If I could have taken your pain away!

Fear is only as deep as the mind allows, says a Japanese proverb.

That day of November 2016, my mind let fear enter for a short while only. But I still have the taste of it in my mouth.

It is funny. If I read what I wrote last, it was about you, my love. Gaia. About your second birthday and all the joy you are bringing us every day. You, our fearless and wild one.

But a few days after your second birthday, your fearless and wild self grabbed a bowl of boiling tea on the table. You were so fast. Everything went so fast. And in less that a second, you were screaming...

My parents and I removed her clothes in a blink of an eye and rushed her to the kitchen sink. We let cold water run over her body. I was composed, calm and efficient. I believe I am not the type who is panicking when the girls get hurt or get daredevil.

But then, I saw it. Her skin, her soft, perfect, beautiful baby skin starting to melt in front of my eyes. This is when my mind plunged right into the deepest distress I have ever known. I screamed to my father to hold her and stumbled onto the sofa, in the living room. I remember Alia, standing there, watching us silently, without understanding. I remember my face in my hands. I remember screaming. Just a scream.

A few days later, my mother told me that this scream made her understand it was more serious than just a little burn.

After some pain killer and twenty minutes under running water, we jumped on our motorbike and rushed her to the clinic where she was taken care of by an amazing doctor. She did everything she had to do and more: calm Gaia, comfort me, panse her wounds and show love and compassion.

She reassured me Gaia will not have a single scare. She promised me Gaia will go home and play.

Two hours of being in a state of shock, sitting in the sofa back home, then Gaia fell asleep for a couple of hours. When she woke up, she took her pain killers and indeed, ran to play with Alia.

The next week was nothing but change her dressings, give her showers while she was crying out of fear for pain and taking care of her.

We also called a healer to take the fire away from her little body. Gaia was asleep when the woman arrived. She started working on her relaxed and sleeping body when Gaia woke up. She looked at her, closed her eyes again and let the biggest sight of relief out. She then let the healer move her around to work of every burned area of her body. Right after this day, I believe the wounds dried and healed faster.

Gaia sustained second degree burns on her shoulder, chest, side body, lower back. And a few first degree burns around her belly and mouth.

A few weeks later, her skin was healed but the pigmentation has not yet recovered. Thanks to a mix of essential oils a dear friend mixed for us, a few months later, we could not see where the burns used to be.

I realised I did not write anything since, because I was scared of facing that day, in front of the white page of my computer. But I coud not continue without writing about this scariest event of my life.

The day I wished I could take the pain away from my child.

"And though she be but little, she is fierce"

I grew up wanting to be a boy.

In the World we grow up in, we have this weird belief (and a part of it is true although completely unfair and unjustified) that if you are a man, you have more freedom, things are easier, you are more powerful, you can achieve much more, do whatever you want and be whoever you want to be.

Do not get me wrong, I was always a strong willed, stubborn, independent girl. But I wanted to be a boy. I thought it was much cooler to be a boy. A boy could do any sports, dress however he wanted..

A boy did not have to deal with periods, shaving hair, breast growing, boys constantly cat-calling you or insulting you for not giving them what they wanted. And they can pee standing up. How cool is that?

Then, I became a mother.

And I started learning the power of the women.

I think I actually became a feminist the day I gave birth to my first daughter.

I have learned much more about being a woman in the last 4 years of motherhood than in the past 30 years. I discovered our unbelievable and undying strength. I became more aware of women’s condition, I have opened up to the power and the gift of being a woman.

I believe I was always strong. But becoming a mother made me stronger in many ways.

Which, I have to say, may not be fun for my husband everyday.

Being married to an independent and strong woman may means that she will never take any of your bullshits. 

Well, I do not need my husband. I am with him because I want to be with him. Because I enjoy being with him and I love him.

But I do not need him in a dependent or clingy way.

I can travel by myself (and even alone with two toddlers). I am working and can earn a living. I can take decisions, pay my bills, cook, clean, paint the walls, drive my scooter, take opportunities, carry heavy stuff, use a hammer or handle the weekly budget of the household. 

Despite this, I still had my share of cat-calling, unwelcome hands on my butt, traumatising harassment etc. Lucky me, I was raised in a family that always been very open to talking, sharing and supporting. And a dad surrounded by sister, wife, daughters, nieces and grand-daughters all around.

Unfortunately, years pass and technology becomes more advanced but it looks like the condition of women is not. Social media make teenagers share way too much. It makes young girls feel like they have to prove something to earn attention from a boy. It feels like girls are trying to take each other down instead of raising each other up. That sex is coming before courting. If courting even exist anymore.

Movies and advertising made sex and violence look like it was normal daily thing in a life. Something you do to take power over someone or gain respect.

Rape became barely punishable. And we still are at the same point of thinking men are untouchable and girls could have avoided it.

Walking in a toy store or a clothes shop makes you realise girls are taught to be pretty and good housewives when boys are trained to be bold and adventurous. 

And it makes me feel scared, raising two girls in this World. 

And it makes me feel like I want to change things even harder.

And it makes me feel it will start with how I raise my girls.

And I am raising my daughters for them to always remember that a woman can do or be whatever she wants to. That she can think however she wants and that no one can look down on her because she is a woman.

Boys won’t be boys and girls are not supposed to be pretty and sweet. 

My girls are not sexy. My girls are children.

My girls can be superhero. They are mine already.

My girls can say no if they do not want to kiss you goodbye. 

My girls can climb trees and play cars.

My girls can be princesses without needing a prince.

My girls can love pink without having just this colour in their closet.

My girls can wear a two piece bikini one day and a board short the day after.

My girls can be pretty. But also smart, witty, funny, bold, fearless, loud, annoying, daredevil.

My girls can play dolls one minute and pirates the next one.

My girls do not have a boyfriend. They have friends that are boys.

My girls are not too fat nor too thin. They are strong and healthy.

My girls do not need to wear a dress to be beautiful. They will be beautiful because they are happy.

This two human being are teaching me so much  every single day.

About myself and what I should improve.

About the undying love and  unending strength a woman can hold in her.

About the strong meaning of what it is to be a woman.

So my girls will not grow up thinking it is ok a boy hits her as a way of showing his interest.

Nor they will grow up thinking their role is to be home.

Nor they will think they owe something to anyone.

Nor they will believe their only purpose is to make babies and make a man happy.

Nor they will think they have less worth than a man.

Nor they will learn how to use bullying or belittling someone in a way to gain friendship or coolness.

Nor they will wait for the Prince Charming to come along.

Our children may be wild at times but it is the price to pay to have strong adults when they are grown up. Some days are harder than others. 

Sometimes, doubt passes by in my mind. 

But in the end, I am following my heart and what I believe in.

I may be a pain in the ass for my husband at time, but it is all with a cause.

"Strong-willed children become adults who change the World as long as we can hang on for the ride and resist the temptation to "tame" the spirit out of them" Sarah Stogryn.

"And though she be but little, she is fierce", William Shakespeare.

“Home isn't a place, its a feeling”

“Maybe you had to leave in order to really miss a place; maybe you had to travel to figure out how beloved your starting point was.” 

― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care


I am lucky.

I am lucky, because I have more than one place I can really call home.
I am lucky because I have people in many places I can call family.
I am lucky because I have friends, some since my tender childhood and some that came later in my life that never left my side, wherever we are in the World.
I am lucky I grew up in a beautiful countryside my children are able to experience every year.

Charles, my eldest friend and I, in my parent's garden.

When I moved to the Philippines, it was a natural move. I felt it was the next step I had to take. It was not hard, not heartbreaking, not challenging. Just natural.
I was not escaping a hard past, a relationship or a terrible country.
I was exploring and taking a step towards my independence and most importantly, I was making my own choice.
My parents raised us to be free to choose what we wanted to be (even though now, they may have doubts it was ever a good idea: it was, really).

Once I moved here, I never thought I could feel the need of coming back home.
I am happy here, I built my life here, grew my family here.
And even if I loved my country for the beauty of it, I left a country that was going through an economic crisis and where opportunities for people my age were not really great.

Playing at the park in France

I was never homesick. Just extremely happy to go home every year and enjoy great time with family and friends, amazing food and beautiful road trips. I was enjoying being a tourist in my birth country.

I felt like I had the best of both Worlds.
And I still do.

Once I gave birth to Alia though, things started to shift very slowly.
I rediscovered France with another eye.
I started feeling a pinch of homesickness every time I would think about something I used to do or eat at her age and how I wanted her to experience it.

Daddy Yo, Alia and Gaia in Anilao

The first two years of Alia's life, we kept going to France and visit only for a month. But when Daddy Yo went to work abroad for the first time, Alia and my pregnant self went to visit my parents. I was planning on staying a month but when complications with my pregnancy came, I had to extend another month. When it was time to go home, I realised it was the first time since I left my birth country that I stayed such a long period there. And on top of that, we did not travel around like the other years, we mainly stayed in the home I grew up in. It gave me a great amount of time to see friends and hang out with family.


When Daddy Yo went to work abroad for the second year, I thought: I really enjoyed being in France for two full months! Usually, we were only staying 4 weeks, travelled around for 2 full weeks and had very little time to see all the people we wanted to see. We would manage to squeeze in one dinner or lunch with every person we wanted to spend time with, which was not enough to really get to enjoy their presence and catch up with them.

So that second year, I decided to stay two months again. And the end of these two months came so quickly. Of course, it was awesome as we were going to visit Daddy Yo where he was working, so it was one more family adventure. But, all these trips and plane alone with two children wore me out. I went home exhausted and kept on being sick. Dengue virus was the last warning my body was giving me to make me understand I was tired and needed a little rest.

Playing in a wooden playground near a pond in France

This year, we took the decision to only go to France. No visit to Daddy Yo, which was a big and hard decision but a wiser one. And I asked my parents if they minded adopting me and the two girls for three long months. It felt amazing to be there. My mom was freshly retired so I had extra hands to help. My sister and I never had such a great bonding and she spent some great time with her two nieces. We got to spend so much time with my family and I got to spend much time with childhood friends, old and new friends. I even received, over a weekend, one of my very best friend who was visiting her in-laws from Australia. I have not seen her for 9 years and our children (who are the exact same age) met for the first time. They instantly became such amazing friends, it was heartwarming to see!


We had the opportunity to enroll Alia to kindergarden for the two last months of school year, so she could have activities and improve her french. Schools in France are free and mandatory so any child with a French citizenship is welcome anytime to join a new school. It has been a great experience for her! She is now speaking fluently in french to me, had a great time visiting the farm, playing with kids of the village where we live, getting to know the customs in France.

First day of school with warm clothes, new language, new classmates: Fun time!

School fair in Alia's school

I also spent some quality time with some very dear family members who are sick.
I may live on the beach and enjoy life where I am, but as an immigrant living far away from my own country, I am missing things out. This includes being present for your loved ones when they are going through hard time, sickness, problems, depression, or are just getting old. And it sometimes feels so heavy and challenging. I do sometimes feel like I am not fulfilling my role of friend, grand-daughter, cousin, niece...

 



We got to enjoy quality food, organic vegetables, good quality meat, amazing cheese. Food that I am not scared of putting in my daughter's body thinking of all the hidden antibiotics and GMO that might make them pubescent too early. Alia and Gaia took some poney lessons, rode the carousel endlessly, ran in the fields, went to the cinema to see beautiful indie children movies, visited a farm, baked with my sister, made a fire in the chimney when it was cold, jumped in the inflatable pool when it was hot, ran around and played with friends, mowed the lawn with their grand-dad, gardened and planted and watered flowers (and picked a lot on the way), played piano, learned how to behave in a restaurant, enjoyed food, food and more food, had a road trip in Switzerland to visit more family...

    

                                                        

I was also in France during a very painful time for all of us. Terror attacks.
The past ones that happened, I was in the Philippines. I felt lonely. It was just an awful event that had happened in the news for most people around me. And even if I could talk about it with Daddy Yo or a few other people, it kept on following me every second of the day for weeks.
It happened in my streets, to my friends, friends of my friends. I was far away. I could not hug them. I could not join the protests and the walks and reflect on what happened in the streets of the district I called home for 6 years in Paris.

A fire in the chimney to warm our hearts and soul

When the attacks happened on July 14th and a few days after again, it felt horrific and scary. But as weird as it sounds, I was surrounded by people who would talk about it and share my feelings. It did not drive me as crazy as the attacks of November and January 2015 because I could unload what I felt with people who felt the same way. I was there and I could share my pain. And my pain was lighter just by sharing it.

Yes, I have the best of both Worlds. And I want to keep it this way.
But it can also be challenging to jump from one World to another.
This is when you realise you can also be homesick for people.

The beautiful Eiffel Tower a few days after the attack in Nice, France.