<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At 26, I had it all figured out. I was newly married and had just been given a big job in the Fortune 500 company I was working for. Clear timeline, bulletproof plan and unwavering confidence in exactly how my life was going to unfold. I was going to be CMO, married to a husband with perfect pecs, raising two kids (1 boy and 1 girl for the pigeon pair) while living overseas — climbing that corporate ladder in designer red-soled heels while maintaining flawless work-life balance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fast forward to 52, and my 26-year-old self would take one look at me and think: “What the hell happened?”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Here’s what would horrify her:<\/p>\n\n\n\n I Got Divorced<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “But he can flex his pecs! And everyone said you looked perfect together!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I married my first husband because he could do that impressive pec flex and he made me laugh. Twenty-six-year-old me thought that was enough. Fifty-two-year-old me knows that the right partner doesn’t just make you laugh, but also gives you peace. It’s not about looking good together but making each other better. The divorce taught me what I actually wanted in a partner — someone who loved and accepted me for being myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I Don’t Have Kids<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “But the timeline! The plan! What about being a model mom?”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n At 26, I thought the natural order of things was… “first comes love, then comes marriage, then of course the babies in the carriage!” But to be very honest, deep inside, I wanted a husband but I didn\u2019t want children. It took me a long time to say that out loud for fear of being shamed for being that woman who didn’t want to be a mother. Not for any other reason but that it wasn’t for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As it turns out, while motherhood was not my calling, being a lola<\/em> is. Now that my stepchildren have kids, I get to be the silly lola<\/em> that sings nursery rhymes on cue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Being the fun grandmother without having gone through the sleepless nights, diaper changes, and tantrums? Not the worst plot twist. I get all the joy with significantly less stress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I Never Made It to the C-Suite<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “But that was THE plan! You were supposed to break glass ceilings and become the first Filipino CMO of a Fortune 500 company!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I spent nearly 30 years climbing that corporate ladder in those red-soled heels, believing the C-suite was the ultimate prize. These days, I wear sneakers everywhere as I’ve realized that I’d rather be literally and metaphorically grounded than elevated any given day. I discovered that not only are some ceilings not worth breaking, some rooms aren’t worth being in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “I’ve since learned that the biggest success isn’t becoming the best at what you’re supposed to be, but fully coming into who you really are.”<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I Came Back to the Philippines<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “But we were supposed to be international! You were supposed to be living your best expat life!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n At 26, living overseas was the ultimate status symbol — proof you’d “made it.” My plan was to conquer the global corporate world, collecting passport stamps and international assignments. Coming home felt like admitting defeat, like settling for less than my ambitious dreams.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here’s what I couldn’t see then: returning wasn’t retreat, it was reclamation. I came back not because I couldn’t succeed elsewhere, but because I now have a different definition of<\/em> <\/em>success. Home stopped being the place I needed to leave behind and became the place I wanted to grow into.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not just a balikbayan<\/em> but a full-fledged pawikan <\/em><\/strong>\u2013 born on the beach, ventured out into the vast oceans, and eventually returning to the same shore<\/strong> –instinctively, purposefully, to give life to something new.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I Left My Corporate Career to Start Again… at 52<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “Are you insane? What about security? What about the pension and the prestige? You worked so hard to get there!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Cancer at 49? Not exactly in the life plan. But here’s what 26-year old me couldn’t possibly understand: cancer became my strangest and best teacher. It showed me strength I didn’t know I had and perspective I couldn’t see before. I left the full-time grind so that I have the energy to focus on my health. At 52, I’m essentially starting over. And it’s the scariest and most liberating thing I’ve ever done. Turns out, the bravest thing you can do is rewrite your story when everyone expects you to stick to the script.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why This Is Perfect<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Here’s what my 26-year-old self couldn’t possibly understand: every single “failure” on her perfect plan led me exactly where I needed to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The divorce taught me what I actually wanted in a partner. The corporate journey gave me skills and confidence I’d need later. Cancer showed me my own resilience. Menopause is teaching me wisdom. And the unexpected blessing of grandkids are giving me profound joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At 26, I thought life was about following the script. At 52, I know life is about writing your own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My younger self was so busy planning the perfect life that she couldn’t see the beautiful, messy, unexpected one that was actually waiting for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So yes, 26-year-old me would be horrified by my choices. She’d think I’d given up, settled, or lost my way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But 52-year-old me? Especially on this particular day, my 52nd birthday, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What would your 26-year-old self think of you now? Would she be proud, surprised, confused? Whatever her reaction, I hope you’re living a story that’s yours, not just the one you were told to follow.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"At 26, I had it all figured out. 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