I joined an app to help a friend. Little did I know it would change my life.
I once came across a random graphic on social media that said:
Ego says: ‘Once everything falls into place, I will find peace.’
Spirit says: ‘Find peace and everything will fall into place.’
I used to be that person who believed in what the Ego says, but recent and not-so-recent events in my life have made me realize the truth and wisdom in what the Spirit says.
This statement is supported by many blessings that have come my way, including my second chance at marriage.
2008
I was a founding editor-in-chief of a teen magazine in one of the biggest publishing companies in the country. I was also a single mom to a then-six-year-old boy, whom I raised hands-on. My presence in his life was (and still is) more important to me than anything else. From the time he was born in 2002, I did all types of work I could to support him yet be able to stay home with him and raise him myself.
The magazine — called SugarSugar — gave me new purpose in life. I created it for young people with substance, for outcasts, for those who thought that volunteering at an animal shelter was more important that reading about crushes.
I had just come from a long-term relationship that didn’t work. So one sleepless night, I decided that my son and my work would be the center of my life. Love will have to wait until Basti had graduated from college and had a business of his own. By then, I would just be a little over 40 years old and will finally fulfill my dream of backpacking around the world.
Piece of cake, I thought.
I was on Facebook because of the magazine. I remember it was Ping Medina who encouraged me to open an account after a shoot. A friend had joined an app called Zoosk that is comparable to today’s Tinder, and a requirement for his membership to be completed was for him to invite at least five friends. He invited me and I joined to help him out.
Naturally, I started receiving messages from different people. But being paranoid about my privacy made me ignore them. That time, I was also taking my Masters in Family Life and Child Development in UP. Between work and school, I would stay up and online for as long as three (yes, three) days straight, but not have time to check the messages, much more reply to them.
One night, though, I was not feeling good about everything in my life. I checked Zoosk and randomly chose a message to reply to. It was a guy named Roopak R from India. Aha, I thought. Someone I would NEVER meet.
And so Roopak R was in luck: I started typing out all my frustrations about my industry. I knew fully well there was no one around me I could trust and talk to, and this stranger was the perfect “live journal.” I could share with him evil thoughts and not care if he liked me anymore after that.
Each time I was not feeling good, I wrote to him. He would reply, and strangely understood. He was in IT, but he was interested in my industry. He had contacts in India who also belonged in lifestyle and fashion, so he could vaguely imagine what I was going through.
We received an assignment in our MFLCD class to trace our family pedigree as far back as we could. I grew up being told, “Mukha kang Bumbay (You look Indian),” and also thought that some of my relatives on my father’s side looked more exotic than the typical Filipino.
At the same time, from a size XL, I shrunk to a size XS because of my work. My publisher was worried about my health and asked me to take a break. He encouraged me to travel. That was when I decided to go to India. I researched about the safest places in India for solo female travel, and Bangalore came up. It was regarded as the Silicon Valley of India (there’s a Yahoo office there) so there would be a lot of foreigners.
I booked my ticket. My gut told me to inform Roopak R, so that if I needed help, I would have someone to turn to. Besides, I was going on a solo trip for the first time in my life and had a son that would need me to come back. If I faced danger, it was better to know a local.
That September, I flew to Bangalore. Roopak R met me at the airport. He did not "kill" me that night. He did not turn out to be a scary guy. In fact, he made sure I found a place that was safe. He turned out to be nicer than he was in Zoosk — gentle and mild-mannered. It was not hard to trust him. We became friends.
Roopak R and I became close, but we were aware that we would not end up together. He was from Trivandrum, Kerala, where arranged marriages were still customary. When our friendship started, Roopak R already knew that was going to be his path. I was fine with that. I had my mid-40s backpacking-around-the-world to look forward to.
I stayed in Bangalore for a month, and travelled to Goa for a week. When I left India, Roopak and I said goodbye.
2009
I was back in Manila. Roopak was in Glasgow, Scotland, working on a project for Scottishpower. We continued to communicate. One night, he told me that, after I left India, he realized that he had fallen in love with me. I realized the same but was not as expressive as he. I was a single mom. With the differences in our culture, I was sure it was never going to work out.
Months passed. Roopak and I continued to communicate. Since he knew about my love for travel and castles, he asked me to visit him in Glasgow so we could figure out if we had a future together. By this time, I was actively styling for the biggest retail company in the country, and it was helping me earn more than enough for Basti and myself. To help me make a decision, Roopak got me a stint as fashion show director and stylist for The Prince’s Trust, Prince Charles’ biggest charity for young people in the UK.
So I went to Glasgow. We travelled around Scotland, drove to England and visited relatives and friends in London. My volunteer work for The Prince’s Trust raised thousands of pounds for the charity, and I got to work with Marks & Spencer and female leaders of every county. I also did a fashion apprenticeship with Che Camille, a Scottish designers’ hub.
I was in Scotland for four months. On January 1, 2010, as soon as the clock struck 12, Roopak went on his knee and proposed. I said yes.
2010
Roopak went home with me to Manila so he could meet my family. He was here for a week, then returned to Glasgow to finish his project. Then he returned to India.
We were engaged, but did not know when — or how — we were going to get married. For all I knew, we were just going to stay engaged forever.
2011
Roopak tried his luck at finding a job in Manila. He came here for a month and literally knocked on doors of IT companies to pass his resume. On his last week, when we had almost lost hope, an agency called and got him a job in a multi-national bank. From then on, Roopak has been working in the country.
2013
Roopak was the one who arranged our wedding in his hometown in Trivandrum, Kerala, with much help from his older brother Deepak, Deepak’s wife Annita, and their parents Amma and Achan. That time I was working in Rappler, and was lost in the crush of the daily grind.
The week before our wedding were the senatorial elections, so Roopak had to go ahead to Trivandrum and fix everything. My family and I followed on the week of our wedding and worked on the loose ends.
Three years after our engagement, Roopak and I were finally husband
and wife. It wasn’t something we overly planned or worried about. We
flowed with what life brought our way — work, distance, cultural
differences, ups, downs, more downs — but had that peace within us that
made us confident things would work out.Ego says: ‘Once everything falls into place, I will find peace.’
Spirit says: ‘Find peace and everything will fall into place.’
I used to be that person who believed in what the Ego says, but recent and not-so-recent events in my life have made me realize the truth and wisdom in what the Spirit says.
This statement is supported by many blessings that have come my way, including my second chance at marriage.
2008
I was a founding editor-in-chief of a teen magazine in one of the biggest publishing companies in the country. I was also a single mom to a then-six-year-old boy, whom I raised hands-on. My presence in his life was (and still is) more important to me than anything else. From the time he was born in 2002, I did all types of work I could to support him yet be able to stay home with him and raise him myself.
The magazine — called SugarSugar — gave me new purpose in life. I created it for young people with substance, for outcasts, for those who thought that volunteering at an animal shelter was more important that reading about crushes.
I had just come from a long-term relationship that didn’t work. So one sleepless night, I decided that my son and my work would be the center of my life. Love will have to wait until Basti had graduated from college and had a business of his own. By then, I would just be a little over 40 years old and will finally fulfill my dream of backpacking around the world.
Piece of cake, I thought.
I was on Facebook because of the magazine. I remember it was Ping Medina who encouraged me to open an account after a shoot. A friend had joined an app called Zoosk that is comparable to today’s Tinder, and a requirement for his membership to be completed was for him to invite at least five friends. He invited me and I joined to help him out.
Naturally, I started receiving messages from different people. But being paranoid about my privacy made me ignore them. That time, I was also taking my Masters in Family Life and Child Development in UP. Between work and school, I would stay up and online for as long as three (yes, three) days straight, but not have time to check the messages, much more reply to them.
One night, though, I was not feeling good about everything in my life. I checked Zoosk and randomly chose a message to reply to. It was a guy named Roopak R from India. Aha, I thought. Someone I would NEVER meet.
And so Roopak R was in luck: I started typing out all my frustrations about my industry. I knew fully well there was no one around me I could trust and talk to, and this stranger was the perfect “live journal.” I could share with him evil thoughts and not care if he liked me anymore after that.
Each time I was not feeling good, I wrote to him. He would reply, and strangely understood. He was in IT, but he was interested in my industry. He had contacts in India who also belonged in lifestyle and fashion, so he could vaguely imagine what I was going through.
We received an assignment in our MFLCD class to trace our family pedigree as far back as we could. I grew up being told, “Mukha kang Bumbay (You look Indian),” and also thought that some of my relatives on my father’s side looked more exotic than the typical Filipino.
At the same time, from a size XL, I shrunk to a size XS because of my work. My publisher was worried about my health and asked me to take a break. He encouraged me to travel. That was when I decided to go to India. I researched about the safest places in India for solo female travel, and Bangalore came up. It was regarded as the Silicon Valley of India (there’s a Yahoo office there) so there would be a lot of foreigners.
I booked my ticket. My gut told me to inform Roopak R, so that if I needed help, I would have someone to turn to. Besides, I was going on a solo trip for the first time in my life and had a son that would need me to come back. If I faced danger, it was better to know a local.
That September, I flew to Bangalore. Roopak R met me at the airport. He did not "kill" me that night. He did not turn out to be a scary guy. In fact, he made sure I found a place that was safe. He turned out to be nicer than he was in Zoosk — gentle and mild-mannered. It was not hard to trust him. We became friends.
Roopak R and I became close, but we were aware that we would not end up together. He was from Trivandrum, Kerala, where arranged marriages were still customary. When our friendship started, Roopak R already knew that was going to be his path. I was fine with that. I had my mid-40s backpacking-around-the-world to look forward to.
I stayed in Bangalore for a month, and travelled to Goa for a week. When I left India, Roopak and I said goodbye.
2009
I was back in Manila. Roopak was in Glasgow, Scotland, working on a project for Scottishpower. We continued to communicate. One night, he told me that, after I left India, he realized that he had fallen in love with me. I realized the same but was not as expressive as he. I was a single mom. With the differences in our culture, I was sure it was never going to work out.
Months passed. Roopak and I continued to communicate. Since he knew about my love for travel and castles, he asked me to visit him in Glasgow so we could figure out if we had a future together. By this time, I was actively styling for the biggest retail company in the country, and it was helping me earn more than enough for Basti and myself. To help me make a decision, Roopak got me a stint as fashion show director and stylist for The Prince’s Trust, Prince Charles’ biggest charity for young people in the UK.
So I went to Glasgow. We travelled around Scotland, drove to England and visited relatives and friends in London. My volunteer work for The Prince’s Trust raised thousands of pounds for the charity, and I got to work with Marks & Spencer and female leaders of every county. I also did a fashion apprenticeship with Che Camille, a Scottish designers’ hub.
I was in Scotland for four months. On January 1, 2010, as soon as the clock struck 12, Roopak went on his knee and proposed. I said yes.
2010
Roopak went home with me to Manila so he could meet my family. He was here for a week, then returned to Glasgow to finish his project. Then he returned to India.
We were engaged, but did not know when — or how — we were going to get married. For all I knew, we were just going to stay engaged forever.
2011
Roopak tried his luck at finding a job in Manila. He came here for a month and literally knocked on doors of IT companies to pass his resume. On his last week, when we had almost lost hope, an agency called and got him a job in a multi-national bank. From then on, Roopak has been working in the country.
2013
Roopak was the one who arranged our wedding in his hometown in Trivandrum, Kerala, with much help from his older brother Deepak, Deepak’s wife Annita, and their parents Amma and Achan. That time I was working in Rappler, and was lost in the crush of the daily grind.
The week before our wedding were the senatorial elections, so Roopak had to go ahead to Trivandrum and fix everything. My family and I followed on the week of our wedding and worked on the loose ends.
And they did. It all started with a Facebook app, a decision to trust and an openness to accept each other for everything we were. Love does move in mysterious ways.