The Whole 9 Yards

Life through my eyes.

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  • Tahan na.

    Recently, I made one of the best decisions of my life: I went home to the Philippines for a week to watch my best friend walk down the aisle.

    I spent ten days in Manila with my two-year-old daughter. That entire trip was transformative. I needed it for many reasons, but for now, I want to write about what it taught me about love.

    One of my favorite moments of the wedding—and perhaps of the entire trip—was witnessing the first dance of the bride, Alexa, my best friend, and her groom, Sef. My eyes were fixed on her. The way she rested her head on her husband’s chest, tears streaming down her face, yet her heart was so visibly at peace. Her happiness radiated.

    No amount of money could buy that moment, and I’m so grateful I was there to witness it in person. She was so happy. So at peace. So beautiful.

    I went home for Alexa, but that trip changed something in me. I felt deeply loved, truly seen, and genuinely heard.

    The last time I had been home was in May of 2024. The year and a half that followed felt like the ground beneath me had collapsed, forcing me to rebuild my life from the rubble. Coming home after all of that felt different—para bang first time kong nakapag-pahinga ng husto. After a year and a half of sacrifice, grinding, and holding it together, I had a week to simply be. To cry, to laugh, and to truly rest.

    My best friends went above and beyond for me; they always do. Every time we went out, they rushed to my side to help me set up the stroller with Mia, push her around, and play with her. None of them are parents yet, but they never once made me feel like things were any different.

    The night before my flight back, I had a heart-to-heart with my best friends. I told them how grateful I was for the way they love me, and how even if we don’t see each other yearly or talk regularly, it feels as though no time has passed. My best friend Mica, who took an entire week off work just to be with me every day, brushed off saying it was nothing. Then she said, “We do this because we want you to always come home.”

    And maybe that’s the truth I’m still carrying with me: to be loved the way my best friends love me is to be told, gently, you can rest.

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  • The only time I hated Homegoods

    I absolutely love HomeGoods. I love their candles, their cheesy little mugs, their random stuff that you never knew you needed. It’s my happy place. But back in 2022, I had one experience that made me boycott them for a while.

    At the time, I was living in a predominantly white city in Orange County. It was my first apartment, a two-bedroom with a cute little patio. To me, that place was perfect. It felt like the start of my adult life.

    About two weeks after giving birth, I decided to treat myself and go on a HomeGoods run.

    The store was packed that day. The line stretched through the aisles. I filled my cart with the most random things — a few candles, a shelf for those candles, and a little side table (which was lowkey for the candles as well). I was in there alone, making my way through each section, while my partner was in the car with our newborn. I had a really good time, and I remember thinking, wow, I may just be myself again.

    After my little retail therapy, I finally decided that what I had in my cart was everything I could ever want that day. I then made my way to the register.

    Like any regular store, after you pay, you walk out. So, I did the same. But as I was walking toward the exit, a HomeGoods employee suddenly stopped me. She asked, “Have you paid for those?”

    No one was stopped by the door the entire time I was in that store. I was even in line for a while because of how much people were in there that day.

    It was obvious that I’d just come from the register. How could I possibly get those HomeGoods plastic bags from behind the counter and put my candles in them? I don’t know what kind of mental gymnastics that lasy in her head to conclude that a woman walking straight from the register would walk out of the store without paying.

    Also, I wouldn’t have gotten away with a shelf and side table in my cart. Can you imagine how big those are? Not even HomeGoods police could miss that. To get it over with, I sternly said yes. But she didn’t seem convinced. She looked me up and down and said, “Can I see your receipt?”

    Holy sh…… Against my will, I took the receipt out of my bag and stuck it in her face because she probably couldn’t see clearly for asking the obvious. She said thanks, and I walked out without a word.

    I glanced behind me. I saw the older white woman who was right before me in line walk straight out the door without being stopped. No questions, no receipt check.

    What the fuck? That racist bitch.

    Now, what happened afterward? Well, I exclusively shop at Macy’s now for my random home needs. Just kidding, I still hit HomeGoods every now and then.

    The anger toward HomeGoods disappeared over time, but that experience is etched in my brain. I never forget. And to note, that’s not even the worst I’ve encountered when it comes to discrimination.

    I feel sorry for those who have ever faced discrimination. But I feel even more sorry for those who do it. Targeting someone for their skin color, sexuality, or gender. How empty must you be inside to get satisfaction from that? How pathetic to feel superior by tearing someone else down, using nothing but blind bias as your reason. Ew.

    In today’s political climate, that kind of behavior seems to be encouraged by these radical beliefs floating around online. And as an immigrant, I came to this country almost ignorant of that culture. My thinking was: racism is an American problem. But as time passed, I realized it is my problem, because as an immigrant, America is also my home.

    This HomeGoods incident isn’t my only encounter with discrimination, but it’s the one that shows how deeply rooted such behavior is in this country’s history.

    Sometimes racism doesn’t scream. It shows up quietly, in moments like this — subtle enough for others to miss, but loud enough to stay with you long after you’ve left the store.

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  • Resilience & Kindness

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s the trait you value most about yourself?
    View all responses

    This question comes at the perfect time. I just started graduate school last month, and one of my first assignments was to ask ten people to share a moment when they felt I was at my best. Reading through their responses was humbling, emotional, and eye-opening.

    A word that came up again and again was resilience. Looking back, I think that’s true. In my 27 years, I’ve lived through many different versions of myself, and in each season—good or bad—I’ve managed to make the best of it. My mom’s response especially stayed with me. She wrote:

    “She manages difficult times with grace and without flinching. She will always make her daughter feel safe, loved, and understood. It’s inspiring to watch how she balances her own needs with those of her daughter, Mia. I see her love in the way she patiently explains things to Mia and the way she always seems to know when a hug is needed more than anything else. My daughter Margaux, kind, resilient, brave, loving, passionate.”

    Reading those words from my mom reminded me that resilience isn’t just about pushing through. It’s also about love, grace, and the quiet ways I show up for the people who matter most.

    Another theme that surfaced was my kindness. My best friend recalled the time I joined UNICEF, and she wrote, “helping others is at her core.” That line touched my heart. Although kindness subconsciously drove my decisions and actions, I never really penned it in the beautiful way that she did. I realized she’s right, helping others is at my core. Another best friend of mine, with honesty I truly value, said: “She sometimes is too kind, so people take advantage of her.” Then he added, “But to their surprise, she is also not one to back down.” Period. That second line is a story for another time.

    Those two words—resilience and kindness—feel like the heartbeat of who I am. They show up in the way I parent, the way I love my own parents, brothers, and friends, the way I work, and the way I fight for what matters.

    I’m beyond grateful for the people who truly see me.

    I am so happy that resilience and kindness are the traits people see most in me, and I’m excited to grow into them even more fully.

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  • Without Announcement

    The past is my safe space.
    It asks nothing of me and holds no surprises.
    No matter how much I pray, or hope, or manifest,
    there is nothing more I can change.

    There is a silent power in looking back to say,
    you have no hold on me anymore.

    Although deep down that is a lie,
    because I find comfort in knowing the ending
    And it is that certainty
    that I find comfort in.

    And yet the present won’t hold still

    My daughter has begun to say,
    “I yayu, Mommy,”
    and the sound is so tender
    it almost breaks me.

    She’s taller now; her face is changing.
    Her hands are still small,
    but not as tiny as I first held them.
    Even her feet have grown.

    She loves to run—
    as if she’s already taken
    a small step toward tomorrow.

    How much longer do I get to keep this age—
    hers and mine?
    Will the end slip past me quietly,
    without a moment to announce itself?

    One day she will speak in full sentences,
    yet in my heart I will still hear
    the small, breathy voice
    that once said “mama” for the first time.

    The best time of my life is now.
    And tomorrow—
    tomorrow.

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  • Tequila Rose

    When there was tequila rose in our fridge I would always sneak a glass. I’d fill my glass up with ice and pour an amount that’s “just right” — the sweet spot between my satisfaction and the bottle weighing the same. I’d take the glass to my room, and do whatever it was that kept me occupied at that time. College, work, friends.

    Yesterday as I was scanning through the the aisles at our local BevMo, a sleek black bottle with a pink rose emblem caught my eye. It stood there like an old friend in the crowd. Tequila Rose. It’s not usually my choice of drink anymore, but this weekend feels special so I decided to bring it home with me.

    Lately, I’ve felt a quiet pull toward home. I’ve been too busy with motherhood and work to let nostalgia truly settle in, and when longing tries to linger, it never gets the chance to stay. Maybe I haven’t been letting it stay. But tonight, I welcome it — and I’ll sit with it for a while.

    The longer I live here in America, the more I feel the distance widen. With each passing year, I seem farther from my dad, my best friends, and somehow even from the dreams I once held close. It’s a little scary. I know I’ll never lose sight of home… but what if home loses sight of me?

    As I am writing this, I am sipping on a glass of tequila rose. I don’t have to sneak anymore, and “just right” now only means whatever amount I please. Tequila rose tastes the same — creamy, sweet, familiar. Delicious as it always was, but newly delicate. A piece of the past. And tonight, it’s the closest I can get to home.

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  • Glee

    When I was in the third grade, I auditioned for the glee club alongside my best friend Zac. I remember us standing beside each other in the music room, waiting for our music teacher to begin auditions.  

    We both prepared a song to perform. I forgot what Zac sang, but I went with the song “Bubbly” by Colbie Caillat, which was my favorite at the time. After we took our turns singing our little hearts out, she asked both of us to step out of the music room. A few moments later, she called Zac back in and invited him to attend practice the following week.

    I remember that afternoon vividly, not because my dream of becoming a pop star was instantly shattered by our music teacher in front of my best friend, but because the same best friend never let me forget about it. LOL. In all seriousness, our music teacher was very passionate about her craft, and I always admired her for that. As for Zac, he has always been a fantastic singer.

    It’s funny because each time I sing to my daughter now, she dances. It doesn’t matter if I’m singing a dance song, a kid’s song, or a ballad in Tagalog; Mia will just dance. One time, she threw a major tantrum while we were in the car. I tried giving her snacks and toys, yet nothing would console her. Then I started singing the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” in a slower tune, and she became silent, calmed down, and did the little hand spiders with me.

    I may not have made it to my grade school glee club, but now I have a daughter who makes me feel like I’m the best singer in the entire world.

    I’ve faced many rejections in my life; some were small and insignificant, while others were big enough to break my heart and shake my beliefs. Regardless of its magnitude, each rejection made me question, am I not good enough?

    Then I became a mom, and every day my daughter looks at me with her little bright eyes, as if I put all the stars in the sky.

    All the love and acceptance that I yearned for in my life was given to me in one tiny human.

    Oh, what glee.

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  • My brothers

    Daily writing prompt
    Share a story about someone who had a positive impact on your life.
    View all responses

    I have two brothers. The older one is Miguel, but I call him Kuya. He went home to the Philippines for the weekend to pick up his family and move them to America. This is one of the biggest moments of my brother’s life, and I’m so proud of him.

    The same weekend, I received an unusually sweet message from one of my best friends. He was drinking with my brothers that night, so I instantly knew that Kuya told him something.


    I first called my younger brother, Anton, to ask him what kuya could have shared with them. He said that Kuya told them about what I’ve been through these past months, and he teared up when he said that I kept pushing my goals back for my family. Awwwwww kuya 😦

    It reminded me of last Thanksgiving. My mom and I were fighting while all of us were on FaceTime. Kuya broke the ice by saying how thankful he is for our mom because without her, we wouldn’t be here in America. He then thanked me for my strength and told me that I’m doing a good job raising his niece. Awwwwwww.

    When Anton and I called him, he was too hungover to talk about what he told our friends, LOL. Despite being hungover, he looked so happy. He and his beautiful wife, Merey, were glowing in Joy. Their baby was in between them playing. And they just looked so at peace with each other. Gosh, my heart. They are finally going to be all together for good. They both worked very hard for this moment, and I am so incredibly proud of them.

    Kuya is the brother I turn to when I need a higher perspective. He is very smart, straightforward, and honest. We don’t lie to each other. My dad established the importance of trust in us growing up. So we all grew up with a moral compass rooted in integrity, and Kuya, being the eldest, set the best example for Anton and me. So, I call him if I want to hear the truth about a situation. Even if he knows I will disagree, he tells me anyway.

    Now, when I need to talk to someone that’s always on my side, no matter what, I call my little brother Anton. Anton is the life of any party. He is hilarious, sweet, and intelligent like Kuya (and me, of course!!).

    Last month, I had a fight with my mom (again, lol), and I told Anton about it. The next day, my mom and I made up (as usual), and she told me that Anton had called her to tell her how I felt about what she did. I was so touched by that because Anton is my baby brother, and I should be his protector, and in that little gesture, it’s like he was protecting me. Awwww, Anton.

    Oh, to be talked about the way my brothers talk about me in rooms I’m not in. I’m so lucky.

    My brothers and I call each other a few times each week. Most days we’ll be laughing throughout the call, making fun of each other’s personal lives or about some random TikTok, and there are some days that the call is calmer. I remember when I was going through a tough time last year, my brothers would check up on me. When Anton asks, “okay ka lang Ate?” , that’s my cue to tell them everything.

    They hold space for me to be vulnerable, and release the heaviness I carry. I am so grateful for them. They hold a safe space for me. Even if they’ve seen me at my lowest, they still think I’m the best.

    They’re the best too.

    Kuya and Anton are going through major transitions this year. Kuya brought his family over from the Philippines, while Anton is graduating from college. I’m so, so proud of both of them. Bravo brothers!! Well deserved!!!

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  • Cocoon

    Finally closed another chapter in my life… we’ve officially moved out of our home in Southern California! Let’s all take a collective sigh of relief….Thank you God, Universe, Angels. If I had to ride a truck for seven hours again. I don’t know.

    I can’t even describe the anxiety I was feeling when we were driving down grapevine road right outside LA. The first time we did it was even worse because we were driving a 15” truck and while towing our 2013 highlander with our dogs in it. If I had pearls, consider them clutched!

    I thought I would be used to relocating by now, after moving to America from the Philippines when I was 23. Yet, a familiar heaviness dawned upon me when I took one last look at the place I used to call home.

    I got approved for that townhouse during a very difficult period in my life. God knows how much I had to endure and sacrifice during those times. I take pride in being able to secure that place for my family. That home was always meant to be a temporary space. A place to rest in times of uncertainty, and those were times of great uncertainty.

    On August 1, 2024, we moved into this newly built town home in Chino Hills. It was beautiful. High ceilings, big windows, hard wood floors, beautiful views of a suburban neighborhood. When you enter you the house you’ll immediately be met with a stair case that leads to the living area – open layout of the kitchen, dining, and living room. Three big windows with the view of the community and the park. I loved the natural light. I had a black-and white wall of art on one side of the wall then art of brown and gold. When you walk to the second set of stairs you’ll see my daughter’s first ever painting framed in gray. On the floor above were three bedrooms and two full bathrooms. The space was nice, but my personal favorite part of living there was being able to see the sunrise on one side of the house and seeing the sunset on the other.

    Our time in that home was beautiful. My daughter took her first steps in her play room. She painted her first painting in the living room. She fell in love with bubble baths in our master bathroom. There were good days, great days, bad days, days for home-cooked meals, days for take-out, days when we would get up and go to Disneyland on a whim, days we would stay in and binge watch Mark Weins.

    I also loved our location. We were a couple of minutes away from LA and OC. Two hours from San Diego. Four hours from Vegas. Ten minutes from Costco. Five minutes from target. Five minutes from the Asian market. Oh and I especially loved how there was a farmer’s market on weekdays.

    BUT – the living arrangement we had wasn’t sustainable. It felt as though I carried the majority of the responsibility. My boyfriend took a job seven hours away from home and he had to drive out every other week. Leaving me alone and stuck at home for seven to ten days at a time. I was also working remote, while taking care of our daughter, our sons (dogs), the house, etc.

    There were many moments where I thought to myself – damn, I’m a full grown adult. I got to do this myself. Broken furniture and fixtures, were okay but I hated having to deal with rats. I missed my dad during those times, not because I wish he dealt with them for me (ok, maybe a little) but I know he wouldn’t let me deal with the guy stuff. I’m very thankful for all the lessons my parents instilled in me growing up, they come in handy in times that I’m all alone. Sometimes you just gotta roll your sleeves up and take the trash out *wink*.

    Honestly, it was also hard because I felt guilty each time I caught one. They’re so cute and my daughter loves ratatouille. But, at the same time, they were going through our pantry, pots and, pans. It was hazardous to our health to keep them around. One time I caught a little one with a sticky trap and the little guy was still moving, I tried to help him out by pouring some oil to make it slippery for him, but I think I just expedited his demise 😦

    Although I was almost always alone, I barely had time to myself. The most me-time I would get is an hour or two before bed at night, if I was lucky enough my daughter would sleep early. I cherished each unhurried bath or unbothered down time I had. It was during our time in that home that I became even more protective of my own energy, time, and space.

    That entire chapter was exactly what I needed. I needed my solitude to process the past few years of my life, from pregnancy to present. I had to reassess and reevaluate the who, what, when, where, whys and hows. And now well,

    “It rained in my head for months, but now look at all the flowers.”

    That home was my cocoon. It was the place that kept us safe while transformations were ongoing. In metamorphosis of a butterfly, caterpillars are unaware of their impending transformation. They have no idea that in just a matter of days, they will grow wings and be able to fly, gaining a newer, higher perspective on life. Likewise..

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  • Dear Amelia

    Oh my, where do I begin, my love?

    Just the other day when you were giggling away I wrote “Mia’s laugh sounds the same as it was when she was only three months old.”

    When we woke up yesterday, you gave Momma the biggest hug. I love it when you wake up in a cuddly mood. You have a complete set of teeth, the fullest pink lips (a combination of mine and your dad’s), and your eyes—gosh, they’re so big, bright, and beautiful.

    My little love, you are so beautiful, intelligent, brave, kind, sweet, and funny. You are all the beautiful things.

    Lately, our life has been a little hectic. We moved to a new home. A new chapter awaits for us here my darling. And by the looks of it, I think you are loving are new space. A little bigger than our old one, and I promise we will stay a longer.

    My love, we’ve been going on more walks, and you’ve been talking much more! You copy words so quickly now. I’m so proud of you. You love to play, read, eat, watch TV, and bath time. You do yoga with momma, and you’re a natural! Your downward facing dog is pristine. But one time you over did it and you fell on your face 😦 It was so cute! And you were extra careful the next few times HAHA.

    You love to run around the house, and I love the sound of your little footsteps. You are currently obsessed with the tiny colored dinosaurs I got you. You love to count them and cook them in your play kitchen. You also love to draw.. but only on the walls.

    I wish I could press pause.

    With your surge in energy, momma sometimes can’t keep up. I’m sorry, Anak, for the times I lost my patience. In the midst of big changes while juggling work, home, and you, momma sometimes gets overwhelmed with everything, especially when you show your big feelings.

    Now I know what Ms. Rachel’s been singing about. You shout so loud, and you are much stronger and more physical with the tantrums, and I find myself lost because I do not want to raise my voice at you but sometimes it’s the only voice you react to.

    Momma will be better. I hate when I do that, so I will study more. Actually, my love, I began reading my first parenting book. I never read one because I felt like being a mom was something I wanted to do intuitively. I usually read articles online, but I’ve never picked up whole book.

    There’s a first for everything. And right now, as you grow, I need my knowledge about toddlers to grow. I want to learn how to effectively communicate with you.

    I don’t want you to grow up in a home where voices are raised, so momma will work on it. You just be you, anak, and let momma do the rest. I will make sure to build a peaceful home full of love, laughter, and support.

    I know sometimes momma is strict, and, I know you do not like the word “No”. Understand my love that momma will never say “no” unless it’s wrong or bad for you. I would never want to upset my little girl.

    Momma always wants the best for you. Momma wants Amelia to always be safe, happy, and to grow up to be a good person….and my love every day you are a good girl. Your beautiful heart shines in the mundane moments and I’m so so proud of you.

    Anyway, my love, you are amazing. You are my joy and you are my calm… even if you are also the storm sometimes! Lol. The months are just flying by, and soon, you will turn two. Two years of you already.

    Best two years of my life so far.

    I love you more than life, my little Mia. Momma will work extra hard to give you the best life.

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  • It’s not about the Flowers

    I love flowers. I fill our home with flowers. Even when I didn’t have my own place, I bought myself flowers all the time.

    My love for flowers began back in 6th grade. We had a three-day retreat, then when we came back to school, our school surprised us with our parents waiting for us. My dad had a beautiful boquet in his arm wrapped in blue paper and a light blue journal to match (that I still have to this day). I felt so special.

    When I moved to the U.S., before having my daughter, I sent flowers to my best friends and family on their special day. It was my way of showing my love from afar. I want the people I love to feel as special as I do when someone gives me flowers.

    This year I celebrated my first mother’s day. We were in the Philippines. My boyfriend, my daughter’s dad, didn’t get me anything. No card. No flowers. No nothing. There were many points in our relationship that disappointed me but this was one that broke my heart.

    Moms get one day in a year to cherish our sacrifice in pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood. One day. I only get one first mother’s day ever. And he didn’t celebrate that.

    To think that the day before mother’s day we were at a mall where there were flowers everywhere. I’m so protective of myself that even I reminded him each weekend leading up to that day to get me flowers, because I just knew how much it would hurt if he didn’t get me anything for my first mother’s day, and he didn’t.

    My bestfriends got me a cake that had “best mom ever”, and my brothers got me cookies too. The only person who actually saw me through it all did nothing.

    Life is hard. That’s a given, but shouldn’t having a partner make it a tad easier?

    I wrote this a few months back. Today is March 6, 2025. And we’ve moved into a beautiful home in a different city. Everything is new, except us. My birthday and valentine’s day passed, and he still didn’t get me flowers.

    …..It’s not about the flowers

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About Me

Hello, I’m Margaux.

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