IN ANOTHER life, I must have been a jellyfish. Like being coerced by the ocean currents, I follow whatever path life offers up to me. Whenever my mom would ask “Anak, do you want to go to the mall?” my typical reply would be “Okay,” accompanied by an inoffensive shrug. If my sister wanted to go to a convention, I would accompany her with no complaints—and yes, I would jump off a bridge if everyone else did.
I have had this indifferent attitude for as long as I can remember. Even in middle school, I was always the kind of person who “floats” around, never truly committing to a circle of friends. Whether they were queer, nerds, or jocks, whoever I hung out with for the day was determined by the first opportunity that presented itself. Some days, I would be sitting on the sidelines watching the varsity team playing basketball. On other days, I would hang out with the “cool kids” listening in on the latest drama.
However, being able to join any clique also meant I never really had a solid circle. I had become comfortable enough in this nomadic way of living that I became afraid of getting too attached to people. Most of my relationships were shallow, so sharing secrets or staying over at a friend’s house felt foreign to me. Even my crushes were merely shallow interests, often short-lived.
Anyone who has known me for some time may have also noticed how I never really say goodbye—a habit I have brought with me to college. However, I have not noticed this habit, nor my indifferent attitude, until my friends pointed it out to me. I was even called a ghost the way I would disappear sometimes without a trace.
To them, it was a cute jest; but to me, I realized how distant I am from people. I had built a fortress that I never knew existed, until someone came knocking from the other side. More than that however, the knocking opened my eyes to how cramped the walls I set for myself were. Not only have I found people who allow me to be vulnerable, but people I want to be vulnerable around. Suddenly, I found myself asking: “What am I protecting myself from?”
As of writing this, the walls are still built. After all, Rome was not destroyed in a day either. Nonetheless, the walls are crumbling; I am sure of that. I have slept over at a friend’s place and spilled secrets that the old me would have nightmares about.
Without a doubt, out of all my memories, the few I cherish the most are those eating with friends. It does not have to be at a fancy restaurant; even a cheap cafe along Katipunan Avenue is special. There is a comforting feeling while eating alongside friends, listening in on their conversation. It is warm, this shared companionship, like a fireplace within the cold confines of my walls. It is a warmth that reminds me of home.
Opening up may be scary, but it is liberating. It may be years before I finally break free from the currents I have been drifting with for my whole life. In the meantime, however, I am glad to have a school of fish to keep me company.
Waleed is a sophomore studying Computer Science who is expected to graduate from the Ateneo de Manila University in 2026. With his knowledge for programming, he hopes to make meaningful web experiences.
Editor’s Note: The views and opinions expressed by the opinion writer do not necessarily state or reflect those of the publication.
