this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on February 18, 2003.

I will not apologize. Neither will I seek pity. I have been blessed with so much. And although my life has not been all rosy, it has been rich with color, tears and laughter, highs and lows. I am alive, and I thank God for that. I don’t intend to make excuses. I just want to tell a story.

At twenty-something, I am alone. I cannot say that it is really by choice, for given the choice I would have preferred to spend my life (though I myself am not certain if I want to spend it forever) with this man who until now seems to be a fleeting dream. His is the image that haunts me. Somehow there but never really willing to linger.

It’s rather funny, but the people around me, well-meaning as they are, tell me to get hooked up already because I am not getting any younger. And after considering that I have a flourishing career, the doomsayers predict that the higher my income bracket becomes, the fewer my choices of a mate will be.

Statistically, there are more women than there are men. (Although last time I looked in the Inquirer, there were actually more men than women in the Philippines. But yes, Virginia, do they suffer in quality? Pray tell.) Older, accomplished men prefer younger women. And though I am not about to refute all these, I will not allow these conclusions to prevent me from living a full life.

My day job is lawyering and my other passion is teaching. I also write. Between all these, my very supportive nuclear family and my many circles of friends who all know how to party, I am certain I do live a full life. Perhaps richer than most people can claim.

I am not an angry feminist. God knows, people who do not know any better have likened feminism to “women bitter about men.” Please. That does not only reflect a limited view of the world but it smacks outright of bigotry. I think the feminists are doing a great job at pushing women empowerment. I commend them. But as I said, I am no feminist-angry or otherwise.

I am human, though. And more than anything else, I am woman. I feel. When I laugh, when I cry, I laugh and cry with all the passion in me, living and breathing.

I want to celebrate myself. This is who I am. I can take care of myself but I would not shy away from strong arms that would be willing to take care of me-once in a while. I can foot the bill for a fancy dinner but it would not hurt if I were made to feel special by someone by footing it for me. I love (have loved) with teeming, uninhibited passion and I am not (never have been) sorry for it. But more importantly, I can be alone with my soul, and drink in silence just thinking, without being afraid.

Yet people look at me as if I were hiding behind a false bravado. They try to figure me out and think I couldn’t be happy the way I am now. They cannot understand how an accomplished career woman like me can be happy when I am alone, when nobody fetches me in the office or escorts me to dinners or parties. It is beyond their comprehension that I can take a cab alone at night, with my pepper spray in hand of course, without whimpering in fear for my safety. I may be different from everyone’s idea of happiness, of completeness, but I am not necessarily fictitious. I just am.

I confess: One day, I hope to bear a child. Carry that life in my womb, beneath my heart and nurse it from my bosom. I yearn to carry that life in my arms and sing to her (or him) about life and love. I will wish for her to grow up unafraid, undaunted as the trees that blossom from the earth. I will show her love and the beauty of life despite the pains.

I have yet to meet my baby’s father, but with the same certainty that I knew I would pass the bar exam, I now know providence will lead him to me. In the meantime, I will continue to flourish as a person, do the things that make me tick, excel in my endeavors. And party-sometimes.

The one thing I have learned thus far is that it pays to discover the freedom that laughing at myself brings. It does not mean I take my life and myself less seriously than others. It simply means being able to sit back, look at my imperfections, take my lemons with a grain of salt and tell myself that crap happens to the best of us. Then move on. I know for a fact that while I may have lost a few battles I have not yet lost the war.

If providence chooses not to interfere, there is always science. Hey, man landed on the moon a long time ago. Getting knocked up can’t be that hard. After all, I did pass the bar. Anything else should be easier.

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