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.
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?
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.
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.