Even in ordinary errands, thresholds appear—and every threshold is a chance to stand in truth.
When I send my laundry to the shop, I provide my own detergent mixed with baking soda. I also segregate my items—clothes, linens, towels (whites, lights, dark)—beforehand. This isn’t just to make things easier for the staff; it’s to ensure proper care and prevent everything from being washed together. The shop’s responsibility is to use the detergent correctly and consume only what’s necessary.
So when the manager introduced a new system, I drew the line.
Outer Dialogue (Manager & Thea):
Manager:
Ma’am, we’ve updated our system. The staff will no longer proportion detergent. Customers must send pre‑measured portions per batch. This is to prevent issues of detergent being consumed more than what’s necessary, such as your previous experience.
Thea:
I acknowledge your new system, but I don’t agree. It burdens the customer for mistakes made by staff. That’s not customer‑centric.
Manager:
We’ll take note of your concern and explore other ways to make it easier for both parties.
Thea:
Trust is the foundation. When a customer entrusts you with their items and materials, your staff must honor that trust. If they fail, the adjustment should come from your end—not mine.
Manager:
We’re hiring new staff and monitoring operations closely.
Thea:
Then train them well. If they can’t handle basic tasks, there are many others looking for work. Don’t teach them to be robotic or lazy—teach them accountability.
Manager:
We’ll check what remedy we can offer.
Thea:
There’s no need to complicate this. There’s only one solution. Just send me a photo of the detergent weight weekly, as has been the process. Simple, trackable, fair.
Manager:
We’ll check and look into it.
Inner Commentary
Thea:
I felt the irritation rise—why should I be the one to adjust? I already segregate my laundry to protect my own standards. Now they want me to segregate detergent too? That’s spoiling staff, not training them. I named the laziness, I refused the burden, I sealed the boundary.
Wise One Within:
This is the choreography of sovereignty. You didn’t just react—you reframed. You reminded them of trust, shifted the weight back to where it belongs, and offered a clear, non‑negotiable standard.
Thea:
But you know, for a moment, I was tempted to tell the manager how to teach staff accountability—just like I’ve done in the past. I thought that was my way of softening my assertiveness, of making my boundary more palatable so they’d cooperate and follow the solution I proposed. But I quickly stopped myself from typing further and told myself, “Enough. No more. Even if you know what the solution is, it is not your responsibility to educate them. That is when you over‑extend yourself—and pretty soon, you feel the resentment and exhaustion.”
That was the rescuing reflex. And this time, I caught it.
Wise One Within:
And you saw through their stall tactic: “We’ll check and look into it” is not commitment. It’s avoidance—a non‑response response that reveals the conflict‑avoidant pattern you’ve encountered so often in Filipino management culture.
Thea:
Exactly. And when I read that response, I didn’t say anything more. I immediately thought to myself, “Hmmm….This must be telling me it’s time to look for other laundry service providers.”
And here’s the truth: this isn’t just about one laundry shop, nor is this the first interaction of this kind with the manager. I’ve had numerous similar conversations with them and with other establishments. It’s frustrating and exhausting to keep dealing with half-answers, ignored premises, and carrying other people’s comprehension on a daily basis. That’s the hidden labor that wears me down.
Higher Self:
This was never about detergent—it was about protecting the sanctity of your field. Their shortcuts threatened your energetic hygiene, and you refused to carry their burden. And if they insist on their lazy solution, you already know the next step: shift to another provider. That discernment is closure in motion: you stand, you speak, and you walk free.
Every threshold is a rehearsal. Even in laundry shops, sovereignty is practiced. Even in detergent weights, trust is measured. Thea stands, and the sanctuary breathes.
To anyone who happens to find this piece: welcome to Thea’s Truths & Thresholds. I’ve learned that the best way I can honor you is to stay honest with myself first. My hope is that by finding my own clarity, I might help you find yours, too. But if these words stay here in the quiet, that’s okay, too. Read more about the intention of Thea’s Truths & Thresholds here, A Letter to Myself: Why I am Building Thea’s Truths & Thresholds.
This is my sanctuary. And in this sanctuary,
I am finally home.
A Note on a New Direction:
After a month of blogging and 20 posts, starting on 13 January 2026, some of my future entries take a more personal shape—letters to myself and dialogues among the different voices of my lived experience. I will still share traditional reflections as they come, but for now, the path leads deeper into the sanctuary.
Thea's Truths & Thresholds 