When I was young, I had big dreams. I saw myself working as a hotshot lawyer or sometimes a well-known journalist who owns a mansion and drives her own car. In school, they made me believe I am one of the best. At home, they always tell me I have what it takes to make it big.
Then when I was sixteen, reality gave me a slap on the face. A big one.
And I never recovered from that.
I graduated on top of my class in 1995 and got accepted in the country's best university on scholarship. I thought I could conquer the world until my dad had a stroke and my mom, in tears, told me that she isn't sure if she can raise us on her own. God was kind to our family, He helped us with our needs. A lot of trials came after that which we have conquered as a family. We became inseparable, our faith was much stronger. However, I lost my ability to dream.
I went to college knowing that even if I was the best in high school, I am a nobody in that big university. I didn't strive to bag honors, my only goal was to pass every subject so that I could graduate. I worked part time as a service crew in a fastfood chain and later as a tutor. I juggled my work and studies, telling myself over and over that I could get a better job if I have a diploma.
When I graduated, all I wanted was to have a job that pays a salary regularly. It doesn't matter how small it is as long as it comes on a regular basis. I have no dreams of making it big. My college records are not impressive. I had a few failing grades and most of the ones I passed just hit the passing mark. Why dream big? In reality, there are more people better than I am who are not making it big anyway.
When I turned 30 a few years ago, I laughed. I remembered that I used to believe that I am going to earn my first million before I reach that age. Now I'm past thirty and I don't even have a hundred pesos in my ATM. When I was a kid, I thought I am going to get married at the age of 27, and now, I'm still single and unattached.
I have disappointed myself so many times that I am so afraid to dream again.
Now, I keep asking myself, what if I didn't give up that easily? What if I looked at that afternoon when my mom tearfully told me about her fears as a motivation instead of defeat? Would I be enjoying a better life now?
A lot of people say that they do not regret their past because it made them who they are now. But me, I do have regrets. I do want to change a lot of things in the past. I know I could have done better but I did not. I let reality bring me down and I did not raise myself up. Maybe it's true that I wouldn't be as strong as I am now if those things didn't happen. But I would rather be weak than not having the ability to believe.
I want to believe in dreams again. I want to tell myself that it is not too late.