A Psych Mind.

"Bakit ang environmental psychology hindi nabibigyan spotlight, kahit if our country is one of the most vulnerable to natural disasters?"

This was the question I posed to students at the ReLeaf Learning Session last February 24. Thank you so much to the UST Department of Psychology and UST Psychology Society (PsychSoc) for the invite to speak at this event!

The room was filled with attendees eager to learn about the intersection of psychology and environmentalism, and that energy really kept me going throughout the session. As co-lead of the Global Psychology Alliance's Climate Change Working Group, I was grateful for the opportunity to discuss environmental identity and encourage more students to explore environmental psychology.

Year after year, we experience typhoons, flooding, and rising sea levels across the Philippines. Our communities feel the mental health impacts of these climate events firsthand. Yet environmental psychology remains largely absent from our psychology curricula. I believe our students deserve frameworks to understand how environments shape behavior, mental health, and well-being.

I was really glad to see so many students come on their own time, eager to understand how psychology connects to environmental challenges. We simply need to create more spaces for this learning.

I look forward to seeing environmental psychology gain the recognition it deserves in Philippine higher education. Our students are ready for it, and our communities need it.

In my years of teaching psychology, I've come to see uncertainty as a core professional skill. The APA includes "tolerance of ambiguity" as a key learning outcome for psychology students, recognizing that real practice rarely offers neat textbook answers (APA, 2013).

In my own practice, uncertainty keeps me curious and open to learning from clients, from research, and from communities whose experiences challenge what I thought I knew. It also supports ethical practice because acknowledging limits protects both practitioners and the people we serve.

Research also shows that low tolerance for ambiguity correlates with imposter syndrome and exhaustion among trainees (Hancock & Mattick, 2020). Learning to sit with complexity, rather than fighting it, can actually be protective.

I'm grateful to my mentors who modeled this for me, asking questions instead of rushing to conclusions. Now, as an instructor, I try to create that same space for students to explore without needing to be certain.

After passing the psychologist board exam in 2022, I felt more confident. Years of graduate study deepened my theoretical knowledge and understanding. Real clinical work, though, taught me that competence has layers. Technical skill is only one part.

As I teach psychology at UST and supervise students preparing for their own journeys, I keep returning to a few lessons:

Emotional readiness means doing your own inner work. We cannot hold space for others if we are overwhelmed by our own unprocessed experiences.

Ethical grounding is lived daily. It shows in how we respond when no one is watching, when the "right" answer is unclear.

Professional maturity includes recognizing our limits. Seeking supervision and consultation signals that we prioritize client welfare over ego.

Cultural sensitivity matters. Frameworks like the Pagdadala Model remind us that how we carry ourselves into service shapes what we can offer.

Even now, I still seek consultation. I still learn from colleagues and clients alike. The gap between knowing what to do and being ready to do it responsibly is where growth happens.

Our communities need psychologists who carry both skill and conscience.

All those years of theory, all that studying, and yet nothing prepared me for sitting across from someone whose pain couldn't be categorized into the neat frameworks I'd memorized. The gap between what I knew academically and what I could actually do in practice felt enormous.

Looking back at my journey from college to my clinical internship. I've learned a few things I wish someone had shared with me earlier:

Your Western textbooks need Filipino translation. The Pagdadala Model felt abstract in class, but sitting with actual Filipino families, I finally understood why cultural competence isn't optional. What works in theory often needs reshaping for our communities.

I used to think asking for help meant I wasn't ready. My supervisors taught me more in months than years of reading could. If you're starting out, find mentors early and consult often.

Real clients don't fit into textbook categories. Real people are far more complex than the "classic cases" we study in abnormal psychology class. Adaptability will serve you well.

Your mental health is just as important. We can only support others well if we're also looking after our own well-being. I learned this the hard way during my first year balancing teaching and clinical work.

The classmates who believed in me when I doubted myself became the colleagues I turn to for consultation today. Those relationships have shaped my practice more than I expected.

Practice, patience, and the people who've walked this path before you will help you build the rest.

In 2015, I told myself I'd wait until 2016 to take the Psychometrician Licensure Exam. I wasn't worried about needing more preparation time. I was scared of disappointing my professors, my school, and myself.

I've shared pieces of this story before, but lately I've been thinking about it differently. Now, as a lecturer helping future psychometricians prepare for their boards, I see the same fear in my students that I felt back then. The ones who care most seem to doubt themselves most.

One of my professors told me something that stayed with me: "Fear can make you careful and more prepared, instead of making you complacent."

She was right. That fear never fully disappeared, but it pushed me to work harder than I ever had.

After years of teaching and clinical work, I realize how common this experience actually is. Studies suggest that imposter feelings affect a significant majority of professionals across fields. Medical students, lawyers, nurses, psychologists. The fear of being "found out" shows up in so many professions, and it often peaks right before licensure exams because these represent the final gate to a new professional identity.

Looking back, here are things I wish I understood earlier:

Fear before your boards means you care about your future. You can feel nervous and still be prepared.

Doubt and competence can coexist. Feeling uncertain doesn't disqualify you from the profession you're entering.

Taking action despite the fear is what builds real confidence. Waiting to feel ready rarely works.

To psychology students preparing for licensure: your anxiety is valid. Many of your classmates feel the same way, even the ones who seem confident. Showing up and doing the work anyway matters more than waiting for the doubt to disappear.

One mentor reminded me: "You are more than just the questions in the exam."

Back in 2015, that number felt like everything. Review centers started reaching out. My professors at Bulacan State University celebrated with me. For a fresh graduate who had spent countless nights anxious, exhausted, and unsure of himself, it felt like proof that all of it had been worth it.

At the time, I thought that was the destination.

Now—more than a decade later—as a psychology instructor at UST, a consultant psychologist, and someone who has since completed clinical internship, I see that moment very differently.

Two years ago, I found myself in Bahay Kalinga in Santa Maria, Bulacan, facilitating group activities with elderly residents. I was in the middle of questioning my professional direction—quietly asking myself if I was still doing meaningful work. That afternoon, surrounded by lolas and lolos who didn’t care about rankings or credentials, something shifted.

They didn’t need expertise on paper. They just needed presence. Someone to sit with them. Someone who listened. Someone who showed up.

That moment grounded me in a way no exam ever could.

When I look back at my decade in psychology, a few lessons stand out clearly:

1. Credentials open doors—but showing up for people keeps you there. My students don’t remember my board ranking. They remember whether I was present when they were struggling, overwhelmed, or doubting themselves.

2. Timing matters as much as achievement. In 2015, several review centers invited me to teach. I said no—not because I wasn’t capable, but because I wasn’t ready. Now, ten years later, I finally lecture for board exam review, and I know this is the right time—for me and for my students.

3. Clinical wisdom grows through people, not pages. My clinical internship taught me things about development, resilience, and humanity that no textbook or lecture ever fully captured.

4. Community keeps you grounded when credentials start getting loud. Returning to Bulacan and working with communities who aren’t impressed by titles reminds me what effective psychology truly looks like: relevance, humility, and care.

I remain deeply grateful to my mentors at BulSU, CEU, and UST. You reminded me early on that a ranking is only a beginning. You taught me that excellence is reflected in how knowledge is shared, translated, and used in service of others.

To psychology students preparing for the boards: Study hard. Aim high. Do your best.

The exam gets your foot in the door—but everything that comes after is where the real learning begins.

One entry simply read: "Client's story doesn't fit any chapter." I remember staring at that note for a long time.

Completing hours of clinical work while teaching full-time at UST was one of the most challenging periods of my professional life. But looking back, those moments of uncertainty were exactly where I grew the most as a practitioner.

What surprised me was how quickly responsibilities escalated. I started with basic case notes and progressed to writing forensic psychological reports, a completely new territory for me. During trauma-informed case conferences, particularly when discussing VAWC cases, I realized that years of academic preparation still couldn't fully prepare me for the complexity of real clients' experiences.

A few things I learned along the way:

Feeling unprepared is normal. It doesn't mean you missed something in school. Clinical judgment develops in the gap between knowing and doing.

Textbooks give you frameworks. Supervision teaches you when and how to apply them. Find mentors who can help you translate theory into practice for our Filipino context.

Your academic training matters. It gives you a foundation. But expect that foundation to be stretched once you're sitting across from someone who needs your help.

Self-awareness matters just as much as clinical skill. Knowing your limits and seeking consultation shows competence.

To psychology students preparing for practicum or internship: that uncomfortable feeling when theory meets reality is where you become a practitioner.

First time presenting at an international conference. I was so nervous. Totally out of my comfort zone.

Our team presented "Bi+ Reality: An Investigation on Filipinos' Attitude Regarding Bisexuality" at the 4th International and 7th National Gender and Development Research Congress held November 19-21, 2025 at Central Luzon State University, Science City of Muñoz, Nueva Ecija.

We won 3rd Best Paper.

I still can't fully process it. Research on bisexuality remains underexplored in Philippine psychology despite the unique challenges bi+ individuals face. This kind of work needs more attention, and I'm proud our team contributed to that conversation.

Our team: Prof. Marc Eric S. Reyes, Jessica Margarethe M. Aliento, Reizalea Jovette V. Carreon, Riccamae F. Hama, Jermaine Krystal U. Hung, and Karolina Konopka.

Climate change is a mental health issue. And our field is finally recognizing that Indigenous peoples and local communities should be leading our response.

I'm proud to share that the Global Psychology Alliance's Climate Working Group has just released a new factsheet as part of our Climate Work in Action series. Working alongside Sara Ritter, Quinn Hudgen, Rui Gaspar, and Marjolein Overtoom, we developed this resource to outline four action areas for psychologists:

Empowering Indigenous communities to lead climate change mitigation

Building genuine allyship and collaboration

Funding interdisciplinary research that integrates traditional ecological knowledge with psychological science

Supporting the mental health of communities already responding to climate impacts

This resonates deeply with what I've learned about culturally grounded practice here in the Philippines. Our Indigenous communities are on the frontlines of climate change. Effective mental health support means honoring their knowledge systems and community-led solutions.

For my fellow psychology students and practitioners, this is worth reading. It offers concrete guidance on supporting communities and being genuine allies in this work.

Each time I sit down with a community, I’m reminded that real change happens when we take the time to listen.

The more I work directly with people on the ground, the more I realize how important it is to lead with compassion, curiosity, and cultural humility when it comes to mental health. Some of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned aren’t found in textbooks; instead, I hear them in shared kwento, personal experiences, and the trust people extend by allowing me into their stories.

The more I engage with communities across the Philippines, the more I see how psychology thrives when global frameworks meet local wisdom. Recently in my classes, students showed me how cultural practices like bayanihan already embody many principles of community mental health support.

Our approaches, shaped by shared identity, spiritual connection, and collective strength, bring out perspectives that sometimes don’t receive enough attention in mainstream psychology. Instead of seeing global standards and local wisdom as opposites, I see value in bringing them together to build more complete ways of supporting mental wellbeing.

Teaching reminds me that there is so much more to student growth than grades. What matters most is the courage to keep asking, learning, and growing. I see this courage whenever students challenge what they know, connect theories to real life, and approach human behavior with both critical thinking and compassion.

These classroom moments also take me back to my own journey from being a psychology student in Bulacan to becoming an educator. Thank you to my professors at Bulacan State University who taught me that both intellectual rigor and a real sense of curiosity make for truly meaningful work in psychology.

I had the chance to join “Bi+ Reality: An Investigation on Filipinos' Attitude Regarding Bisexuality,” published in Sexuality & Culture. Working on this study shed light on how we think and talk about bisexuality here in the Philippines, but more importantly, it made me appreciate the trust and support built among those involved.

To Doc Marc, Karolina, and my students, Jessica, Reizalea, Riccamae, Jermaine, and , you made this journey both challenging and fulfilling. Your commitment to examining these questions for the sake of real understanding and inclusion will stay with me.

I'm looking forward to bringing these findings to my students at UST, and to future conversations about how we can keep moving mental health and inclusivity forward. If you want to learn more about Filipino attitudes on bisexuality, here’s the full article:

The more I listen to our communities, the clearer it becomes: psychology has the strongest impact when we combine international knowledge with our local wisdom. Working with psychology students, I see their eyes light up when we discuss how Filipino concepts enrich—not compete with—global frameworks.

The work we do here at home shapes what effective mental health support looks like. The stories, practices, and insights from our communities matter and deserve space on the global stage

I realized something important—sometimes our best teaching happens when we let students see the real, sometimes unfinished side of academic work.

Last semester, student questions about biopsychology really pushed me to rework the modules. Instead of neat outlines, the material grew with every revision, side note, and "aha moment" we had together in class.

As instructors, we're often hesitant to let students see materials while they're still a work in progress. But showing how we develop ideas—through plenty of questions, mistakes, and changes—gives them permission to be curious and keep asking. That’s always more important than just having perfect notes.

Every term, I realize that I learn just as much from my students as they do from the lessons. Their insights remind me how much psychology lives in our everyday moments—our kwentuhan, the jokes, even those quiet times of growth together.

Teaching Psychological Assessment reminds me that it's not just about theories on paper; it's about applying them in practice. When students share how these concepts apply to real life, especially in our Filipino context, I find myself seeing things differently as well.

As I prepare my course materials for this term at UST, I'm focusing on activities that encourage both critical thinking and compassionate reflection. In my experience, our future psychologists benefit not just from research methods and theoretical frameworks, but also from hands-on experiences that develop both analytical skills and emotional intelligence.

In my classroom, I've found that the most meaningful learning happens when we create space for students to examine psychological concepts through both academic and personal lenses. Simple icebreaker activities that students enjoy go a long way.

Integrating reflection and rigorous analysis helps us nurture graduates who will genuinely serve our communities as practitioners. I'm grateful to see my UST students embracing this approach as they prepare for their future roles.