what the past has brought me (2/3)

two of three

 

To new experiences;

(2) running after passion and some mishaps

If you have been following me for quite some time now, you’d probably know that I am a Nutritionist-Dietitian. My love for food made me become one. I vividly recall how my Professor asked me when he interviewed me for admissions:

“Why Nutrition and Dietetics?” he said, as he leaned back on his swivel chair.

“I like food and I like to cook, Sir.” I said. A bit disappointed with my answer because it was too shallow. “I want to know the right food to eat if you have this certain illness.” I added, just so it becomes a bit more acceptable.

Fortunately, I got accepted in the program. Got a tres during the first semester. Got a singko during my sophomore year. Became a Dean’s Lister on my third year. And passed my thesis on my fourth year. My life during college was pretty chill. I was an average student. No expectations from parents, and no expectations from anyone. I graduated on time. And passed the licensure exam the same year.

To me, Nutrition and Dietetics is my first love. And I even told myself, I cannot see myself in any other field but this.

But boy, I was wrong. 

Back when I was still in the Uni, I really admired my Professors. While everyone else were ranting about how complicated students’ lives were, I was there, thinking about how Professors were having a much more difficult time. Standing in front of the students for three straight hours, discussing, coaching, mentoring, going home with lots of paper works– I mean? These people are awesome! (except my Physics Prof who failed 80% of my class)

When I finally got hold of my Nutritionist-Dietitian license, I was offered with a job from a non-government organization who partners with different Universities for their Nutrition Practicum. I was a Community Nutrition Supervisor for graduating students of Nutrition and Dietetics. We were assigned to immerse in a small barangay in Bataan. For a month. Fun. We were living together in the same house. Fun. It was like babysitting, but instead, they gave me adults to look after, and some of them were even older than me! Aside from babysitting, I had to make sure that they learn and teach them how to expose their selves in the community. Give interventions, and help the community with the projects they thought of.

Of course, it was difficult. Grown ups were harder to control. They were resilient. And sometimes, they weren’t open for new information, just because “Eto ‘yung tinuro samin sa *insert prestigious school*.”

I thought I was going to fail as an educator.

But, I stood firm. Sought advice from my mentor and went on with it. At the end of my students’ practicum, they all made me a letter of appreciation (without me asking them ha, lmao). Seriously, they all made me cry of happiness when they told me how grateful they were that I was their supervisor.

And, it was then that I knew how much I wanted to be an educator.

A few months later, I was like a proud Mum when they passed their board exams. One of my students even landed a place on the Top 10! I was actually surprised when one of them messaged me, and thanking me for inspiring her to choose the field of Community Nutrition. She told me that she was bummed when their Community Nutrition Practicum was approaching because she hated it so much. But after our immersion, she fell in love with it and eventually landed a job as a Community Nutritionist. It was the best thing ever.

It was 2017 when I drifted apart with my first love, Nutrition and Dietetics. I thought I needed a break, and I remembered how much I wanted to become an educator. I wanted to be a Professor but I haven’t taken any units for Post-Graduate studies, and that is the minimum requirement to be one. If I can’t be a Professor yet, maybe there’s another way to become an educator.

So I became a Pre-School Teacher.

[ more of that on my next blog ]

 

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the truth

It was a quick transition, from together to alone.

It wasn’t as I imagined, it was more like finishing a good book. I thought it would involve unnecessary consumption of ice cream and chocolates, crying myself to sleep and not being able to function at all.

Nights are not as cold, mornings are easy.

Checking my mobile does not include messaging anyone if I ate already, or if I’m dressing up for work.

No reason to stay up late. My body thanks me for always getting enough sleep.

 

I still don’t know if I’m going to regret this in the future. But for now, I feel okay. Everything’s fine. I don’t feel like I’m being needed anyway.


the one where she’s listening to boy pablo while vomiting words

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