Anie Writes

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

In Ahh Life, Personal

Single And Relatively 30

“Ding” pops the Facebook chat box.

“Hi Ma’am Best!” Sab narrates.

“How’s your love life?” asked her acquaintance without so much as a slight prelude.

“Next question please!” Sab sarcastically replied, feeling rather nonplussed.

At my Ma's birthday dinner, while having a mouth-watering meal that includes grilled tilapia, kimchi fried rice and ensaladang talong, Sab and I found ourselves deep in conversation about our singleness and how we feel like we’ve reached the point where our lack of a relationship is gradually turning into a concern to others who seemingly look forward to the day a guy would finally sweep us off our freakin’ feet.

For some reasons, 2014 was marked by several conversations like that one. As singles, Sab and I had been constantly asked why we’re single, mostly by someone who isn’t and more often than not, our single status is usually met with shock. Never mind that you’re rocking a non-teaching post this school year or that you’re actually co-writing a book, because these days, relationship status seems like the quintessential thing that can happen to you once you roll in your 30’s. We may be wrong but we sure as hell get that a lot from other people. These stereotypes, misconceptions and pressures attached to being single and relatively 30 leave us feeling quite frankly, meh. A teenage girl, who thinks of me as someone creative, fierce and eloquent also thinks I’m missing out on life because I’m single. Imagine that. Surely, someone creative, fierce and eloquent, not to mention funny, could inevitably find someone to settle with, right? Until then, not to sound like a conceited being, I know I am my own best company… for now. I mean, I have four older sisters in their mid 30’s who are all singles for Pete’s sake! There's really no point of panicking. As to why we’re single? Perhaps because we never forwarded those chain messages in 2008, that or, we take marriage seriously, or maybe we're used to being on our own?

Of course, I am a woman after all and like most women, I pondered about romance and that someone who would make my heart goes giddy up. I also thought about marriage and have fantasies of who would be in my own wedding party and picket-fenced house overlooking narrow brick paved streets. Heck, I already picked out names for my future kids, Peri and Exodus, haha! I'm all for Destiny’s Child’s song ‘Cater 2 U’ and I totally believe there’s nothing anti-feminist about wanting to cater to the person you love. But, you see, I am at the season of my life where I fully embrace being single. It’s neither lonely nor isolated. It’s not a kind of revolutionary concept but a SEASON. At times, a bad bout of PMS would tell me otherwise but of all the crazy things I would never allow myself to do when the ‘feels’ overwhelm me, is to find a husband just because society expects me to. I strongly believe that I can’t and won’t settle until it’s RIGHT and that, when I get there, it'll be for a life time. I just want to be able to bring home a bearded young man with Napoleon's brain who will be able to firmly shake my parents hands, look them in the eye and say “Nice to Meet you Mr. and Mrs. Ordillo,” without ever wetting himself. Is that even too much to ask?

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, by Anie Ordillo

In Pixiecut Adventures,

In Defense of My Pixie Cut

After having had hair that ranged from long to super long, I kissed my usual floppy ponytail {that swings behind my head} goodbye in 2010. The one thing that USED to make me feel quite ultimately a girl… my long, straight, might I add, silky, darn hair. This led to four years of various pixie cut inspirations, pliable molding clay/hair styling wax experiments and at one point, tears whilst learning to let go of the cloak of hair that once protect me. These days though, it’s just my cheekbones against the world and I’m perfectly okay with that. For someone who has had short hair for a while, I think I’ve heard almost every awkward, sometimes crazy notions/comments there are in regards to this pixie do. Among which:

Silly Notion #5: People mistake you for a boy

Yup. That one evening I took the jeepney with my co-teachers on the way to the mall. I was wearing a casual denim capris, collared white tee and a pair of sneakers when I saw this woman seated in front of us staring straight at me in utter bewilderment like 'is she or is she not'. Then I started talking to one of my co-teachers to assure her I'm a girl and that, I think, settled everything. I Think. This happened once or twice and couldn't be more grateful for breasts and dresses and hoop earrings and make-up and my source of utter sassiness; RED LIPSTICK.

Silly Notion #4: Pixie cut doesn’t look feminine

Because we all grew up surrounded by images that equate long hair with femininity but it only takes the right cut and styling to prove this notion wrong. Some days, I’d throw in a short dress/black tights combo and I’m good to go. Most days though, I just wear confidence like an invisible crown and work it like I'm supposed to. I guess I'm in the habit of challenging the idea of traditional femininity every now and then.

Silly Notion #3: ‘But men like long hair’
You don’t say? {Insert sarcasm here}. Because, I don’t know, anything that I do with my looks should always please men? HECK. NO. If long hair is what you’re into, move along, dude. Move. Along.

Silly Notion #2: Chopping off your hair as an expression of a significant life change
Overtime, I grew tired of telling people it wasn’t so. When people say this to me, I just smile at them politely because I lack the energy to explain myself. But for the record, I chopped off my hair because I just wanted to. It can’t get any simpler than that. No, I didn’t go through a rough break up, nor did I ever want to liberate myself from something and I seriously didn’t go through a life phase of some sort. I cut my hair short because I just wanted to, the same way you want a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cocoa powder on a rainy morning.

Silly Notion #1: Some assumes you’re a lesbian
Perhaps the silliest of all. There's this unfortunate stereotype about women with short hair and their sexual orientation in our culture today. I honestly didn't know that not having a boyfriend and sporting a pixie cut is all it takes to make the team. Let me tell you this one thing though: just because you’re short haired, doesn’t mean you’re attracted to women already. Some are, and well, that’s really their choice and should be respected in the very same way my choice should be. But guys, I'M STRAIGHT. I’m very much attracted to men... with scruffy beards in particular, preferably with Napoleon’s brain, who loves to engage in sensible conversation, whose poignant thoughts and ideas can challenge my own {but really, any guy who can leave his handprint on my heart is fine by me too}. I’m tragically heterosexual like that even though you think my pixie cut says otherwise.

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, by Anie Ordillo

In Ahh Life, Personal

For When You Are An Introvert

“You don’t talk much, do you?” asked one of the three girls I’m bunking in with for the night

I was seventeen, just three months in college and already out on a mandatory study trip in Manila and Cavite respectively, for a class I wasn’t even too keen about.

I flashed an awkward smile. Inside my head, I thought of home and how I yearned to be in a comfortable space to myself or with the heartening presence of either my small circle of close friends or family. Instead, I was in a company of people I barely know, in an environment with an excess of stimulation. A deep sense of frustration in me followed.

“She doesn’t talk much” said the girl once more, this time turning to the other 2 in our quad-sharing hotel room.

This, coming from someone who only had been with me in the same room for not less than 3 minutes, what a one-dimensional remark, I thought. Without having the impulse to defend myself, I sat on my side of the bed, fiddling with my cell phone {a Siemens A36!}, pre-Facebook/Twitter era.

“You know, it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for...” she said matter-of-factly.

If we were on some sort of suspense film, I was the most likely person inside the room that might come flying out of left field with a dark sneaky plot, violent even and get everyone without warning. After all, it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?

“… we have no slightest clue what’s going on inside that head” the assuming girl continued.

“What? I’m some kind of a psycho, now? Great.” I said thought to myself, still fiddling with my phone as I held back a chuckle. Inside, I knew that was my cue. So, onto my feet I stood, put my phone inside the patch pocket of my jeans, quite set to give this girl a piece of my mind, when a knock on the door stopped me even before I had the chance to speak. One of the girls rushed to open it and outside, my friend, Mina stood, all bright and breezy.

“NATHANIE!” she called excitedly.

“I already talked to Mrs. Yanga. You’re bunking in with us!” delight was in her voice.

In that moment, relief washed over me. In haste, I gathered all my things, went with Mina and didn’t look back.

I always knew right from the beginning that I’m an introvert, what I didn’t know was, there’s nothing wrong with being one. I used to tell my teenage self that maybe if I look people in the eye, then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t think I’m an anti-social or a snob. I mean, I can’t expect people to reach out to me if I won’t reach out to them, right? But, what if interaction, for the sake of interaction, is a lot less appealing for me and that genuine connection matters than mere social pleasantries? This made college a very challenging undertaking for me. I felt like I was being forced out of the turtle shell of my mind in to an extrovert-infested pool of a new social scene and being frowned upon when I can’t seem to keep up with all those ‘ice breaker games’ and ‘getting to know you’ activities.

Fast-forward to present and I still get those kinds of notions from other people, to be labeled as someone who isn’t nice or isn’t friendly is just that easy. It takes a little while for me to befriend someone but it doesn’t mean I’m socially inept or that I hate people. I do like people and I like socializing but in different ways extroverts do and when I come to a point where I’ve stretch my social stamina, I look forward to restoring my energy by basking in solitude: at home, on my bed with either a book on my hand or my trusty MacBook on my lap, reading blogs and articles that appeal to me, coffee cup on my hand.

On the surface, I may appear reserved and seemingly indifferent with those around me, but that’s just my natural instinct telling me to focus, listen and process things internally, making mental notes as to what stirs people’s mind. In my soul, I can be fun to be around too, easily amused and a bit crazy as anybody else. I think it's silly for someone to tell me to overcome introversion. Like, how do you even do that? All I could ever do is to be as transparent as I can be about my introversion, in hope that some people could be more understanding towards my, as I was told, seemingly peculiar traits and at the same time, connect with my fellow introverts {and pursue world domination! Kidding!}. Over the course of time, I managed to cope in situations that entail extroverted behavior while still remaining true to myself. I'm confident in my introvertness and I feel just fine for being one.

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, by Anie Ordillo

In Faith Talk, KidMin

That Other Thing I Do

K.A. Easter '14

"Miss Anie!" a voice from a vacant lot with thickly overgrown weeds and bushes across the street echoed.

Immediately, I stopped on my tracks, somewhat puzzled. I turned around and glanced at the area and saw 9-year old John Paul in his over worn half-white sando and tattered denim shorts hanging upside down from a tree branch, beaming with glee as he gave me an enthusiastic two-hand wave from across the street.

“John Paul” I bellowed. Scared stiff he might fall, I motioned him to climb down.

Easily, he climbed down the tree in a wink and ran towards me, initiating an animated, dance-like greeting as he took my hand in his and raised them to his forehead {mano po gesture}.

“Bless you”, I said smiling and sent him on his way.

This has always been the case whenever my co-Sunday school teachers and I stroll the streets of our little community. Kids who regularly attend our K.A. service every week would come up to us and say hi in crazily heart-warming ways whenever we randomly see them around Plaridel II or Amsic areas... something I just can’t get behind every single time.

It’s been a year since I took the leadership at King’s Ambassadors, the kids ministry of the church where I currently attend. Here, we encourage kids to build up a close and intimate relationship with Jesus as they grow up confidently and be an Ambassador of Christ through words and actions. One solid year of learning, trusting, discipline and a life wholly changed on so many different levels. Truth be told, I still cringe at the idea of leading the kids ministry. I didn’t set out for this but once you see a pressing need, you simply cannot walk away from it without doing anything. What with this out-of-this-world burden and love for the K.A. kids, it was clear that God was calling me. I was challenge to dive right in and with a rolled up sleeve, I did and never regret doing so. In spite of being the classic INTP, who’s not exactly fond of responsibilities and dreads the social demands of leadership, I can sincerely say that right here and doing this feels so much like I’m in my total element. When I contemplate on my past experiences, self-doubts that never seem to disappear and how I ultimately landed this position, I know it was God who ordered my steps and in my heart of hearts I’m certain… kids ministry here in Humphrey Center is where it’s at.

At present, we minister to heaps of kids in our weekly service, having only 7 volunteers on my team and with very limited resources. It’s almost crazy how we manage to keep afloat but God has been faithful and it is His grace that sustains us. With this confidence He put in our hearts, we see brighter days ahead and greater things are about to unfold before our very eyes because God is truly, extremely, awesomely good. I mean like, seriously good.

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, by Anie Ordillo

What My Niece Made Me Realized

Single And Relatively 30

In Defense of My Pixie Cut

For When You Are An Introvert

That Other Thing I Do

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