’s belting, I’m harmonizing) to Regine V. during our road trips. The first day of this year, 2025, we took a day trip to the East Bay to visit our paternal grandmother’s grave for her birthday and he cried. I may not know how he thinks or feels all the time, but I know how and when to provide space and gentle touch for him. I’VE KNOWN HIM MY WHOLE LIFE FFS.

LOVE YOU, PA!