Thea's Truths & Thresholds

Tag: Philippines

  • When You’re the Afterthought: Family Estrangement, Public Stories, and Finding Our People in the Philippines

    When You’re the Afterthought: Family Estrangement, Public Stories, and Finding Our People in the Philippines

    I came across the article about David Beckham leaving his son, Brooklyn, out of his 2025 year-end recap post, only to share throwback photos of him hours later. When Brooklyn was left out of his father’s recap, only added later, it reminded me of what it feels like to be remembered as an afterthought because that’s how his message came across to me. Maybe even for optics. If he wanted to honor all his kids, he would have included Brooklyn from the start.

    This hit close to home because I know what it feels like to be the one who gets left out or remembered only as an afterthought—if I would even be remembered or included. For years, “echa pwera (to be excluded)” was a recurring theme in my life with my family of origin.

    *****

    I know I’m not the only one navigating this. Looking at public figures helps me remember and reassures me I’m not alone.

    I cheered on when Prince Harry and Meghan Markle stepped away from the royal family because of deep-seated issues—racism, lack of support for their mental health, and pressure to maintain an image over their well-being. They chose to prioritize their own family and healing, even when it meant letting go of traditional ties.

    Here in the Philippines, we saw the same with celebrity Sarah Geronimo. She didn’t invite her mother to her wedding, and while some criticized her, many more supported her choice. It was a big moment because it showed our culture is slowly starting to understand that “family first” doesn’t mean staying in harmful, abusive, and traumatizing situations.

    And as for me, I didn’t decide to step back from my birth family on a whim. I started distancing myself from my siblings when I was in my mid-40s, and from my mother a few years later. I’m now in my 60s. My father passed away several years ago. After our parents’ separation, my siblings and I had been estranged from him, too, for a long time—his choice, not mine.

    I was the one who spoke up about things that needed to change. The truth teller. The cycle breaker who tried to break harmful patterns that had been going on all throughout my childhood and adult life, even for generations. It wasn’t easy, especially in a culture where “utang na loob (debt of gratitude)” is often used to pressure us into staying quiet or putting up with things we shouldn’t. But I knew I couldn’t keep sacrificing my own mental and emotional health.

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    No one chooses to walk away from their family without a good reason. It’s a decision that usually comes after years of trying to make things work.

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    I know there are others here in the Philippines who are going through the same thing, or something similar. Maybe you’re the one who had to set boundaries, or perhaps you’re the one who was pushed away. Either way, it can feel incredibly lonely.

    Healing takes time, and it helps to know we’re not the only one on this path. Our well-being matters, and our journey is valid—whatever that looks like for us.

    I find it encouraging to come across recent articles that signal a cultural shift in the Philippines — a willingness to speak more openly about the once-taboo topic of family estrangement and the choice to go no contact:

    Why More Filipino Millenials Are Walking Away From Family Obligations: When family duty becomes too heavy

    Looking for respondents for research on Filipino adult children estranged from their parents

    Calling for participants for a research study that aims to explore and understand family estrangement experiences among Filipino adults

    Filipino & estranged from your family? Especially this [holiday] season?

    Addressing Toxic Behaviors in Filipino Families | #YourMindOurMovement

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    I’m glad not only to see the topic being discussed more openly, but also to see resources becoming accessible for those navigating such a difficult path. When I was contemplating this decision decades ago, there were hardly any materials to turn to.

    A few years back, I considered starting a support group. For now, my focus is on my own journey. Still, I want to offer a space for connection if you feel the need — a place to share reflections or simply be heard.

    I write under a pseudonym to protect my privacy, and I take confidentiality seriously. If you are or you know someone navigating family estrangement or struggling to set healthy boundaries, and you’d like to talk to someone who understands the cultural context we’re in—you may email me at theasjournal25@gmail.com  

    There’s no pressure to share more than you’re comfortable with. You may also share your reflections in the comment section below—whatever feels right and safe to you.

    Even if we’ve been treated as afterthoughts or misjudged for prioritizing our mental health and well-being, we can choose to center our own healing.

    Peace and Blessings,
    — Thea 💙

  • Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Redefining What Matters

    Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Redefining What Matters

    For a long time, the phrase “don’t sweat the small stuff” felt hollow to me. It sounded like bypassing. Dismissive. Like another way to excuse what should never have been excused. In my family, in systems that tolerated abuse, in environments that mistook generosity for obligation — those were never small. Those were patterns. Naming them was not oversensitivity; it was clarity.

    Now, in this quieter chapter, I see where the phrase actually lives. It never belonged in places where dignity was eroded or truth had to be swallowed to preserve appearances. But it does belong in how I move through relationships and daily exchanges — where discernment, not erasure, is the measure.

    Friends and Family

    With friends, I notice the difference.

    Claire, with whom I recently reconnected, is someone I can meet at depth, and she meets me there, too. When she didn’t call me back after saying she would, I felt the sting. Her later text about “peace of mind” landed tone‑deaf, and I caught myself bracing. But when we spoke again, the conversation was supportive and real. Because Claire consistently meets my clarity, I can choose to let go of her misstep. There are more substantial gifts her friendship brings, and I won’t make a big deal out of a missed call. That’s small stuff.

    With my family of origin, it was never small.

    There was a pattern of abuse and dysfunction. The time came when I no longer felt compelled to play the rescuer or victim in the drama triangle. I embraced my role as the truth‑teller, and that clarity cost me, but it was structural truth.

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    Neighbors and Community

    The same with the condo community: entitlement and disrespect weren’t lapses, they were patterns. Patterns of abuse. That required fire.

    And yet, not every neighbor is the same.

    Jean has shown she can meet me at depth, even if my family estrangement story is foreign to her. Fatima, on the other hand, cannot meet me there. She is not malicious, and she cares in her own way, but her bandwidth is limited. I accept what she can offer without overextending myself. That’s discernment too.

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    Cultural Terrain

    Even in cultural exchanges here in the Philippines, I’ve seen how politeness can mask avoidance. Hiya (shame), indirectness, palusot (excuses) — they surface daily. Naming them doesn’t mean it needs to be met, addressed, responded to, or even apologized for. Sometimes the truth lands in silence, sometimes in discomfort. Either way, I no longer carry the weight of how it is received.

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    From One Extreme to Another

    In the corporate world, I wore the armor of title and leverage. I was often labeled mataray (feisty) or masungit (grumpy) — sharp, exacting, unbending.

    When I left that world, I overcorrected. Without positional power, I softened too much. I tried to become endlessly accommodating, mistaking self‑abandonment for humility. I lowered my voice, my expectations, my edges. At the time, I thought that was peace. Later I understood: it was erasure. Self-abandonment. Self-betrayal.

    Now I stand differently. I am no longer a boss, but I am still sovereign. I don’t need the armor, and I don’t need the overcorrection. What remains is discernment: fire for patterns, release for noise, acceptance for limits.

    The Reclaiming

    So I no longer confuse peace with silence, or anger with truth, or tolerance with wisdom.
    It keeps me from saying yes when I really mean no.
    It protects me from doing what isn’t mine to do — a reflex of my deeply ingrained rescuing pattern.
    A pattern that, thankfully, I was able to finally overcome only recently.
    My fire is ethical, not emotional.

    This is not numbness. It is grounded strength. Quiet authority. And for the first time, it feels like peace that does not ask me to shrink myself in order to exist.

    Not sweating the small stuff is a call for discernment — a practice of peace with integrity. It means I don’t shrink. I discern, and I choose.

    In the next entry, Everyday Discernment, I’ll share more examples of how this practice shows up in daily interactions — from service lapses to community exchanges — and how cultural values shape the terrain I navigate.

    If any part of this speaks to you, I invite you to share your reflections in the comment section below.

    Peace and Blessings,
    — Thea 💙