Before I Nag:Part 3

Ma cherie Danielle,

Once again, it’s me, your mother’s 22 year old self.

How have you been, my darling? Are you enjoying Mummy’s letters to you? I do hope all is well with you, my dear.

Well, in a way, I promised you I’d talk about this topic eventually in one of these little notes to you. In this letter, I’d try to do just that.

Again, I keep wondering how you’d look like now, a young woman about to blossom into who she wants to be. I wonder if you’d take after me. I wonder if you have my almond shaped, deeply-set blue-brown eyes. I wonder if your hair will flow too in thick, sable waves. I wonder if your tall, lithe body will be wrapped in coffee-coloured skin. Or, will you take after Daddy (whoever he is!)? Either way, however you’d look, there’s one thing Mum is sure of. No matter what, you are utterly lovely, my Danielle.

I know. I know. I’m your Mum. I’m required by familial ties to say that. But you know what, even without them and despite my not seeing you grow into a woman for another thirty or so year, I would still say right now, Ms. Danielle Beatrix (Insert our last name here), that you are gorgeous.

You may not believe me. I understand. I should do so, after all, there was a point in my life I thought I looked like a freak. You may not know this, but yes, your mother did once believe she was, well, utterly gross.

When I was seven years old, I imagined my twenty year old self to be, well, Keira Knightley. Of course, I didn’t know the actress then (She’d get her fame when I’m already in high school). I did however, basically covet her features --- those sparkling hazel eyes, the lovely champagne gold hair, the milky white complexion. Of course, we now know that those features are far from what I have, and little by little, it became apparent. For that, I was quite angry at myself. It didn’t help that your aunt, my older sister had exactly the mestiza features I so badly longed for. It wasn’t her fault, of course, for looking the way that she is. However, seeing her in the covers of those magazines, admittedly, made me feel like my dusky looks are not worthy of admiration.

Then, high school came with its screaming taunts. I can not count the many different names I’ve been called for, well, as mentioned in my first letter, caring more about my books than the boys. One thing’s for certain about those harsh words hurled at me: they thought I was ugly. What’s worse is I believed them once (though, it never looked like it to my friends. After all, an actress should know how to fake emotion.)

And then, one summer, I went to Australia. There, for some reason that was strange to me then, everyone stared at me. And no, unlike in my high school, it wasn’t because my hair was blocking their view of the blackboard. They were actually smiling at me. A bunch of girls came up to me to ask where I got my sun-kissed tan (to which, all I could reply was that it’s natural.). A make-up saleslady at David Jones told me she wished I could stay put for the day because my eyes seemed like the perfect canvas for the eyeshadow she was testing. There was even a man who tried to ask for my phone number at a Brisbane grocery store. In their eyes, I was gorgeous. The girl who was compared to Shiva, the destroyer (after a rowdy Asian history class) is apparently a goddess in the eyes of these Australians.

This is when I realized that beauty can come in all shapes, colours and sizes. It isn’t limited to simply that creamy skinned, flaxen-locked girl in a magazine. In fact, every single woman on this planet is lovely simply because they are, they exist, they were created with meticulous care by Him. Beauty is not just limited to the physical too. It actually radiates from the inside-out.

I guess all I’m trying to tell you, my dear, is that no matter what the world says, you are lovely. You are lovely because it’s in your human nature to be. You are lovely because of the beautiful treasures you hold inside you. You are lovely because you are, my Danielle.

And you know what? I’ll always adore you, my beautiful daughter.


With love,
Mum

Ang Mamatay Nang Dahil Sa'Yo

(In English, that would be “to die for you”)

If you’re a Filipino or have lived in these jeweled isles for quite some time now, you’d know that that is the last line of the national anthem. Yes, it’s part of that bit where your throat feels so exasperated from having to sustain all those high parts. Yes, that’s the part of the song where your lualhati starts to sound like an asthma wheeze. If not used to singing the anthem, your throat just wants to go “Make it stop! Make it stop!”


To die for you. This is what a lot of our heroes did --- die for the nation, that is. Their blood was spilt as ransom for this nation’s freedom. It was a supreme sacrifice that had them leaving whatever comfort zones they had --- whether the universities of Europe or the streets of Tondo --- to give the next generation a taste of the liberty they so felt their land deserved. They gave their lives in pursuit of freedom for the Philippines. I guess this is why that line, “Ang mamatay nang dahil sa’yo.” Is in our nation’s anthem, but is it really fair to ask this of every Filipino in this day and age?

What about our families and friends? I don’t think even the most understanding of loved ones would accept without difficulty that you sacrificed your life just to free your land. Sure, it sounds noble. Sure, people would admire you for it. But, my goodness, that sounds just impractical, radical, crazy even.

Many times, what’s right is what’s more difficult to do. Admit it. It is easier to beat that red light than to wait for minutes for the next green signal. It’s a lot less tedious to skip your suffrage responsibility altogether since, anyway, there is no assurance the polls aren’t rigged. It will make you a richer person not paying appropriate taxes and keeping your records to yourself. It’s oftentimes a sacrifice to fulfill your duties as a citizen of this country.

But, I think this is exactly what that line in our national anthem wants us to do, to do what we can for this country even if it’s harder, to put your love for others before yourself. To borrow from Christian ideology, we must “die a little to ourselves” everyday so others may live. Yes, it may hurt for a while, but seeing the nation gradually progress will make it all worth it. After all that, then, all that pain will be for a cause.

Yes, even your scratchy throat from the high note.