I didn’t grow up with the most traditional family setup. My parents weren’t around, but I was blessed to be raised by two of the most loving, selfless people—my grandparents. And honestly, so much of who I am today is because of them.
They didn’t need grand gestures or loud expressions of love. They showed it in the way they saw me. When I started getting into dancing, my grandfather noticed right away. He didn’t have to say much—he just got me cassette tapes to practice with, supporting me quietly but wholeheartedly.
When I fell in love with reading and writing, they didn’t question it. My grandfather bought me pocketbooks—those tiny novels we’d find everywhere in the Philippines. He even taught me how to use a typewriter, and that old rhythmic clicking became the soundtrack of a dream being born. My grandmother made sure I had the space to be curious, creative, and completely myself.
My grandpa never rode a bike, but he was the one who patiently taught me how. I’ll never forget the moments of determination as I wobbled, falling and getting back up. He was gentle, but there was always a toughness there when needed, just enough to push me to keep going. And when I sang—despite being so shy—they both listened with quiet encouragement. It wasn’t about big words or declarations of love, but their belief in me was loud and clear.
Love wasn’t always verbalized in our household, but it was always there, shown through actions, and sometimes even through handwritten letters. They didn’t try to change me. They simply nurtured what was already there—encouraging every little interest, whether it was dancing, writing, singing, or simply dreaming.
This is for them—for every cassette tape, every book, every lesson, every thoughtful gesture. For the kind of love that doesn’t need to be spoken to be felt.
They didn’t just raise me. They raised my spirit, my voice, and every part of me that dared to dream.
EXPLORE . ADVENTURE . DISCOVER . 