A Little Room for Them Too

 People have called me many things — mayabang (arrogant), suplada (unfriendly, conceited, snobbish), maarte (fussy), flirty, mean, aloof.

Sometimes they’re right about the mood, but never the story.

What they don’t see is that half the time I’m just tired, or broke,
or trying to remember who needs lunch money, who’s mad at me,
and whether the electricity or water bills are paid.
I work hard, keep to myself, and crack jokes so I don’t cry in public.
Somehow, that reads as attitude.

I’ve been the overachiever people whispered about,
the woman someone’s ex hated,
the step-something who never felt seen or trusted.
I’ve been hurt, and yes, I’ve hurt back.
But I’m learning that pain can either rot you or reshape you.
Turns out, it makes great material for coloring books.

Because these books and stories I make?
They’re not revenge — they’re rehab.
Emotional alchemy in paperback form.
Every sarcastic caption is a scar that decided to be funny instead of bitter.

It took me a long time to see that everyone around me is carrying something too.
The boss who snaps, the in-law who gossips, the daughter who goes quiet —
they’re all fighting private battles.
They drive me crazy, make me laugh, and sometimes break my heart —
but they’re still part of my world.
And I guess I gotta keep a little room for them too.

I’m a mom, a daughter, a wife, a grandma, a sister, a mistress, a bitch, a lady boss, a fake.
I’ve been called all the names I can’t even type here.
Labels don’t scare me anymore — they just tell me which version of me they met that day.

What scares me is how quickly we forget that everyone we judge
is fighting their own storm.
So if my humor cuts too sharp sometimes, forgive me.
It’s just scar tissue learning to laugh.

Because kindness doesn’t mean you let people walk all over you.
It just means you leave the door open a crack —
enough for light to get in, enough for growth,
enough to remember that even the ones who hurt us are still human.

So yes, I vent, I write, I color my feelings.
I turn betrayal into creativity, one sarcastic page at a time.
And maybe that’s the real magic — choosing creation over destruction,
laughter over bitterness, grace over gossip.

Wait until you see what happens next…

🖤 P.S.

Here’s the kind of mischief I make when life gets too real —
coloring books for heartbreaks, candles that smell like freedom and burn like boundaries, and a little Pinoy humor in between.
🛒 Etsy – Chuckles & Dagger · Amazon Author Page