Today I realized I haven’t written here in more than a year. It seems I’ve been remarkably content in both my public and private spheres.

Last I wrote, I was about to embark on a trip to Japan for Star Wars Celebration. It was everything a woman could ask for: excellent food, fun companions, and gorgeous surroundings.

And celebrity crushes.

There were many trip highlights that are forever ingrained in my memory and photo archive. Some day I’ll regale you with some tales from Japan, but suffice it to say, it was so worth it.

Upon my return, I dove right back into my everyday life of librarianship: attending and hosting author talks, hobnobbing with city officials, and organizing celebrations, among other programs.

In June, I brought Lawrence along with me on my yearly pilgrimage to ALA Annual, this time in Philadelphia. I’ve never brought anyone outside of LibraryLand to a conference, but fortunately one of his best friends lives there so he wasn’t entirely bored. Afterward, we spent a few days in New York City, mostly eating and walking around.

Fast forward to October, where my colleague and I hosted the Library’s first barrio fiesta out on Fulton Plaza. We highlighted the history of Filipino boxing in San Francisco with a boxing demo, cultural dance, and contemporary music. Organizing this event was a crash course in city red tape. I had to fill out a number of applications and permits for things such as noise level, use of the outdoor space by the library, and coordinating a fire marshall visit. I created a check list so that the process is more streamlined for next year.

After the barrio fiesta, I found myself in Germany for the Frankfurt Book Fair. The Philippines was the 2025 Guest of Honor, and I thought it important to attend as part of my role as manager of the Filipino American Center, even if it cost me a few dimes. I found myself rubbing elbows with Filipino authors and publishers I’d only ever read about. There was one moment in particular that still gives me goosebumps. I was invited to dinner with several Filipino writers, illustrators, and others in the Filipino publishing industry. It was perhaps a group of a dozen, and although I became a little overwhelmed from all the socializing, I was grateful for everyone’s hospitality and efforts to include me in conversations.

It wasn’t all work though. I spent a whirlwind 24 hours in Berlin and walked several miles around the city to take in as much as I could. Some of the memorials were sobering, such as the remnants of the Berlin Wall, or the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.

Outside Frankfurt, I embarked on a boat tour down the Rhine, where I saw countless aging castles and indulged in local apple wine. Bearing witness to such ancient history and majesty felt so surreal. These massive places would just appear through the fog on the river. And although I shared that experience with people I’ll likely never see again, it was still such a pleasure to take it all in with others.

What always surprises me the most about traveling solo is how decidedly not lonely I feel. Solo travel requires a certain amount of audacity and whimsy, which go a long way toward making it easy to chat with total strangers. Of course, there were moments when I wished my boyfriend was with me; I know he would have enjoyed it just as much, if not more.

The rest of the year was a blur: Halloween, my 39th birthday, Thanksgiving, then Christmas.

In January, the maternal side of my family threw a huge celebration for my grandpa’s 90th birthday, with nearly 200 guests. My grandpa even asked me to make the opening remarks of the program. He and my grandma have always been huge supporters of anything us grandkids did. It was such an honor to speak in front of the many people whose lives were immeasurably touched by my grandpa’s good humor and generosity. I also assembled a slideshow of my grandpa’s 90 years, spanning so many decades and two countries.

There is another milestone to celebrate this year: 2026 marks my 40 years on this Earth. In my darkest days, I didn’t think I would make it to 30. To thrive, and not only survive, another decade is a reality I’m still learning to accept.

A lot has changed in this last year. I’m still on psych medication, but I no longer attend therapy on a regular basis. I think I was in therapy for nearly ten years. I started out at once a week, and by the end it felt like only every couple of months. I found myself searching for things to discuss with my therapist. Eventually, we both mutually decided we didn’t need to meet as regularly, and that I’ve come an incredibly long way since I first stepped into her office. I learned and I’ve applied so many lessons and tools that I almost have no issues with self-regulating my emotions. They no longer rule me in a paralyzing way.

That isn’t to say I don’t have problems. Problems never magically disappear, and there will always be new ones. But I can honestly state that the worst of times is behind me now. I am very fortunate to have a wonderful support network and the resources to get the help I need(ed).

I’ve made a few promises to myself:

• Travel more. At least 1-2 countries every year.
• Regularly tell the people I love how I feel about them. Make them uncomfortable.
• Seize opportunities as they arise. Make them if they don’t.
• Enjoy that lechon. Or cheesecake.
• Focus on physical well-being. My mental health has been in the spotlight alone for too long.

This was just a very long-winded way of sharing that I’m doing well and that life has been incredibly beautiful and eventful.

Thank you for reading.