By Gabriel Bernales
I lit up my last pasirit as the clock struck 12:00. I shouted boisterously to embrace another new year, but once the flares lost their spark, I still felt empty. Is it because of a deafening silence of isolation, or a comfortable distance from feeling?
Let me tell you about New Year’s Day—not the version that constantly tells you there is a brand-new, refreshed, and purposeful version of you waiting for another year to get your gears started.
I mean the actual day. We witnessed it quietly after anticipating the festivities. I woke up feeling vaguely unwell, even though I didn’t drink that much—just two glasses of dry wine that my mom finally took out from her dusty cabinet. There was a pang of emptiness that pierced my soul.
I’m so caught in my head that I want to speak in a room that does not want to echo. A thought rang through my head: another additional year is a reminder that I need to do something extraordinary with my life.
I kept saying to myself, “You’ll never lose the race because there is no race to begin with.” Yet, I feel I am juggling the gap between knowing what I want and the societal pressure of achieving success. Please, I’m only 22; there is so much more hiding from me, just waiting to be found.
There is always a soft hum of a question that boggles me: who am I, really? Every year, I ask myself that because I sometimes become a mosaic of other people’s expectations—especially regarding the resolution to “start something.” I fancy the idea of a slow-burn continuation of oneself, but with growth.
Every year, we think deeply: “Am I doing the right thing?” or “Did I make the right decision?” But the point is not to choose what is perfect for others. Even though it is scary, the magic of a choice is bestowed by you.
It is a bittersweet symphony; sometimes the good times reach a screeching halt. But sometimes, that halt can lead to self-reflection and the strength to continue to rise above it.
Your fate is bestowed upon you. You have the utmost power to change or even transform what lies ahead. It’s scary, but the fabulous part is that you get to experience it.
