WE #276 - Carrying the Weight, Chasing the Light: My Story of Resilience!

Hello everyone, it's a great weekend to reflect on life, and I am thrilled to share with you my idea about one of the weekend engagement prompt ideas given by @gelenkp.

Do you think your life is hard and that you deserve more? Explain and give specific examples.

Do I think my life is hard — and do I deserve more? The short answer is: yes and no.

Yes, because life often asks more of me than I feel I can give; no, because “deserve” is a tricky word that assumes life is a ledger I can balance by effort alone. When I sit with both ideas honestly, what comes through is a quieter truth: my life is full of meaningful struggle, and I both want and am working toward more — more peace, more safety, more time for the things that bring me joy. Below, I’ll explain why I say this and provide specific examples from my everyday life that illustrate how challenging things can be, how I respond, and what “more” looks like for me.

The weight of everyday responsibility

One of the most significant sources of hardship for me is the steady pressure of responsibility. I work at Buhawen Elementary School, a place of beauty that I love — the green mountain vistas, the sound of children learning — but also a place that can be dangerous, especially during typhoon season. We’re in a location prone to landslides, falling rocks, and soil erosion. Every trip to work carries that undercurrent of risk: a slippery road, a sudden downpour, or a weak patch of earth could change everything in an instant. That constant awareness is emotionally exhausting. It’s hard to relax when your commute could become a hazard, and that exhaustion compounds over time.

Then there are the emotional responsibilities I carry for my family. I grew up looking up to my mother as a role model, and I want to honor her by supporting the people I love. Sometimes that means putting my own needs on hold. I’m proud of that instinct, but it’s also tiring. There are nights when I feel the pull between being present for others and preserving the small reserves of energy I need to care for myself.

Financial strain is another quiet, persistent challenge. Like many people, I feel the pressure of limited resources: I want to eat healthily (as a vegetarian), occasionally treat myself and my loved ones to nice things (I love dining in fancy restaurants when I can), and save or plan for the future. Wanting a more comfortable life — where I don’t have to count every expense and can say “yes” more often — is not greed. It’s a realistic wish for stability and freedom.

Small moments, significant impact

Hardship isn’t always dramatic. Often it’s a long chain of small things that add up. For example, I keep a gratitude journal and write in it every weekend — and whenever I feel sad or stressed. That practice helps me shift my focus from stress to blessings, but it’s also because those stresses are real and frequent. Some weekends, I write to steady myself: listing the children who made me smile that week, the small victories of finishing a lesson plan, and the comfort of a cup of coffee. Those small things matter because the alternative is dwelling on everything hard.

There are also personal losses I carry. I sometimes write a message to my Mama, telling her that there are days when I seem okay, but there are silent moments when I miss her. Those private, aching moments matter. They remind me that the emotional landscape of my life includes grief, nostalgia, and longing — not just the daily grind.

How I keep going — and why I believe I deserve more

If life is hard in the ways I described, how do I keep going?

First, I prioritize my inner life. I write in my gratitude journal, I carve out moments of self-care, and I remind myself that personal growth is an ongoing journey. I believe focusing on myself — on inner peace and a healthy lifestyle — makes me a better person for others and frees me to ask for more from life.

Second, I hold onto small rituals that sustain me: coffee in the morning, the warm glow of Christmas lights that always lifts my mood, and watching a K-drama that helps me laugh or cry and then feel lighter. These are not trivial. They’re my daily tools that keep my heart steady.

Third, I set concrete goals.I dream of a comfortable life and financial capability; it’s a north star that gives me hope and motivation—having goals, even personal and emotionally driven ones, matters when the present is heavy.

When I say I deserve more, I mean simple, human things: safety on my way to work, emotional bandwidth to breathe, financial buffer to enjoy life a little, and honest time for rest and creativity. Deserving more is not entitlement. It’s recognizing that dignity and joy are not luxuries — they are necessary to thrive. I deserve to feel safe. I deserve to have energy left at the end of the day for love, for laughter, for hobbies. I deserve to celebrate life’s small wins without guilt.