Anie Writes: 2015

In Ahh Life, Personal

Thirty Today: Kissing My Twenties Au Revoir

Alternate Titles For This Blog Post:

What About 30 Is So Scary?

In My Head I’m Already Fifty

We’ll All Get Old, Deal With It

Aversion To Ending Your Twenties Is So Overrated

Thirty Is The Real Adulthood, Kids!

People Will Start Taking You More Seriously At Thirty

‘Ain't afraid of the walls, I'm a break 'em down’ – a line from the song ‘RuleThe World’ by Walk Off The Earth that pretty much sums up how I feel about turning thirty. While nothing magical really happens when you turn thirty, I couldn’t help but slipped into a contemplative mode for hitting such a major milestone.

This whole growing up thing is comely incredible even for someone who’s already grown. I think it’s beautiful and nothing, not even that extra little wrinkle that comes with aging will ever freak me out. To me, this shift into a new decade is more than just about looks. It’s not so much about accomplishments either because when it comes right down to what truly matters, nothing beats personal growth. Thirty is not a seamless age but it’s a fantastic time. There’s an outpour of self-realizations, noting all of the lessons, trials, triumphs and breakthroughs I’ve accumulated from the past decade as surge of confidence and appreciation knocks you and changes everything.

Now newly thirty, what seems scary to me before, it isn’t anymore. I still haven’t figured everything out entirely, but I’m a heck of a lot closer than I was at twenty. I think about all the things I thought were a good idea in my twenties and just cringed so hard with embarrassment, like, ‘why, Anie, why?!’ Yet the foolishness, frustrations as well as the constant challenges, all helped define a character, a skill, confidence and patience. I didn’t exactly wake up with a head full of sage wisdom but there’s an intense sense of focus and clarity now. The wandering stops, the restlessness is over, opportunities passed, mistakes are made, the rest are bs and along the way, you learn to trust yourself more, discerned your calling and see that time is truly limited. Though I don’t have forever, I certainly still have the present to allow me to take a path I haven’t yet taken, a better path that I’m still in good shape to try to take as I finally put the beautiful, the reckless, naivety of my twenties to rest. After all, I’m thirty now. I WILL live like it.

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, by Anie Ordillo

In Pixiecut Adventures,

Haircut Epiphanies and the What-Nots

I stood upright in front of a full-length mirror with an overwhelming feeling that was both strange and unfamiliar I hardly recognize the face as my own. It was the longest time I've ever gazed at myself without flinching. I ran my hand through the silky undercut stubble of my pixie hair once more and disorientation seemed to finally wear off. With a round hairbrush, I combed back my hair on top to reveal the razored section in all its stubbly glory. I looked at it for several more minutes, staring at my reflection from different angles before I allow myself to trust my own judgment of what I'm seeing. And with some hesitance, I admit, I love the way I look. Never mind the high cheekbones, weak jawline, enormous head and nose that seemingly covers 75% of my face because the insufferable voice of Amy March in my head saying, “Your one beauty!” was finally silenced. I am enamored with this version of me who looks bolder, sort of hardcore and daring than I’ve ever been, almost a perfect pixie cut synthesis of Scarlett Johansson and Pink if I may say so myself. {Cue feels} {Insert face with stuck-out tongue and tightly-closed eyes emoji}

After almost five years of rocking a pixie cut, I considered growing my hair long again but that was until a dear friend sparked the idea to go pixie ala-Scarlett Johansson {Oscars 2015}. Being open to trying new {wholesome} things and so willing to add a little variety into my life, I thought, why the heck not! And so I did and now, I don’t even know if I’ll ever want long hair again. There’s a sort of transformative power that comes from this do as it matches my insides way better. They say there’s some kind of epiphany that happens when you get a new haircut, if that is the case then mine would be: my one claim to prettiness doesn’t solely rely on my hair anymore and how I look does not necessarily change who I am and what's inside.

Last week, I went to get my undercut re-buzzed, this time by a barber, using 2 guard haircut length. I run my hand through the stubble of my pixie hair again and thought, next time, I’ll surely go for #1.

P.S. I'M STILL STRAIGHT :P

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, by Anie Ordillo

In Heck Yeah Teaching,

A Fond Adieu

“Miss Anie! Miss Anie!” exclaimed the several students approaching me all at once, folders and pens in their hands.

I gave them ‘the look’ and without further prompting, the kids formed a line and one by one, clearance forms were being handed to me. I cramped my fingers up, clenched a pen and in slanted cursive, I signed my initials, N.G.O, that looked everything less than a scribble.

Last day of school always takes me back to the beginning of the academic year and wave of nostalgia sweeps over me without delay. Emotions, pure and almost naïve, were all too distinct and though the classic INTP in me safely packed it away, it was there and it was strong.

I look back at the stressful moments this school year with great fondness and thought about the many ‘firsts’ I had the opportunity to do while in a non-teaching post, one that toughened my skin as an individual and allowed me to grow as an educator. It was a challenging ride no doubt, but it was also something I truly relished. Already, my mind is thinking about the next academic year, getting thrilled at the thought of new learning and new plans but somewhere along that great anticipation, there’s a hint of sadness because just like every single year, last day of school also involves a lot of goodbyes.

There’s an assumption that teachers can’t seem to wait to kick their students out the door fast enough as soon as March rolls around so we can finally plunge into our two months off for summer and hit the beach. If people only knew.

Of course we are ready to let our students go but not because we want to get rid of them. We are ready to let them go because we know that they are more than ready to meet the next challenge ahead of them. This goes out to our dear graduates who are set to move to bigger schools next academic year and those who will embark on a quest called college. We stood behind a podium on Friday to called out their names, watched them receive their diplomas and walked out of our lives. It hurts to see one chapter ends but at the same time, it is exciting to see a new one starts because it should. I’d be worried if it didn’t. I just hope that somewhere, deep inside, they will carry the things they learned in HFLC when they were put in an environment in which they have to practice respect, obedience, solidarity, perseverance, excellence, kindness, among others. I pray that all those moments we insisted on empathy, commitment, teamwork and passion would forever be engraved in their hearts. And if they can pass the very same values to the next person who comes along in their life someday, what an awesome thing would that be.

Tenth Graders, Class of 2014-2016

The school will miss all of them. More surprisingly, I WILL SURELY MISS ALL OF THEM.

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, by Anie Ordillo

In It's An Aunt Life,

What My Niece Made Me Realized

Sunday night began with a very late dinner in bed, Sofia The First: The Floating Palace playing on my Mac. Lori and I were already on our ‘night mode’, pink and purple tees and pajama pants that fit us just right. I promised my 2-year old niece that she could jump on the bed as much as she’d like come nighttime but she was already petered-out. We just got home from the hospital where my sister-in-law gave birth to a 6lb, 3oz and 20 inches long adorable infant via c-section. Dear Lori is now an Ate {Filipino word for big sister} to her baby brother, Trevor, the tiny, delicate, spitting image of his big sister whose arrival had every one of us floating all week.

As planned, Lori spent the few days at home while my sister-in-law recovers from the dreaded c-section. It was our first overnight stay together and sure, I babysit her all the time but I felt a particular kind of terror that ensues from the thought of caring for her overnight. It was her first time to be away from her parents and with all the changes that are happening since the arrival of her baby brother, Lori is extra clingy and a little needy, so babysitting gets a tad complicated.

One fine morning when a chill breeze was blowing, I took Lori to work, her little soft hand wrapped tightly in mine.

“You seem quite set for motherhood!” remarked the school canteen keeper cheerily as Lori and I headed for a table near the counter.

I took a deep breath. I would’ve just shrug and give a totally noncommittal response but instead, I let out a confused laugh. One of those laughs you make when you just had a ‘what-the-heck’ moment. I let out a confused laugh because I can’t think of a good response to that comment. I let out a confused laugh because for the very first time, I was just realizing how abstract my perception of motherhood is. I always knew it equates responsibility and responsibility that great scares me. Three full days with Lori got me into super aunt mode that included extensive dancing {needy toddler gotta sleep!}, Sofia The First marathon, bath time drama trouble-shooting, homemade play-dough-making, deep negotiations at meal time and nap time, storytelling, endless pretend play, among others and suddenly, simple quiet moments became all that I yearn for. There’s a level of maternal instinct in me that automatically kicks into gear when I’m surrounded with kids, but at that instance, I found myself burdened, overwhelmed and was about to lose my sense of self. I can hardly keep a plant alive, you know? I was absolutely scared. Lori didn't come with an instruction book but luckily for me, instincts and common sense helped me get by. I did my best anyway and that is what I can control. For this, I learned how to trust myself more.

Wednesday night, Lori finally went home to be with her parents. That evening, I’ve rehashed in my head the first sights of each mornings I had with my niece and felt happier and relief for the most part, to see her breathing comfortably and sleeping peacefully on my side during those times. I managed to keep her alive night after night and all seems well with the world. A child changes your life, they say. How right they are. What a perspective-changer this experience was to me! Parenting is not for wimps. Good parents should be honored every single day. From where I'm at, it seems to be the scariest part of growing into... being a parent … though I’m pretty sure it can shock your system in the best possible ways too.

That night, I collapse on my bed, curled around the fluffy warmth of my pillows, feeling happily exhausted and drifted off to sleep in a jiffy.

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, by Anie Ordillo

Thirty Today: Kissing My Twenties Au Revoir

Haircut Epiphanies and the What-Nots

A Fond Adieu

What My Niece Made Me Realized

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