My Hair Journey to Self-Acceptance

They say a woman’s hair is her crowning glory though sometimes it felt more like my clowning glory. Looking back, my hair has mirrored nearly every emotional shift I’ve ever gone through. It was never just hair. It was identity, rebellion, change, and sometimes even a silent cry for help.

Back in school, I kept my hair short most of the time. Every time I came back from a haircut, my teachers would ask, “Heartbroken ka ba?” I wasn’t, but I guess a drastic haircut tends to give that vibe. I liked my hair short it felt light. My mom said long hair made you look older, more mature. Whenever I tried to grow my hair out, it always felt off. I’d see other girls with their long, flowing hair and think, they look beautiful. Then I’d look at myself and think… Does this make my face look fat? Maybe it was just in my head, but it stuck with me.

I tried to grow it out a few times, but boredom always won. And weirdly, every time I cut my hair, the guy I liked would disappear or start pulling away. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe my subconscious already sensed the ending before I did, and my hair was my way of cutting ties.

They say when a woman cuts her hair, she’s about to change her life. I believe that. The first time I ever cut my bangs was when I was around three or four years old. I’ve been cutting them myself ever since. It’s become a little ritual. A way to reset or feel in control again.

In 2023, something in me shifted. I cut my hair short again, brought the bangs back, and bleached it into a bright champagne blonde. It was bold. It felt like a rebirth. But deep down, I wasn’t okay. I was chasing brightness on the outside because I couldn’t feel it on the inside.

I went through a full-blown identity crisis that year trying to figure out who I was by constantly changing how I looked. I bought color-depositing conditioners and dyed my hair a different shade every month. Pink, violet, green, blue, orange, brown (that turned back to orange). It was fun… until it wasn’t. At one point, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, Wow. I’m literally falling apart. My hair was damaged, dry, breaking. And maybe I was too.

By the end of the year, I dyed it jet black. Strangely, it felt like the most honest version of me. The hair was brittle, sure, but it felt right like I was finally showing up as who I truly was. Not trying to hide anymore.

Around that time, I lost someone. And it hurt. But strangely, the grief didn’t last as long as I thought it would. I thought I’d be stuck in it for years, but I found peace within a few months. And that’s when I realized I had grown stronger. I had changed.

Now, whenever someone compliments my old blonde hair, I smile. But internally, I remember the version of myself who felt the need to dye it that way. Who wasn’t okay but didn’t know how to say it. It reminds me that sometimes, the most beautiful phases on the outside can come from the messiest parts of us.

Today, my hair is still healing some of the tips are dry, but the roots are strong. Just like me. I’m letting it grow out again, but this time it’s not out of boredom, or heartbreak, or a desperate need to escape. I’m just letting it be.

And I’m learning to let myself be, too. A sign of growth.

Snails, Spirits, and Superstitions

Today I had a weird and terrifying dream and I knew instantly I had to write about it while it’s fresh. Before I forget the details.

I was walking toward the dining table, where my sister and a few unfamiliar people were already seated. There were empty seats, and I was about to take one across from two women I didn’t know. One of them looked distressed, like something unseen was bothering her, her head was down while the woman beside her looks like she’s trying to comfort her. The air was heavy, thick with something invisible but undeniably there. A bad spirit. We all felt it.

Just as I was about to sit, my sister stopped me and said: “You have to cut your leg before sitting down.”

What?! She didn’t mean literally cutting my leg for sure, so I asked what she meant. She gestured for me to trace a line across my leg with my finger. I didn’t fully get it, but I sat down anyway. While I’m about to fully sat on the chair that’s when I felt something heavy like something like a big bird perching on my right shoulder. It’s not visible but I feel its claws on my shoulder and feel some of its feathers. In my imagination it was a grey dark bird that doesn’t really look like a bird but it has feathers like a bird but its figure doesn’t really look like a bird. It looks abstract. Then I thought it was the spirit. I’m not sure if its the one disturbing the woman or a different one.

I felt panic. My sister, told me to do it again properly this time. I followed her instructions, drawing a firm, deliberate horizontal line across my right leg before sitting down and the weight lifted.

The spirit is still around. It lingered even when there were snails scattered around us. Snails that, for some reason, we believed had the power to ward off evil in that dream.

Then someone in the table mentioned that keeping a snail as a pet was a sin. Maybe that was why it wasn’t working. I remember my nephew found a snail outside their house and decided to keep it as pet. Was that the flaw in our protection? The reason the spirit wouldn’t leave? I can’t remember what happened after that maybe I woke up.

After waking up, I started researching if the dream meant something. Some parts in the dream were also interesting like a nice concept for a book or a movie maybe.

I had never heard of snails being used for spiritual protection, but on my research it turns out they are. In some Asian cultures, they symbolize resilience and cleansing. In parts of Africa and the Caribbean, they’re used in purification rituals. European folklore links them to warding off misfortune, while Buddhism associates them with protection. Christianity, on the other hand, often depicts snails as symbols of sin rather than guardians.

Then I searched for anything about “cutting legs before sitting down” and found eerie parallels. In the Philippines, people say tabi-tabi po before sitting to eat to avoid disturbing spirits but even if I’m from PH I’d only ever heard it used in forests or near anthills. Some traditions believe failing to follow certain rituals allows spirits to perch on you. In Japan and China, marking the ground with a foot gesture or tool can sever a spirit’s hold. In some European and Afro-Caribbean traditions, foot movements prevent spirits from attaching to a person.

As someone who likes watching horror and supernatural films it’s so interesting to me. It could all just be a strange meaningless dream but what if my brain tapped into something ancient? What if our subconscious holds memories older than we are? things we once knew but have long forgotten. That sounds cool yet scary at the same time. Either way, the next time I sit down to eat, I might pause for just a second 🤣.

Unfinished Ending Or Tragic Ending?

Years ago, I watched a movie that left me with a question, one I still haven’t quite answered. Which is better: an unfinished ending or a tragic one? I don’t remember the title of the movie. I tried searching for it, but nothing looked familiar but I think it was about a girl who dances ballet. It was popular on Netflix at the time, which is why I watched it, though I remember not particularly liking it but I liked parts of it especially the ending.

My memory is unreliable, so forgive me if I get the details wrong. What I remember at the end of the movie is this: two characters, standing at the edge of a building. They were torn between killing themselves or leaving to start a new life. The latter one was just what went in my mind haha. I was at the edge of my seat waiting for what’s gonna happen next. I’m also torn on which would be the best choice for them and for the movie as a whole. Then, just as it seemed they would step forward, the screen cut to black.

I felt relief as the ending credits rolled. A real, physical kind of relief, as if by cutting to black, the film had spared not just its characters but also me. Although it seems like they’re going to jump when the movie ended, it still leaves a possibility that they changed their minds and chose to live. The relief I felt back then after how the movie ended was my answer. I’d rather choose the unfinished ending than continue even if I knew that the ending will more likely be a tragedy. I’d rather not know than witness something tragic. For a movie I think it’s a good choice cause it leaves a room for interpretation and hope. You get to decide how the movie ends for you.

But is that the right choice? If you know, if you are 80% sure that a story will end in tragedy, do you still want to watch it unfold? Or do you leave before it happens? Even now, I still wonder: am I being practical, or is it just avoidance? Is it better to know, even if it hurts? Or is it better to let the story remain unfinished, existing in the space where anything is still possible?

And if we apply it to life, would you pursue something you know won’t end well, or would you walk away and live with the weight of what-ifs?

Luck Conservation

Do you think that it’s possible to spend luck? While I was playing Love in Deepspace, I came across the fascinating concept of luck conservation, thanks to Xavier.

I looked into it more, and the idea is that luck can be used up or spent. Once you use it up, misfortunes starts happening. It’s like if you experienced a lot of good things in a row, you should be careful after that because the universe might send something to you to restore the balance. There’s even a name for that fear: Cherophobia. It’s the fear of being too happy because you believe something bad will follow. It’s like having trust issues whenever you feel extreme happiness. I used to feel and notice that when I go out with my friends. When I get back home, I’ll have this feeling of unease. I would prepare myself that something bad would happen and eventually something does goes wrong. But was it really bad luck, or was I just so convinced that happiness had consequences that I started looking for proof?

The thing is, luck conservation isn’t real, at least, not in the way we think. It’s a mindset, a superstition we convince ourselves of to maintain a sense of control. In believing in it and in trying to prepare for the worst, all we really do in the end is rob ourselves of the actual moment. We don’t allow ourselves to feel too happy because somewhere in the back of our minds, we’re already bracing for the bad things that might happen. We dull our own joy, as if keeping our happiness at a level will somehow prevent the universe from sending misfortunes our way. But the truth is, life doesn’t work that way. The good things don’t require bad things to follow. Sometimes, happiness is just happiness, and by constantly anticipating the worst, we end up missing the best parts of it. And what a waste that is.

Not Everything is Meant to Be Posted (Including This?)

Do you know that satisfying feeling when you discover a really good song that no one else knows? It’s like finding a hidden treasure that you just want to keep to yourself so you decided to not share the song with other people. That’s what they call gatekeeping. I think most people do that to protect the magic. Recently, I realized that it doesn’t just apply with songs. You can gatekeep yourself too. Turns out, I’ve already been doing it… though mostly out of laziness to post anything. But just this week, I decided that it’s time to fully commit to it. So, as step one of my self-gatekeeping journey, I made my Instagram private. HAHA.

We live in an era where oversharing is the norm. Every thought, every meal, every interesting life update was captured, documented and uploaded on social media for the world to see. It’s fun and a good way to record your memories and thoughts. But like anything in life, too much of it is never a good thing.

Every time I post, I catch myself overthinking something like if the caption sound weird or if people will find it funny or cringe. Before I know it, something as simple as sharing a photo turns into a mental dilemma about how I’ll be perceived. Aside from the risk of sharing a personal information that might land in the wrong hands, social media also has this weird way of making you feel like you’re curating a character instead of just being. The more I put out this polished version of myself, the more I feel like an imposter in my own life.

So, I’ve decided to gatekeep myself a little. Keep my life mine. You don’t have to share everything. If you also want to do the same, a simple way to start is to post on delay. Sometimes, you might even forget to post it and realize you didn’t need to share it in the first place. Be a little mysterious; you don’t have to share your every move. It makes life feel less performative, and honestly, there’s something nice about keeping parts of your life exclusive. 

Of course I’ll still post, but I don’t feel the pressure to reveal everything or think about other people’s opinion. Some things can stay personal. Maybe I’ll just share the random weird, stupid, or chaotic things instead.

Am I Overthinking or Did I Just Unlocked the Secrets of the Universe?

It’s scary how my brain sometimes loves to throw me into a full existential spiral especially before I go to sleep. I don’t know if this will make sense to anyone, but it made sense to me at the time, so here we go.

The other night, I found myself thinking about this theory I learned months ago. It’s a concept that says that if you want something badly, it might be because your future self already has it. Or if you feel drawn to a certain place, maybe it’s because you’ve been there or that it will have a big impact to you in the future.

A Japanese phrase captures something similar Koi no Yokan. It describes the feeling you get when you meet someone and just know they’re going to be important in your life. Not in a love at first sight kind of way, but more like a this is going somewhere kind of way. Instead of an instant spark, it’s the quiet certainty that love will grow over time, which I think is really beautiful.

That made me wonder, what if our fate is already predetermined? Do we have no control over it? Or maybe we are just choosing from different versions of reality? It’s comforting to think that in some version of life, we already have everything we’ve ever wanted. Right? That the things we desire aren’t random.

If that’s true then that may also mean that time is not linear, that things has already happened, or maybe every moment is happening at the same time and we’re just experiencing it in a way that makes sense to us.

Despite that, I’d like to think that it’s still up to us to carve our own path. It’s still up to us to align our present timeline to that timeline where we have everything we’ve ever dreamed of. Our desires are just glimpses or messages from our future self guiding us to what’s possible.

Speaking of possibilities, let’s talk about Schrodinger’s cat. It’s an experiment where a cat is put in a box with a 50/50 chance of being dead or alive. The cat exists in two realities at once, dead and alive until you open the box. Only then does one possibility become real. That’s kind of how life works, right? There are countless possibilities and realities existing at the same time, but it can only become real the moment we make a choice or decide to align ourselves to it.

I really believe that if you act like you’re already the person you want to become, you start aligning with that version of yourself and that leads me to another concept I love: the Pygmalion Effect also known as the self-fulfilling prophecy. It’s basically the idea that whatever we believe becomes true because we subconsciously make it true with our actions or the energy we give out. For example, if you think that someone dislikes you, you might unconsciously act in a way around them that makes them eventually dislike you. Not because they ever did in the first place, but because you made it happen. It’s lowkey terrifying how much our thoughts can shape our reality.

If our thoughts hold that much power, we might as well just think about something good right? That reminded me of Carl Jung’s synchronicity. It is the idea that reality responds to our energy or inner world. Maybe there’s no such thing as coincidence. Maybe reality responds to us by reflecting back whatever energy we put into it even how small it is.

It’s kind of like the butterfly effect. The idea that even the tiniest action can set off a chain reaction that changes everything. Have you heard about a butterfly flapping its wings and somehow causing a hurricane? It sounds dramatic, but honestly, it makes sense. Life works the same way. Choices, even things that feel insignificant in the moment can add to something that may completely reshape our lives. That made me wonder how many small decisions changed the course of my life without me even realizing it. Even the tiniest decisions like taking risk, following a gut feeling or choosing kindness can create ripple effects far beyond what we can see in the moment.

The butterfly effect naturally lead my mind to another fascinating concept that has a ripple effect. It is called paying forward. I first learned about it from the book I recently read entitled A Culture of Happiness. It talks about generosity and how it creates happiness not just for others but for you too. Something as simple as paying for a stranger’s meal could start a chain reaction of kindness that eventually comes full circle. Unfortunately, negativity works the same way. Just as kindness multiplies, so does harm. The energy we put out into the world always finds its way back to us.

And that, of course, brings me to karma. What you put out into the world eventually comes back to you, even if it’s not immediate. A genuine act of kindness creates positive energy, while actions rooted in negativity bring consequences. And honestly, that’s why I don’t believe in revenge. People who act out of malice usually end up self-destructing on their own. Instead of wasting energy trying to “get even,” learn to transform the negativity into something positive or something meaningful. Use it as fuel to create, to grow and to build something good.

Maybe that’s the whole point of all of this the universe isn’t just happening to us; it’s responding to us. Your thoughts shape your actions and your actions shape your reality. Every little thing you do matters and it all feeds back into the grand design of life and even the universe. And that is kind of insane! And here I am at 2 am on my bed, overthinking my entire existence instead of just going to sleep.

The Pink Diamond Theory: Knowing Your Worth and Finding Peace

I recently listened to an episode of Hot and Unbothered that completely shifted my perspective. It introduced something called “The Pink Diamond Theory” and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Here’s how the story goes:

A man finds a rare pink diamond and gives it to his daughter. He tells her to walk through their village and ask how much people would offer for it. She goes to the baker first. When he asks for the price, she silently holds up two fingers. “Two dollars?” he says. He knows it’s worth more but assumes she doesn’t. So he tries to lowball her. She says nothing, and moves on.

Next, she goes to the antique store. She holds up 2 fingers again when he asks how much it is. The antique store owner goes, “200 dollars? Nah, not even close.” He doesn’t see its true worth and is not even willing to pay that much. So, she leaves again.

Finally, she takes it to a jeweler, and when he sees it, his eyes light up. She holds up 2 fingers again when he asks its price. He says, “2 million dollars? That’s a fair price.” He understands the value of the pink diamond and is ready to do whatever it takes to possess it. The girl didn’t sell the diamond to the people who didn’t recognize its worth. She waited for someone who truly saw it for what it was. And that is the lesson.

You are the pink diamond.

There will be people who can’t see your worth. Don’t argue. Don’t shrink. Don’t beg to be understood. Just walk on until someone recognizes your value, effortlessly and without question.

This story resonated with me so deeply, especially after everything I’ve been learning (and unlearning) this past year. At the end of 2023, I found myself craving peace like it was something physical something I needed to touch. Around the time The Eras Tour movie came out, I made friendship bracelets with Taylor Swift song titles to give to my friends. For myself, I made one that said Peace. It wasn’t just a favorite song anymore it became something like an intention. A quiet reminder.

I wore it for months.

And then one day, in August, I stopped. Not because I forgot, but because I didn’t need the reminder anymore. I felt… settled. I no longer needed it to remind me of peace. Like, “Whatever happens, happens. I’ll be okay.” I started seeing everything as a temporary experience something I pass through, rather than something I have to grip. I’ve learned to accept and let go of things because I realize I don’t own anything in this world. Everything is just an experience.

It’s like that Adventure Time scene where Betty tells Simon, “You were a wonderful experience.” and Simon says, “You are everything.”

I used to hate that moment. It felt too final. Like, why couldn’t they change the ending? Why can’t they change things or pretend and make their own happy ending? But now, I see how deep and beautiful it is. It’s about accepting things as they are. That kind of acceptance is its own kind of freedom.

So after hearing the pink diamond story, I bought myself a pink gemstone ring. It felt symbolic. Something to wear until the “jeweler” arrives. Until someone sees me clearly. And even if no one ever does, I’ll know what I’m worth.

And I won’t settle.

Burning for Candles

Let’s rewind to the pandemic, when people can’t leave their homes and the world turned into one big Rapunzel montage. You know the one: painting the walls, brushing your hair, ventriloquizing your pet? Somewhere in that blur, I promised myself I’d try every hobby in that Rapunzel song. Candle-making made the list.

So I bought everything: soy wax, wicks, tiny jars. But as life crept back in (as it does), the supplies got quietly pushed into a corner. Then one fateful day, the power went out and I can’t find any candle at home.

Survival instincts kicked in. I dug out the dusty supplies, dropped a wick into a glass jar, put the wax and just like that, I had candle. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. I remember sitting there, smugly admiring my janky creation flicker in the dark like I had unlocked fire itself.

Of course, I promised myself I’d take the whole hobby more seriously and make real candles someday. (Spoiler: I didn’t.)

But here’s the thing, candles still fascinate me. I want to try making all the fancy ones: scented candles, succulent-shaped candles, carved candles, and even painted candles.

Speaking of candles, can we talk about how magical it feels to receive one? Last Christmas, I got a candle as a gift (it came with a lighter), and let me tell you, I cherished that thing. I’d light it during my nighttime skincare routine, meditation, or stretching sessions. It burned for weeks. I still haven’t bought myself a candle since. I’ve added a few to carts, sure. But buying one feels different than being given one.

My candle obsession, I think, goes way back to my childhood. Whenever there was a storm and the power went out, I was that kid who sat there watching the flame like it was a portal to another dimension. I’d play with the dripping wax, shape it into little balls, burn a strand of my hair, and even try to pass my finger through the flame like I was some kind of magician. Candles and fire always felt so…mystical.

And then there’s all the weird candle lore like, why do you need a candle to summon Bloody Mary in front of a mirror? Why do witches light candles for their spells? Why do we use them for graves, memorials, and ceremonies? It’s like candles hold this ancient, mysterious power that we all just accept without question.

I’ve done my research and apparently, lighting candles is thought to cleanse negative energy and bring positive ones. I guess, that makes sense. A flame can change the mood of a room faster than a playlist.

Anyway, I could ramble on about candles forever, but if you’re as curious as I am, check out this link for more fun facts about their history: https://candles.org/history/

Who knows? Maybe one day, that spark of candle-making will reignite in me. Until then, I’m happy just basking in their glow. ✨