The Uphill Climb of Redefining Your Life's Work
On the solitude of building a new life, knowing who's truly there for you, and working past the disillusions of the past
I remember when I was younger, I always wanted to be creative. If my writing messy chapters on loose yellow paper or my drawing fun comic book skits as a child were any indication of it, I probably would have become a very skilled one if I had been honed at a young age. However, I don't belong to the demographic where my family views art as a profession that provides a means to eat three square meals a day.
So scrap that, as my teenage self would say. It’s a lofty dream.
People watched Grey’s Anatomy back in the day and wanted to become physicians. I admired my mother and aspired to become a dentist as well, perhaps because I aspired to be her favorite, a goal that never materialized, despite the challenges I faced and my high expectations.
So, fast forward through 10 years of specializing in a science course. My large, fancy diploma, which, after working so hard on my thesis and finishing the course work almost twice over, sits in a dark cabinet, unframed, after having to pay a usurious fee just to have it released because the majority of dental educational institutions are corrupt in some way and constantly try to siphon money from their students. At the end of the day, my diploma serves as a constant reminder that the primary focus was not on learning or the future of dentists, but rather on profit. This depressing truth resonated with my real-world experiences, too.
After working in the family clinic, I realized that being a doctor, wearing the white coat, and touting the extra credentials at the end of my name (D.D.M., MSc.) was not fulfilling for me at all. Don't even get me started on the hypercompetitive colleagues and the unprofessional community—I'm not here to talk about that.
I’m here to talk about how life gets better when you finally make decisions for yourself. I mean, really make decisions for yourself, even if they disappoint others.
My personal limbo all came to an abrupt halt after years of therapy finally paid off, and when I discovered existentialism—the belief that men are capable of forming their own lives through their own decisions— It sounds simple, but when we really look at our lives and the way we think, we’ll be surprised to find out why we do what we do and how the world shapes our mindset. If we don't exercise caution or receive early guidance on discernment, we may make decisions in life based on the success and fulfillment of others or society rather than relying on our own values. This leads to burnout. This leads to so many existential crises in the world today.
We’ve seen it on social media; we’ve seen it depicted in movies; heck, we’ve probably even seen our friends go through it. We see 2nd, 3rd, maybe 5th generation business owners, or a family of doctors, or a family of [insert industry profession here], and we think to ourselves, “Did all of them really have the same dream?”
Chances are, the answer is no. The truth, buried in the more nuanced conversation about toxic family dynamics, is that our families shape us, whether we like it or not, and it's up to us whether we want to break free from this mold and experience life for ourselves with fresh eyes or stay in it.
Some people, like my husband, are fortunate enough to find fulfillment in their career from birth. I think they’re the lucky ones, and I’m happy for them. But for people like me—and I imagine there are plenty of people like me—we come upon mid-life, or quarter-life, realizing that we’ve been living the dream, the narrative, and the expectations of others for as long as we can remember.
When I finally put things into perspective and pushed myself to make the change, it was tough. Later on, I realized that the challenge was inevitable.
I had to cut ties with toxic family members. I had to redefine what success meant to me. I had to actively and consistently be purposeful in all my relationships, letting go of those who needed it and investing extra effort in those that were worth it.
In the whole process, I experienced (and still do experience) periods of loneliness that come with healing one’s inner wounds. For once, I am starting projects for myself. This fall 2024, I will be releasing my debut novel under the local publisher PaperKat Books. I applied to become an author or writer with the National Book Development Board of the Philippines and received acceptance. Because I did all of this for myself, it doesn't matter how much approval I get from it. I simply enjoy the process and find fulfillment in it.
While undergoing this journey, I developed a few skills: sitting with the loneliness, transforming it into peaceful solitude, and learning to observe who consistently shows up for me, whether emotionally or physically.
I've learned to distinguish between those who show selective support, or tout support, but don't truly mean it, and those who genuinely support me, even if they don't understand what I'm doing. I discern this through their behavioral patterns, a crucial life skill that I only acquired later in life. It was enlightening to realize that for a considerable amount of time, I had expressed concern, affection, and loyalty to individuals who did not share my perspective, resulting in a simmering source of resentment that I was unaware of. I initially believed that my work lacked quality, but I've now come to understand that my support system is inadequate.
Since then, I've resolved to do one thing to let that resentment go: invest in the people who invest in you.
It’s been tough; yes, it has. You've had to let go of family members you thought had your best interests in mind, and you've endured incredibly foolish and inconsiderate remarks from ignorant individuals who impose their own definitions of success on you.
Today, I reap the benefits of asking questions, seeking my answers, and doing the work necessary to build a life I don’t need to escape from. I’m happily married because I learned how to distinguish walking red flags through therapy and practice (both overt and covert ones) and artfully dodged them after so many failed relationships. As a result, I have a present, loving partner, with whom I have a beautiful daughter and another baby on the way. I also have kind and loving in-laws who put all of their dramatic portrayals to shame.
I write—I finally write for myself, because I want to.
I have stopped working as a dentist because I fucking can.
I surround myself with people who are good for me, who see my potential, and who love me for who I am—not despite my flaws, but because I am who I am, flaws and all.
Yes, I am grateful to the universe, as well as to God. But I am most grateful for myself—for doing the work, for not being stagnant, for betting on myself, and for constantly making decisions that benefit the life I want while fighting for it.
It was a long time coming, but I can say on my own that I am worthy, that I deserve everything I have today, that I am enough and have always been.
More reading material if you are interested in Existentialism is the book It’s On Me by
Books I am reading: A Tempest of Tea by Hafsah Faizal and Bookshops and Bonedust by Travis Baldree
Currently watching: Itaewon Class on Netflix
Getting into dressing up more before I start my day.