“Alexa, Set Me an Appointment at EO”

Royo, Faith Anne | CNF, College Essay

I hate wearing eyeglasses, but at the same time I love them. Must be nonsense to start this with that
statement but I have a point, here me out. It’s amazing how the world looks differently the same with and without
my glasses on. God, that tree looks so small and its structure is unique, but when I wear my glasses, God, how
did it become bigger? I love how glasses mirror my very mind speculations of things circulating around. I hate
how it censors my ability to use my naked eye to see things clearly when I know very well that I could only grasp
the surface even if I could see clearly without any glasses on. I think the point is not pointing, wait. If you ask a
person who wears glasses for a decade, they say that life is bearable with glasses because they’re convenient. But
if you ask me, one who wears glasses for only just a few years now, I would say they’re a nuisance. And that’s
my point. Just like how glasses make the world differently the same for everyone: life in general, is and will
never be the same for everyone. Shall we sit for a moment, grab a coffee, and ponder t it?
The meticulous sequencing of experiences in one’s life, as if it were drawn in the constellation of stars
distinctively for each person guiding them through life in invisible strings—is an aesthetic mystery to humanity.
Yet, it is the inevitability that we could not ever control that can manifest into anxiety, anguish, and emotional
turmoil. In irony, the best and astonishing moments of life are the ones we don’t expect and majority of those
moments we want to delete are the ones we were expecting to turn out beautiful. A damnation. During Sundays, I
have my burnt toast and a well-made coffee and even though I planned an all-set breakfast, I tended to make a
lazy version. And in days, it troubles me. That I feel like I am not the one in control of the steering wheel of my
journey and it’s anxious thinking that someone is doing the job for me. The idea of burnt toasts every Sundays
instead of fried rice with omelette is boring. The idea of everyday routine in a month is no exciting. If that’s how
life is being drawn in the stars, God, could I just have my own galaxy to design?
I grew up in a very Asian household. And you know what I mean about that? It was toxic. I was raised in
a verbally abusive and an insensitive community that it left me an emotional legacy as I grew up throughout the
years. I am not validating my actions today with the emotional turmoil of yesterdays. When I tend to get
frustrated, I relapse and I shout. And as much as I hate someone shouting at me, I exercise the abuse of doing so
to someone. And yeah, it’s not good and healthy. When I feel like something is not right, I escape reality despite
knowing that someone out there will be carrying the pain I unintentionally passed to them just because I refuse to
address a situation and chose to dispose it. I have this bad habit of passing unwanted responsibilities, you see.
And because I witnessed my parents arguing with each other, I carried that trauma with me this day that when
something falls, or when someone raises their voice, when the teacher slams the door or table—I flinch. And, it’s
not the same for everybody. While I was exposed to shouting and slamming doors, one out there grew up with
their mom’s gentle voice. While I was raised to be strong at such a young age by disregarding my feelings,
someone out there was raised to be independent with guidance and affection. Whenever I shout, someone out
there talks with kindness. When I dispose a problem, someone out there upholds responsibility. It is and will
never be the same for everybody. Growing up was easy for me, while others curse life for its scrutiny. Maybe
because I was introduced to hardships and pain at a very early age that when I face setbacks in life, when I meet
with breakdowns, and I pass by sadness, I’ll be drinking my coffee comfortably on my seat as I watch them go all
over against me knowing very well they would hurt me like an anaconda bite but I’ll still be able to stand
unbothered by the pain as I make another coffee to drink for the rest of the time.
 I’m already eighteen. I’m well-minded. I’m aware. I know a lot. I’m learning a lot. But life will always be
a puzzle to me that I would always fail to understand and solve just like how it’s like with Mathematics. And
when I wear my glasses, life is a complicated situation that I understand just like how it’s like with Economics.
You see, I could never survive a day now without my glasses. Despite being seated near the board; I still have to
squint closer to clearly read what’s written. Someone I know would be waving at me and I would look like I
remorse them when I couldn’t really just identify them without squinting my eyes. And I realized then that life
without glasses is a Mathematics session with a teacher who just translates what’s written in the module to
Tagalog and it totally doesn’t make sense. But when I wear my glasses, good heavens, I understand why we
couldn’t just print and print money because I learned in a clear way why as in Economics.
The sequencing of events, planned or unplanned, as if they were structured for a good thesis statement is
ridiculous. I may be eighteen now with a timetable and a distinct career plan but on the back of my mind, I will
always have that fear of the uncertainty of what would come tomorrow and the probabilities of me taking a
different road from what I planned. And I’m scared of that. Despite the spontaneous character I have, I am and
will never be confident enough to take U-turns from the plans I created from concrete cement of dreams and
passion combined. I am afraid of change as much as I need it. That’s why I prefer to just eat burnt toasts on
Sundays even though I could cook another breakfast because every small little thing I do will always have an after
effect in the lifestyle I am creating for myself in the near future. God, what would happen if I cook omelette this
Sunday instead of toasts? Would I still be able to conquer the lists of works I listed on my planner when I planned
to do them while having small bites of my toasts? I am afraid to try new things. You can tell me to do them with
my glasses on, but the thought of changing what I have lived throughout a long time will blur the plans I have
made for tomorrows. I want my coffee with just two spoons of sugar, and if I add one more spoon, it will never be
the same again.
I grew up in an Asian household where everyone has their own inferiority and superiority complexities.
That using your voice is a sign of disrespect. Sleeping in is tardiness. Utang na loob is a chain of rules and
respect. And that when you demand for what you deserve is a life and death argument. And I guess the treatments
I received those years made me into someone who craves for affection and love in the simplest way when in fact
those doesn’t even scratch the bare minimum. How am I even supposed to know what’s bare minimum in the first
place anyway? I met a lot of guys who showed me what’s love like in various and unique forms. One showed me
that love is kind. One showed me that love is patient. One showed me that love is graceful. One showed me that
love is painful. One showed me that love covers everything. One showed me that love is dangerous. One should
me that love makes you crazy. One showed that love is worth the risk. And they all told me the same thing—
“Promise.” Yet, just like the winds of Philippines, they all succumbed to heat in a summer breeze. And that “P”
word? It wasn’t a promise of happiness, but a curse of pain. Who am I even joking? All these years, I blamed
myself for the kind of love I have been receiving from everyone. Because I grew up thinking that that’s the kind
of love I deserve. And because I am only familiar with that kind of love, no matter how many times I tell myself
to find a better and a more genuine love, I keep watching myself fall for the same poor kind. But boom, I am a
human who deserves love with no reservations and in the most genuine form.

And it’s not the same for everyone. It will never be the same for everyone.
 I’m now eighteen. Time moves really fast when you’re young and it moves like a turtle when you get
older. Eighteen years in this universe made me a someone I didn’t expect I will turn out to be when I was eight
during elementary. She had a very good set of eyes that could clearly see. She had a free and wild spirit that
everyone admires to have. She was young and naïve of how life works and that made everything bearable for her.
She was having fun during math sessions but now she just wants to dump anything related to that subject matter.
A lot of things changed over a course of time in our lives. And it’s not the same for everyone. While I changed
with a lot of things I disposed, others changed with a lot of things they have gathered. While I grew with a lot of
baggage to carry on my shoulders, others comfortably strode the way with their trolleys of problems.
Years from now, I want to view myself as someone who is strong enough to embrace change and U-turns
in life. I want to be someone who appreciates the world even with or without her glasses on. I want to envision
myself as someone who is full of love and filled with love. She’ll be playing a Lana Del Ray and Taylor Swift
songs in her living room while living her best life. And if ever, she looks back to this age, I hope she could say
that she’s proud of every wrong and stupid decisions I have made today. That she’ll thank me for hating
eyeglasses but I still wear them every day. She’ll thank me for eating toasts every Sunday because it’s practical
and not time consuming. She’ll thank me for the coffees I drank with just two spoons of sugar. She’ll thank me
for all the guys I have met because she’ll probably end up single all her life but at least she’s free from another
responsibility to carry. Years from now, she’ll thank me for the decisions I have made today. She’ll thank me for
who she is and who she was.
I hate wearing eyeglasses but at the same time I love them. I just hope you read in between the lines to be
able to understand the concept to the statement. I hate it when life’s clear in front of me, I love it when it’s blurry.
I hate it when life’s unsure of what to serve me, but I love it when it surprises me with entities, I didn’t know I
need. I love how glasses mirror my very mind speculations of things circulating around. I hate how it censors my
ability to use my naked eye to see things clearly when I know very well that I could only grasp the surface even if
I could see clearly without any glasses on. And I realized that it’s totally okay. It’s totally kay to view life in
whatever way you want to view it. Come on, it’s not about what you see but how you perceive what you see. You
may fall, you may cry, you get pain, you stand up, you rise, you crawl back, and you survive.
I’m already eighteen. I’m well-minded. I’m aware. I know a lot. I’m learning a lot. But life will always be
a puzzle to me that I would always fail to understand and solve just like how it’s like with Mathematics. And
when I wear my glasses, life is a complicated situation that I understand just like how it’s like with Economics.
You see, life is meant to be lived. Life is meant to give you sceneries to perceive. It doesn’t care if you need
glasses to view it perfectly or not. Life just wants you to live. Life just wants to tell you that breathing is merely
living, living isn’t just existing, and existing is underrated survival. Life is not supposed to be clear as always.
Life is supposed to give you a hard time viewing and understanding it. But I hope that when your eyes give you a
blurry focus over your visions, go visit an optometrist.
 “Give Me The Mic, Please”
Royo, Faith Anne A: Creative Nonfiction, Speech

A teacher once told me to use my voice when it’s necessary. She said that I should speak and open my
mouth when I feel the need to speak up about something. She told me not to restrict my right to voice out my
sentiments. She told me that I am an empowered child, and that it would take hundreds of storms to make me
stumble but a hundred of storms won’t be enough to kill me. She told me that I am a wild spirit, I am free and if
you leave me in the wild, I would probably jump in glee. I was only eight that time. I don’t know if she only told
me that to encourage me for my upcoming extemporaneous speech competition but the words she spoke that day
has been imprinted on my mind until now.
I am an ambivert. People tell me I have good public speaking skills yet I’m not really that good of a
conversationalist. I was eight years old when I had my first ever speech competition. It’s still vivid, the moment
was clear as water in my memory. We were given 10 minutes to prepare for the speech. We were given different
topics or questions and we’re given 3-5 minutes to deliver the prepared speech. I read the question on the paper
given to me—how do you see yourself 10 years from now? And my mind went blank. For minutes I just stared
blankly at the paper in my hand. I thought for a moment that what those people said was nothing true. Because if I
am really a good speaker I would know right there and then what to answer to the question. But no, I didn’t have
the answer.
Exactly 10 years had passed since then, I’m 18 now. I have talked a lot; I have said so many things. I have
used my voice when it’s necessary. I have defended people with this voice. I have stood up with this voice. I have
overpassed issues with this voice. I have spoken a lot. And I have made some realizations along the way. Your
voice is powerful but it’s invincible when you use it to speak the right words. So when I decided to use my voice
to speak up against dystopia, injustices, unfair government, and fallacies, my words were powerful enough to
trigger people’s anger and defiance. And the vocal chords I hold inside me lost its ability to produce vibrations to
be converted as voice. And the empowered lady lost its power to stand up and open her mouth—it made her
totally disabled, mentally and emotionally. And suddenly, I was behind that room again, staring at the paper in my
hand. My mind blank and my mouth unable to find words to say. People killed the light in the very candle I was
holding and it totally made, not only my vision, but the perception of my potentials I enclosed in myself.
Yet just like the sun, I rise. And just like the waves, I return. And like the stars in a vast night of darkness,
I shine. I had a one-year hiatus with the media. I returned afterwards—stronger and wiser. You know, it’s not just
the concept of time healing everything that creates ways to moving on and restarting, but also a little bit of
positive gaslighting and manipulation that you’re fine even though you’re not, and the small motivational pushes
every day that brings new light. It is your will to be a new component of a person. It is the power you hold from
the pain of yesterdays that will make you better. It is when you feel that you’re unstoppable that you become
powerful. And darling, that’s a lot for you to hold that they couldn’t. So then, when I redirected my path, I
became a woman with a much louder and firmer voice to hold. Too loud and too firm for anyone to silence.
 “Ten years from now, I hope to see myself very different from who I am right now. I am loud, but I hope
she’s louder. I am smart, but I hope she’s wiser. I am clumsy, but I hope she’s careless. I am sensitive, but I hope
she’s stronger. I’m still eight and I don’t have any clear visions of the future but I hope that life is brighter and
kinder to her. But ten years from now, I wish to see myself still standing in front of stages as she uses her voice
for optimism and inspiration. I have no clear visions, but what I’m sure is, she would be the very person I desire
to be right now.”
A teacher once told me to use my voice when it’s necessary. She said that I should speak and open my
mouth when I feel the need to speak up about something. She told me not to restrict my right to voice out my
sentiments. She told me that I am an empowered child, and that it would take hundreds of storms to make me
stumble but a hundred of storms won’t be enough to kill me. She told me that I am a wild spirit, I am free and if
you leave me in the wild, I would probably jump in glee. I was only eight that time. I don’t know if she only told
me that to encourage me for my upcoming extemporaneous speech competition but the words, she spoke that day
has been imprinted on my mind until now. And my eight-year-old version was right. I am totally different from
who she was then. Yet one thing didn’t change—my voice.
 Royo, Faith Anne A: Creative Nonfiction, Letter

Camp Aguinaldo, Pila West

Sta. Lucia, Ilocos Sur 2712

09 May 2023

To My Own Heart,

How are you? How’s life so far? I just hope you now have a healthy eating and sleeping habits. Are you
eating three times a day? Do you still have that bad caffeine addiction? God, I hope you just consume at least one
cup of coffee for only a day. How far have you come now? Are you still studying? I bet you now have one of your
dream licenses. I’m proud of you. How old are you now? Are you going out with somebody? Or do you already
have a boyfriend? Perhaps, are you already married? God, I pray you’re not. Do you still eat burnt toasts during
Sundays? Do you still put you pen on your bun or clamped hair? Do you still prefer matcha iced latte than a hot
one? I bet that you’re older now, you won’t have to buy at least four tablets of bonamine whenever you’re
traveling? I guess a lot has change in such a course of time now. Well, I’m sending you this letter to remind you
of your worth and everything. I just hope we’re doing really great now.
I was eighteen when I wrote this letter and in the span of 10 years, I hope you’ll be reading this. We
dreamt of becoming a Psychologist and a Lawyer back then. We’re 28 now, what have we already become? I bet
we already finished law school, passed the bar, did the oathtaking already? I hope we’re a Lawyer now! And also,
have we pursued a higher degree of Psychology study? I bet we never get enough of our achievements no matter
how much they tell us that it’s already enough. We’re 28 now, do we already have that Psychometrician and
Legal licenses to practice? Are we currently having our master’s degree or something? Are we planning to get
married or should we just spend our whole life studying and working as if we’re losing out of time?
I was eighteen when I wrote this. I felt like we’re already running out of time back then. I have so many
aspirations and goals for the both of us. Back then, I didn’t know how to move at my own pace because I always
felt like I’m in some sort of a race and I need to finish early or I’ll lose my sanity. Yet if you’re reading this letter,
I hope you know that you have conquered enough giants to tell that you’re successful now. Oh, you went on a
different direction? Whatever, as long as you’re happy. You already got those licenses and professions? God, I
know you could do that. I just want you to know that I am proud of you. Of what you have come along the way.
Of what you have accomplished. Of all your failures. Of all your regrets. You may now slow down. If the fight
isn’t done yet, know that I am rooting for you, always. May we always choose the loving option, always.
God, I love you so much. I pray you love yourself better now. I pray you don’t regret prioritizing yourself
when situation tells you do not. I pray you become the person you’re hoping for. I pray you’re happy now. I pray
you don’t lose yourself along the way. I love you. With my own heart.

Lovingly,
Faith Anne
 “What a Ride for Six Years: A Blog”
Royo, Faith Anne | CNF, Blog

Well, let me tell you about my high school life. It was a spectacular fun ride for me and so, I want to
share the joy of this journey with you.
I was only 12 years old when I entered high school and decided to live away from my parents. It was very
new to me since I have been living under the roof of my parents for such a long time and suddenly being away for
them for years created an anxious spirit within me because independence then was scary. Nevertheless, time flies
so fast I didn’t even notice it. One day, I was packing my things in my new home to be called and the next day,
I’m packing them because the school year has ended and I’m finally going home. Next thing I knew, I’m now
stepping into another grade level again and slowly, I’m getting older. But what an irony, I grew up faster than
how I thought I would be.
And then, pandemic came. Suddenly, I missed the school atmosphere and its breeze and tone. Who would
have thought I would miss school despite then the desperate urges to go home? Well, I guess, CAA is that special.
It offers a serene and familiar feeling of home, it’s a perfect place for the soul, others call it the little heaven here
in earth, while I call it my safe haven and abode. Just like how time flies when I started my high school journey, it
was the also the same during the two years course of struggling with pandemic. Suddenly, I was a Grade 11
student. And right now, I’m on my last year of high school. Those years felt like a blink of an eye. I didn’t even
grasp it until it passed. I regret that I didn’t cherish it when it was still on my hand.
CAA or simpa will always be my second home. It was the vey place I could put down my defenses and
just be who I ever want to be. I will always be at comfort here. And as someone who resided for almost six years,
I will miss those times when I didn’t have to worry about tomorrow except the only thing, I’ll be having a
problem with is the water. I am a member of a religious singing group called Angel Force, I joined several clubs
and organizations, my talents wee hone, I was acknowledged and my potentials increased and improved, I was
corrected and supported, I grew up, and will continue learning for the rest of my life.
CAA is the place where I secured my identity and struggled to keep it. Here, I was taught how to be
mature and be kind to others. Here, I traded with curiosity and ignorance. Here, I chose to participate and lead.
Here, I grew up and learned all the languages of love. I have met friends whom I will treasure for eternity. I have
found home and comfort, in its most serene form. I have found company that felt like home. And most
importantly, I have secured lessons, memories, mistakes, pain, happiness, and everything in between.
I am Faith Anne Royo, I was 12 when I went here and I’ll now be leaving simpa at the age of 18, carrying
loads of baggage, ready for her next journey. Bon Voyage, CAA!