There was a time when my dad passed away, and we sold his massive house in the States and moved the family back to the Philippines. Cheaper living here. I could’ve quit my day job then. Maybe I should’ve. But I chose, back then, not to be a full-time novelist. I chose that for a reason, even if I had a few good reasons to quit back then too.
I chose, as a teenager, not to live with my nose stuck to the screen for video games. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to find a way to help my beloved country change for the better.
And my day job means I can make a difference in the lives of many. Make a difference where it matters. Face the challenges that I’m suited for, that others may not be able to handle.
And isn’t that why I used to write love letters to ‘My Dearest Philippines’? Make promises to tackle the problems that my grandparents were unable to solve and that my parents were unable to face?
In my day job, I make a difference. And in my free time, I do so too, whether as a volunteer or as a mentor.
That sense of fulfillment… Can I find it anywhere else?