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.
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.
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.
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…
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!
ILAH AND HER BROTHER AT THEIR GRANDMOTHER’S GREY HEADSTONE [MIDDLE]. RIGHT SIDE: ILAH IS SMILING WITH TEETH AND HAS ON A PINK, FLUFFY BUCKET HAT, SUNGLASSES, FRONT PARTS OF HER HAIR ARE GREEN, BUT MOST IS BROWN, LIKE THE FLUFFY + BROWN JACKET. LEFT SIDE: ILAH’S BROTHER IS SMILING IN A GREY BASEBALL CAP WITH A RED LOGO ON THE CENTER, GLASSES BUT YOU CAN STILL SEE HIS EYES, AND A CAMO GREEN COAT. BACKDROP ARE OTHER VIBRANT FLOWERS WITH GREY/BLACK HEADSTONES.
Achievements and Lessons of 2024
Out of the 13 written goals I had in the beginning of 2024, 6 were accomplished, but many more were also completed, such as becoming a novice en español. My biggest, getting certified, was officially in June after my final payment. Paying my way through my dream career is probably my biggest achievement of my life, besides staying alive! I don't think it has really hit me yet because I have been in the sex industry for over 5 years since I graduated from Sex Coach U from their 15-month sex coaching and business program. To be honest, I only needed to do the business part and certification as a sex coach and I do believe there are more options for future students as SCU is constantly and internally evolving. I will add that it is always better to go into a certification program that you’re already interested in and know a lot because it is very time-consuming and a lot of fucking work, even as someone who minored in human sexuality during my undergrad (CURSE YOU, SF STATE, FOR ALLOWING FOLX TO MAJOR IN HUMAN SEXUALITY STUDIES AFTER I GRADUATED. STOP ASKING ME FOR MORE MONEY).
That being said, after watching Anora and reading the lack of intimacy coordinator on set, this made me think of starting a new career path. As I mentioned in this video, I haven't done much research into becoming an intimacy coordinator because I know people in the acting industry/LA peeps (in general), but I really don't want to move to LA. Then I remembered kink.com is based in San Francisco, and thought, “do I really want to do this [pay for more training] again? I do know people in the industry.” Am I going to be in school forever? Do I want to be in school this year? No, because I want to save money, meet my Internet friends, have my first IRL workshop, and join a comedy and music group. Last year I spent a lot indoors because of the lack of energy and income. This year, I've already walked around downtown, went to the East Bay to see my Nanay Conching (short for Consolation) and drove by our first home in America, our old corner apartment. My brother and I reminisced on the times when we were the weird immigrants who brought a bucket for soaking our clothes in (babad) and going back and forth between our apartment and the laundry room. Looking back at my 2nd grade self staying in an apartment that I thought was huge because I was tiny, watching the stove and TV (placed on top of the box it came in [oh the early 2000s…]), I can definitely see echoes of my family's habits in me. I definitely want to continue these habits: weekly cleaning, walk breaks, doing things manually, discovering meditation in cooking, and truly maintaining my mental health over everything. That's probably the biggest thing I learned in my 20s, I am no help when I'm mentally incapacitated, even more so than my physical pain. I can push through the physical stuff, but I've lived with mental illness long enough to know when I am of no use to others. Maybe that’ll be a new endeavor in my 40s!
Boundaries or, simply excusing myself from a situation, is so impactful. I lost 2 of my best friends last year and I did so much self-reflection, peer coaching, journaling, asking for advice from those who know the 2 people and those who do not know them at all, and finally realizing that life is full of relationship fallouts. It is a subject my brother/housemate talk about all the time; why don’t we have friends? We do, but everyone is scattered around the globe and we’re all busy adults. AND THAT'S OKAY. As long as we are intentional, understanding, and accountable and learn from our actions. The world is full of many people! I'm likable, witty, honest (if asked with consent, can be brutally honest), and charming, but I don't tolerate bullies or people who use me anymore. I will no longer give time to those who gaslight me into feeling bad about myself or only want a transactional friendship/relationship. I’ve even cut off ties my nephews who are adults because they are exhibiting the same abusive, cheating, and manipulative traits. I’ve mourned them and they can come back when they’ve changed or truly seeking for help to change. I'm too tired and old for drama; I am not my mother. I'll observe, shut the fuck up, or intervene if there is a possibility of harm to others. THAT'S IT.
Last year was all about healing and managing my mental health. This year, I feel a new grasp on life, despite what the news always portrays. I recently talked to my niece in the Philippines who just turned 16 and is an expecting older sister to a little brother. I asked if she was excited and she told me she was because she has always wanted to take care of a younger brother. Sound familiar? One of my nephews has a January birthday and I asked his older brother what he likes now (no contact until he's 18 because he's the child of my molester). He sent me this picture. Why are Legos so expensive now!? Shit. Why is happiness so expensive!? It took me a decade to manage my traumas and triggers, learn how to navigate life and sneaking around the Amerikan government, not care what others think of me, and have the energy to love life. Despite all the obstacles, my goal this year is to monthly make a positive change with how I think about money, in any way: donating, supporting a small biz, volunteering, attending smaller shows, and just not being such a homebody. I am capable of living my life outside my home and the internet, whether it’s alone or not. I am literally a human cockroach, but clean!
A Part of My Inner Child Died Watching Lea Salonga Perform Live
Imagine this -- the youngest and only girl of 4 older brothers, throughout her Filipino life heavily identifying with Disney characters like Mulan and Jasmine. A newly 5-year-old US immigrant, dramatically navigating the struggles of growing up with a fast-paced, high standard and high achieving family, while learning and navigating two cultures. Reflection was my go-to song whenever I felt small around my family and I sang it a lot, usually ending up crying in the shower (one of my few escapes as I shared a room since 2006). Part Of That World by Jodi Benson is my most relatable Disney song because I grew up fantasizing about escaping my complex family. Looking back, I was emotionally, physically, and mentally abused by my narcissistic mother. I know that if abortions were legally and morally accepted in the Philippines, I wouldn't exist and a lot of my childhood was full of not wanting to be born.
I'm grown now.
Then I saw Lea Salonga live this past Saturday and it was the worst professional concert I've ever attended. I need to look into the genetics of singing, but I know an off note when I hear it and I'm only now realizing how dangerous this gift is to a music lover. Lea Salonga is no longer my Disney princess because of how bad her performance was. I understand that she is human and singers have their off days, like any job. However, as a Tony-award winner, I don't think you should read your spiel from a teleprompter. Lea, you're a Broadway star! You couldn't memorize your set when you've been doing theater since you were 7 and known for perfect pitch? My brother and I were sitting at the final standing ovation and heard all the praise during our 13-min wait for our Uber. We had to silently and unhappily stand there listening to people talk about how amazing it was. We talked in the Uber and was shocked at how much praise she was getting. “Ang galing (how amazing),” “iba talaga si Lea (Lea is definitely different [from the rest]),” and people comparing her to Mariah Carey (no diss to Mariah, but I only like ‘We Belong Together,’ so I was offended). We even gaslit ourselves by thinking, “are we crazy? She was off a lot,” then we realized that we would be shunned from the Filipino singing community if we ever posted this on Facebook because toxic fans who can't handle criticism of their faves without being brutally harassed online.
I can't separate the artist from the art, I recently realized. We're currently in an era of adults learning about the consequences of their abusers. As the internet kids get older, we’re learning more about the abuse of power. After the child SA allegations of Michael Jackson, I can't hear his music the same way. Same goes for Bill Cosby, Letitia Wright, Leonardo DiCaprio, Justin Timberlake, Mila Kunis and her husband, Ashton Kutcher (RIP to That 70s Show too). Those are just a few of so many celebrities and artists that I no longer wish to support. Which is why I pivoted to the mentality that celebrities are just glorified normal people. I've seen so many videos of people singing amazingly and they don't even want fame; we just sing because we love it! Let's face it, Hollywood is incredulously mediocre! Besides some big-budget gems, independent film companies, and POC musicians, most of them don't compare to other countries’ entertainment standards; a lot of Western music has black roots too (I'm talking to you, Mr. Elvis “culture-vulture” Presley). I've consumed my most diverse music content in the past 4 years; with the rise of international artists like Jessie Reyes, Bad Bunny, Kali Uchis, Stell and Pablo from SB19, and even some heavy metal music from my Canada road trip with my OGs since 03. I even enjoy casual to intricate instrumentals, including the subgenre that is bardcore. I love music! I cannot go a day without singing!
I reconnected with one of my brother's ex girlfriend when she found me on Instagram after going through the healing process of her break-up for the past 2 decades. I don't want to share her story because I promised her to not let anyone in my family know. This reconnection couldn't have been more perfect because I saw Lea and a slew of famous Filipino music royalty and artistry on her feed. I messaged my brother's survivor about my excitement of Lea and she told me to let me know what I thought. I shared and she mentioned some things going on in Lea’s life that may have affected her performance. As aforementioned, I understand that life will life. However, I would've preferred to have seen transparency and vulnerability at the very beginning from Lea, in order for me to fully understand why the performance was so mediocre. Either explain to your fans or cancel the tour.
On the other hand, mental health is heavily misunderstood, especially within Filipino communities. I also understand that Lea Salonga has no obligation to explain herself and I respect that. Though, I'd like to point to the little girl in 2000, crying in the shower after being bullied by my own family, and I cannot help, but feel disappointed. I have every right to feel this way and mourn that part of my inner child. Lea Salonga and I both have valid feelings, but there's still a power hierarchy; she has more resources and I don't. My brother was lucky enough to buy the tickets in advance for a much cheaper price and they were great seats. Lesson learned: I will not go to concerts for my favorites anymore unless they are explicit about the expectations of the concert. My heart cannot handle it and now I must repair my inner child’s broken heart.
How is the theme of “surrender” showing up in your life?
*This was originally a journal prompt, but I figured it’d make for a good blog entry.*
Surrendering doesn't always have to be a bad thing. In fact, I would say the theme of my 20s was surrendering. To me, surrendering provides us with new experiences; it's power within. I don't see my traumatic 20s as “bad,” but as life lessons I can pass down to lost youth. For example, I wanted my 30th to be stress-free because I am one anxious hoe, and I am so happy that my friends communicated to me well about self-care. I ended up spending time with a human that I love and who I feel safe with. I had to deeply deprogram my toxic concepts of love such as: fate/destiny/one true love, everything that media shoves in our sensory inputs, and, quite simply, communicating. We need to have these hard conversations, when our bodies are properly regulated; another one of my surrenders was becoming a trauma response and recovery specialist because I crave everflowing knowledge. I think the pandemic really changed how we interact with others, which led us to having a celebrity as a president (America is slowly becoming the Philippines and that scares me. The pandemic has led to a disconnect or divide, and become less empathetic to others. Do you know how many times I've fallen since my last fall post? A lot because I can't even recall the amount of bruises. How many of those times did people stop to help me? Only in queer, POC spaces.
I'm part of the problem too! I spent my early 20s angry and depressed because I was still trying to surrender to my disabilities. I am not a fan of the word “regrets,” I prefer “life lessons.” I hated straight, white men after my SA from Luke Moore before the pandemic. I kept fucking them, but I hated myself for it. It wasn't until I met G who reintroduced me to kink and BDSM and we were besties for at least 2 years (oof, the older you get, the more you do forget) and that's a story for my book, but let's just say that G really showed me my love for sex and power dynamics. Which leads me to my current partner, 111 (I want them as anonymous as possible). We have known each other since 2018 and have only recently realized that we've only fucked less than 5 times over the span of 5-6 years. Now, we are finally in a place where they live walking distance from me. Don't get me wrong, I still love my space, but surrendering myself with ease to them felt so natural and safe. My concept of love has been so warped, from the teleseryes I watched when I was a kid and being Filipino. We're a very romantic culture; one of my favorite songs is “Harana” (serenade) by Parokya Ni Edgar. Think of it as Romeo declaring his love and Juliet is looking down from her balcony. According to The Asian Journal:
”Harana, as the song introduces, is an old Philippine tradition of courtship in which a man bears his heart in song to a woman (and sometimes vice versa), while standing underneath her window at night.”
By being with 111, I learned to surrender to any kind of love that I want in my life. Love is intentional and takes effort; like a plant that needs water, soil, repotting when the roots start to poke out the pot, and constant care (plant mother for almost 5 years now). I also learned a lot of this passively through my surrendering to knowledge.
I love learning, and to be honest, I believe I will never stop learning. It's a privilege to be educated. My mother surrendered her entire life to fulfill the life that she wanted for her family now; happily retired in the Philippines with my father (they go on weekly dates) and she is living her best life. This woman can drive in the Philippines, but is too anxious about safer American roads where she learned how to drive!? She's very independent and privileged to still have my mother, I cannot ignore her hatred and disappointment in me because of my life choices. I recently surrendered to her narcissistic ways, including my brother/caretaker/housemate’s similar triggering traits: vocal tone, reactionary and defensive, cocky, and for two CPAs, where is the accountability?! For the past 4 years, my brother and I have balanced each other out and have immensely improved our communicating skills, but sometimes, the inner child in me gets scared when he reverts to our mother’s traits of narcissism and I am left feeling small. Isn’t that life though?
One should never have to feel unsafe in their homes/communities. Therefore, dividing us, the people of the United States of America, the place where my parents thought we'd have a better life.
I am my family's resilience.
I have helped my communities and will continue to be better.
All of my life experiences have led me to surrender myself to others as a sex coach and trauma expert.
I am capable of knowing when I need rest so I can keep going.
I will never stop until, hopefully, I am an old, happy hag surrounded by the children I helped raise and the people I love.
To surrender is to rest up before the battle begins.
Goodbye 20s, Hello 30s! TAC Is Leaving Social Media?!
As my 30th birthday approaches, the more my priorities are shifting. If you asked 20-year-old Ilah to get off Twitter, you couldn’t claw her HTC One (M10) smartphone [RIP to phones that do not conveniently get glitchy after a newer model is released]. I haven't been on Twitter since Elon Musky Monkey [no offense to our fellow primates, bonobos and chimps] bought it in October 2022. I did not have a problem leaving that platform because I barely had a voice on Twitter, but, nevertheless, it was where I initially outed rapist; Luke Moore. Someone from SFUSD contacted me through Twitter which led to me writing an affidavit on my sexual assault in 2019. Ultimately, I succeeded because I do not see his name in any comedy shows and I have not heard news from him since. So what's stopping me from deleting my Instagram? Time to make a pros and cons list!
PROS OF INSTAGRAM:
Instagram has been a reliable source of income for my main affiliate, Unbounbabes.
I've met a lot of people there that I (have or) intend on meeting in real life.
I've established my brand.
I've been chronically online since I was a child. Neopets, anyone? Is it finally time to leave?
More time for real world events.
MORE TIME, IN GENERAL.
CONS OF INSTAGRAM:
CENSORSHIT! I'm tired of all the workaround and extra work I have to do just to get my content seen.
Comments section is always garbage.
So celebs can get away with nipple pics, but my World Sexual Health Day post was flagged, even with “World Seggsual Health Day,” because the bots are getting developed by a bunch of scared ignoramuses?
I pay for ads, but all I get are creeps.
Most of my current clients didn't even find me on Instagram. They found me through local communities and most of my consistent clients identify as queer, kinky, and mentall-ill Asian womxn (even at work, I cannot escape myself).
Loss of tallasianchick leading to possible compromise of mental health due to a social media-heavy world we live in.
More isolation?
My content is limited to my followers so what's the point if I won't be seen by new eyes?
Bots, scammers, folks with bad intentions, and the constant disrespect/harm by white women and men.
I’M TIRED, EXHAUSTED, DEPLETED, AND, QUITE FRANKLY, FEEL LIKE I'M LIVING IN AN EFFETE WORLD WHENEVER I'M ON MY PROFESSIONAL INSTAGRAM.
So here's what's going to happen next; I will have tallasianchick deactivated until the end of the year. If I decide I can be successful without it, then I won't return. Or maybe just have it active as a business account and use it for just business and follow the rules, even though I hate these fucking rules. Or I could continue to use @tallasianchick, but I won't be myself anymore. The money is there, but the people aren't. It's time for me to leave the house and advertise myself offline for a bit.
Happy 30th birthday to me (November 1, 1994)! This next chapter of my life is going to be experimental as fuck and I'm going to be alive for it whether I'm online or not.
Life Maintenance (lately)
I'm at a point in my life where I feel stagnant and bored which are both terrible for me. I tend to partake in harmful behaviors like drinking alcohol on a Monday morning or sleeping all day. Currently, in my menstrual cycle, I'm in my luteal phase and for those who don't know; that's when my negative thoughts intensify due to PMDD. Boy, oh boy, do they intensify. Even if I'm feeling great during this cycle, I've had many “good times,” only to follow up with 3 consecutive cycles of pent up cortisol, only to be in surplus in 1 to 3 cycles. What's cortisol? It's our primary stress hormone.
My stress management has evolved throughout my life, adjusting to various stressors. My healthy stress management began when I started going to therapy and I was looking into cannabis use for pain relief because I did not want to take pain killers due to their addictive properties and had expressed my fears. I wasn't as research-heavy back then (this might have been the flip of a switch) as I am now; I will literally sit with and analyze my body, go onto Google Scholar, and find relevant articles and studies based on my specific concern. Medical professions have failed me in he past, causing medical trauma, and additional stress. This is what I do for work, so why can't I apply it to myself?
Stress management is simply life management because living is stressful right now, especially for marginalized groups. With the various genocides in countries (yes, including the USA because of its mass shootings and Slave Patrol, excuse me, I meant to say the modern day kkkops), and the 2024 election around the corner, I'm legitimately starting to hoard food and turn our crawl space/basement into a bunker. We already have first aid kits, hella bottled water, fire extinguishers on each level, my emergency latch through my street-level window, my brother has his emergency ladder on his hot ass balcony, and we even have an emergency car tool if our vehicles were to ever be in a body of water. Hell, we don't use ring cameras; we confuse our threats! I purposefully do not want to get an electronic ring camera door bullshit because that shit is hackable, annoyance through a stick wedged between the door and the tiled stairwell should deter any possible harms. But there's still one stressor that I can't avoid: people.
I'm extroverted… when I want to be.
I'm introverted… when I need to be.
I'm afraid of other people because of what I see in my everyday life and the people closest to you are usually your abusers and, in my case, specific dates are really fucking triggering. Curse this memory of mine when it comes to a specific times, dates and a difficult memories around fall. It’s called “fall” because I’m literally falling down an endless spiral staircase through the 30 years of my life thus far, passing through endless hurt, numbness, tears, and anger.
I'm debating whether or not to tell my now-18yo nephew who I have considered my surrogate son, and have a constructive conversation about what his father did to me. I’m hesitant because I truly felt nothing when I saw him at the graduation. Lastly, my nephew is about to start college and I do not want to add any stressors on him because he’s also dealing with his first heartache. I an only guide him from here on out and not force anything on him like my family did to me, except an emphasis on respecting women because theoretical God knows the men in my family are bafflingly abusive. Additionally, I cut off my eldest nephew because he wasn't accountable for his physical abuse towards his ex-girlfriend (like father, like son even when the father was absent. So upsetting). I'm also really close to cutting off my nephew who was shot in the face because he also hasn't been accountable and doesn't want to listen. I think I’m done? Am I? You would think with the number of accountants in my family, more accountability would be present. No, my caretaker just started saying please and thank you after almost 30 years of my existence. I’m not done, but I’m fucking exhausted by the unwillingness to heal.
As I said in the beginning, I get so bored easily, which is dangerous. That's why I'm leaning so hard on my communities because they've literally kept me alive. I don't want to keep people in my life who don't want to make the effort to be in it. I want reciprocity in terms of basic human respect. I use “I” statements in order to not put blame on the other parties. I have lost many friends and peers because of having tough conversations that need to be had, and they have failed. I'm tired and grown; I literally do not have the time, nor energy anymore. Time is the most important thing we have and I will choose and continue to choose who I spend my/our limited time with. This ain't my first rodeo; I analyze my friendships through annual reflections. Were they there for me when I was 5150ed? How do they act towards me and my disabilities, despite openly sharing that I know when to ask for help and expressing my internalized ableism? How do I know that you’re not going to ghost me? I respect and require brutal rejection so I can pass this hurt faster. I only have around 2-3 close friends now and I'm very happy with that because these bitches* are going to start their families within the next decade so I'm ready to be the sex positive Tita!
* I have their consent to call them bitches. I figured I did, but wanted to make sure because of the trauma of my most recent middle-school bestie break-up. TRAUMA.