mayim 🫀

i don’t think people outside of roleplay spaces will ever understand what it’s like to spend years living through a character.

not days.

not weeks.

years.

long enough that their name starts feeling familiar. long enough that people associate you with them before they even know who you are. long enough that they become a permanent fixture in your daily life without you ever realizing it.

i think i started portraying that character around the pandemic years.

back when the world was slowing down.

back when everyone was locked inside their homes, trying to find comfort wherever they could.

while everyone was learning how to survive isolation, i found myself returning to a fictional person over and over again.

at first, it was just roleplay.

just writing.

just something to pass the time.

but somewhere between the endless replies, the storylines, the group chats, the late-night plotting sessions, and the years that followed, it became something more.

that character witnessed versions of me that no longer exist.

they existed during my lowest moments.

during the friendships i thought would last forever.

during heartbreaks i was convinced would destroy me.

during the nights i couldn’t sleep and found comfort in writing instead of thinking.

during the years when i was still trying to figure out who i was.

and somehow, no matter how much my life changed, they remained.

different timelines.

different roleplay groups.

different friends.

different accounts.

different versions of myself.

but always the same character.

always the same face.

always the same name.

looking back now, it feels strange.

because i can barely remember who i was before them.

for years, opening facebook meant stepping into that world.

it meant checking notifications.

replying to storylines.

interacting with people who knew me only through that portrayal.

it became routine.

it became comfort.

it became home.

and now i’m sitting here realizing that something which occupied such a huge portion of my life is finally ending.

not because i stopped loving it.

not because i hate it now.

but because i’ve simply reached the end of this chapter.

and somehow, that’s what hurts the most.

there was no grand finale.

no dramatic ending.

no final battle.

just time quietly moving forward while i wasn’t paying attention.

one day i looked around and realized that the years had passed.

the people changed.

the communities changed.

and so did i.

sometimes i scroll through old screenshots.

old interactions.

old stories.

old memories frozen in messages that haven’t been opened in years.

and i can’t help but think about the person i used to be.

the one who spent hours perfecting replies.

the one who stayed awake until sunrise because a storyline was too exciting to leave unfinished.

the one who believed those moments would last forever.

i miss her sometimes.

i miss the excitement.

i miss the familiarity.

i miss logging in and instantly knowing where i belonged.

because whether i admitted it or not, roleplay became a part of my identity.

and that character became a part of me.

that’s why saying goodbye feels so difficult.

because i’m not just saying goodbye to a fictional person.

i’m saying goodbye to years of memories attached to them.

i’m saying goodbye to the countless versions of myself that existed through that portrayal.

i’m saying goodbye to the girl who found comfort in escaping into stories when reality felt too heavy.

i’m saying goodbye to an era.

an entire era of my life.

people say they’re “just characters.”

maybe they’re right.

but i don’t think i’ll ever be able to see it that way.

because that character carried pieces of my life for so long.

they were there when i was happy.

they were there when i was grieving.

they were there when i felt lost.

they were there when i was becoming someone new.

and now, for the first time in years, i have to learn how to exist without them.

that’s what nobody tells you.

sometimes roleplay ends.

sometimes communities disappear.

sometimes people move on.

and sometimes you outgrow the stories that once saved you.

but that doesn’t mean they meant any less.

if anything, it means they mattered.

it means they were important enough to leave a mark.

so this is my goodbye.

not to a character.

not really.

it’s a goodbye to a chapter of my life that carried me through some of my most formative years.

a goodbye to the nights spent writing instead of sleeping.

to the friends i met along the way.

to the stories that made me laugh, cry, and stay up until dawn.

to the version of me that grew up behind a borrowed name.

i don’t know if i’ll ever completely let go.

maybe some part of me never will.

maybe years from now i’ll stumble across an old screenshot, an old profile, an old piece of writing, and feel that familiar ache in my chest.

the kind that only comes from missing something that once felt like home.

and maybe that’s okay.

some homes aren’t places.

some homes are stories.

and for a very long time, that story was mine.

thank you for carrying me through the years.

thank you for staying when so many things didn’t.

thank you for being the one constant in a life that changed over and over again.

i’ll miss you more than i can put into words.

seeing them all together again just confirms what i already knew.

it’s funny, really. the same people who claim they don’t care somehow always find the time to talk about us when we’re not around. the same people who act unbothered seem to be the most invested in our lives.

and honestly, it amazes me.

imagine being so affected by someone’s presence that you have to sit around discussing them just to feel better about yourselves. meanwhile, we’re over here minding our own business, living our lives, and somehow that’s still enough to make us a topic of conversation.

the truth is, people who have the most to say behind your back usually have the least courage to say it to your face. and that’s not my problem.

at this point, i don’t even feel angry. i just find it embarrassing. because if our presence bothers them that much despite us staying quiet and keeping to ourselves, then maybe we’re taking up more space in their minds than they ever will in ours.

keep talking, keep assuming, keep making stories. while you’re busy watching us, we’re busy living.

it’s funny how life gets quieter the moment you stop surrounding yourself with people who thrive on drama, hidden resentment, and constant noise disguised as “friendship.” back then, everything felt heavy — too many opinions, too many issues, too many people watching every move like our lives were some kind of entertainment for their group chats and dummy twitter accounts.

now? silence. peace. finally.

and honestly, it drives people crazier when they realize you’re not reacting anymore. they keep talking, keep making stories, keep lurking, keep throwing indirects into the void while me and my partner are literally just existing, working on our lives, handling our own businesses, and sleeping peacefully at night. 😭

there’s something so freeing about realizing not every accusation deserves a defense, not every rumor deserves your energy, and not every “friendship” deserves access to your life forever.

the funniest part is they probably expected chaos, public breakdowns, long explanations, or revenge arcs. instead they got two people who genuinely stopped caring.

and maybe that’s what healing actually looks like sometimes — not closure, not reconciliation, not proving yourself to anyone.

just peace.

just distance.

this month really said “character development arc” and then threw me into every possible situation at once. lost a lot of people i used to call “friends” — though honestly, some of them were never real to begin with. ang daming issue, ang daming naging kaaway, ang daming unnecessary drama that kept trying to pull me backwards. but if i’m being real? i don’t regret cutting people off. not even a little.

sometimes losing people is the only way you finally see who was silently draining you the entire time. and maybe this year taught me that not everyone deserves access to me, my energy, my peace, or the life i’m trying so hard to build.

right now, my focus is simple. work. myself. my partner. my family — if there’s still something left to call family. i don’t have the energy anymore to entertain fake connections, forced friendships, or people who only remember me when they need something. i’m too busy trying to survive, grow, heal, and become someone i can actually be proud of.

twenty-five feels strange in the best and worst ways possible. like standing in the middle of a storm and realizing you survived every version of yourself that was supposed to destroy you. every fake friend. every backhanded compliment. every “concern” that was really just jealousy dressed up in soft words. every person who only loved me when i was easier to control.

and honestly? good riddance.

i spent too much time trying to keep peace with people who secretly enjoyed watching me struggle. people who only checked on me when they wanted gossip. people who smiled in my face then turned my name into entertainment the second i left the room. it was exhausting carrying relationships that felt heavier than heartbreak itself.

but turning 25 changed something in me.

i’m not chasing closure anymore. i’m not begging people to understand me. i’m not shrinking myself just to fit inside circles that never respected me in the first place. this year feels different. quieter. sharper. more intentional. like i finally realized not everyone deserves access to me just because they knew an older version of me.

it’s been a wild ride getting here. messy decisions, painful lessons, burned bridges, identity crises at 2am, crying over people who were never worth the tears, rebuilding myself over and over again. but somehow, through all of that, i still made it here.

still standing. still loving hard. still dreaming bigger.

and now? i’m locking in.

locking in on my future. my peace. my relationship. my family. my goals. my career. my happiness. i don’t have the energy anymore for fake loyalty and recycled negativity. if your presence feels draining, disrespectful, or performative, you can stay exactly where i left you.

25 isn’t about proving myself to anyone anymore. it’s about finally choosing myself without guilt.

maybe this makes me the villain in your story, and honestly? i’ve already accepted that.

i know what i did was wrong. i’m not running from it, and i’m not pretending i’m innocent just to make other people comfortable. accountability is one thing, but forcing myself to sit through everyone’s resentment, anger, and endless opinions about my life is another. and i’m done carrying that weight for people who were never really there for me in the first place.

the truth is, i don’t owe anyone a full explanation anymore. not every chapter deserves a public statement. not every wound deserves access to me. and not every person who got hurt automatically deserves a permanent seat in my life.

i have no interest in fixing things with people who only ever brought chaos, judgment, exhaustion, and negativity into my life. i genuinely do not have the time or energy for it anymore. i’m too busy trying to build something real for myself — a life that finally feels like mine, a future i actually want to wake up to, a peace i had to fight for alone.

at this point, the only people i truly care about are myself, my partner, my family, and the life we’re trying to create away from all the unnecessary noise. everyone else can keep talking if they want to. they can stay angry, bitter, disappointed, whatever helps them sleep at night. it changes absolutely nothing for me anymore.

there’s a certain kind of peace that comes after you stop being surprised by people.

because some people will come into your life acting like they understand you, like they’re safe, like they’re someone you can trust. they’ll listen, they’ll watch, they’ll collect pieces of you like they actually care — only to turn around and use your own words against you when it’s convenient.

they will come, snitch on you, betray you in the smallest but loudest ways, and then leave like they didn’t just prove everything you needed to know about them.

and honestly? that’s okay.

not everyone who enters your life deserves a permanent seat there. some people are just lessons with familiar faces. some people are warnings dressed as friends. some people are only meant to show you why your silence, your privacy, and your boundaries matter.

let them go. let them talk. let them run back to whoever they’re trying to impress.

let me get this straight.

you really thought you had the right to scare my partner? you really sat there, opened your mouth, and acted like you were some kind of authority figure in a situation where you are literally just another person hiding behind a screen? the confidence is impressive, i’ll give you that. embarrassing, but impressive.

you had the nerve to say, “wow, who are you?” like that was supposed to make someone shrink. but let’s be serious for one second — who are you too? what exactly are you standing on? what empire did you build? what throne are you sitting on? what legacy are you carrying that makes you think you can talk down on people like you’re above them?

because from where i’m standing, you’re just loud. loud doesn’t mean powerful. loud doesn’t mean respected. loud doesn’t mean right. sometimes loud is just loud because there’s nothing meaningful underneath it.

and don’t even start with the whole “my partner is a good person” performance. please. if your partner is really that holy, that pure, that painfully innocent, then go ahead and nail them to the cross already. build the altar. light the candles. start the choir. because the way you defend them like they’re incapable of doing wrong is honestly hilarious.

kindness doesn’t need a marketing team. innocence doesn’t need a bodyguard. and if someone has to be defended that aggressively every single time their name gets brought up, maybe the halo is not as shiny as you want everyone to believe.

what’s even funnier is that you people keep acting like we’re obsessed. obsessed where? obsessed how? because last time i checked, we’re not the ones still dragging names around like expired gossip. we’re not the ones acting brave in group chats. we’re not the ones pretending to be unbothered while clearly having my name living rent-free in your mouths.

you want us to stop speaking negatively about your partner? then maybe tell your side to stop giving people reasons to speak. simple. don’t act like victims after playing messy. don’t cry about damage after throwing stones. don’t demand silence from people you kept provoking.

and let me make this very clear: i do not care about you. i do not care about your partner. i do not care about your circle, your little alliances, your group chat speeches, your victim narratives, your fake moral superiority, or whatever dramatic little kingdom you think you’re protecting.

magsama-sama kayo. seriously. gather everyone. hold hands. make a banner. create a little support group for people who confuse arrogance with importance. none of it changes anything.

you’re not intimidating. you’re not scary. you’re not important enough to be feared. you’re just exhausting, and even that is giving you too much credit.

and the fact that you still mention my name after all this? that’s the funniest part. for someone who claims not to care, you sure do love keeping me in the conversation. maybe stop using my name like it’s the only thing giving your drama a pulse. maybe stop acting like my existence is your weekly topic. maybe stop pretending you’re above me when you can’t even shut up about me.

because trust me, no one here is losing sleep over you.

my partner doesn’t care anymore. i don’t care anymore. there’s nothing left for you to threaten, nothing left for you to prove, and nothing left for you to control. the only people still making noise are the same ones pretending they’ve moved on.

so here’s the final message, since apparently subtlety doesn’t work on people who mistake delusion for confidence:

leave us alone.

keep my name out of your mouth. keep my partner out of your little intimidation attempts. keep your saint complex, your fake outrage, and your performative innocence to yourselves. we are done giving oxygen to people who survive on attention and group chat validation.

and before you ask again, “who are you?”

i’m the person telling you directly that your little scare tactics didn’t work, your opinion doesn’t matter, your drama is tired, and your presence in our lives is no longer wanted.

so go ahead. talk. twist the story. cry to your people. act like the victim. do whatever helps you sleep at night.

just don’t expect us to care.

because honestly?

some people really have the audacity to cut my partner off, act like they want nothing to do with him anymore, and then still keep his name alive in their group chat like it’s a full-time job.

like, are you okay? genuinely. because if you already removed someone from your circle, why are you still bullying them behind closed doors? why are you still talking about him, laughing at him, and making him a topic in a place where he can’t even defend himself?

you wanted him out of your lives, right? then leave him alone. don’t cut someone off and then continue dragging them like you’re obsessed. that’s not “moving on,” that’s just being bitter, childish, and embarrassing.

and honestly, it says a lot more about all of you than it does about him. because normal people don’t keep bullying someone they claim they no longer care about.

so maybe ask yourselves this: do you actually hate him, or are you just mad that he’s no longer around for you to control, mock, or use as entertainment?

either way, grow up. leave my partner alone.

the funny thing is, some people really thought he would stay the same forever.

they thought he would keep choosing everyone else’s comfort over his own peace. they thought he would keep explaining himself, pleasing people, adjusting his life just so nobody felt offended by his decisions.

but luckily, he’s not that person anymore.

he learned. he grew. he finally realized that not everyone who calls themselves a friend actually deserves a seat in his relationship. not everyone’s opinion needs to be considered. not everyone’s “concern” is pure. sometimes it’s just judgment dressed up nicely so it looks less bitter.

and honestly? i’m proud of him for choosing us.

not because he had to prove anything to me, but because he finally stopped letting other people make him feel guilty for loving who he loves. he stopped bending just to keep people comfortable. he stopped treating everyone’s approval like a requirement.

so yes, maybe it feels weird to some people now.

maybe they’re not used to him having boundaries. maybe they’re not used to him choosing his relationship instead of entertaining every side comment, every doubt, every little “i’m just saying” disguised as concern.

but that’s not his problem anymore.

he chose to focus on what we have, not on pleasing people who were too comfortable talking about me like i wasn’t human. and if that bothers anyone, then maybe the problem was never our relationship.

it’s honestly such a strange feeling to find out that people have been discussing you in a space you were never invited into.

what gets me isn’t even the “warning” part. people are allowed to have their opinions, their doubts, their little speeches wrapped in concern. but there’s something deeply uncomfortable about seeing your name become the topic of a group conversation, especially when the people involved already have their own version of you in their heads.

and then they call it concern.

“i hope you know what you’re signing up for.”

funny how people say that like they’re saving someone, when really, they’re just reminding you that they’ve been talking about you long enough to feel entitled to judge your place in someone’s life.

i don’t need everyone to like me. i don’t need approval from people who only know pieces of a story, especially if those pieces were told by someone else. but it does say a lot when someone’s “friend” feels comfortable weighing in on a relationship like they’re part of it.

the weirdest part? watching people act like they’re being mature while still making side comments, still planting doubt, still pretending it’s all harmless.

maybe it is weird for you.

but imagine how weird it is for me to realize that while i’m trying to exist peacefully in my own relationship, there are people somewhere turning me into a discussion, a warning, a “be careful,” a what-if.

i’m tired of being spoken about like i’m a situation instead of a person.

i think one of the hardest lessons lately is realizing that betrayal does not always come from strangers.

sometimes it comes from the people you protected, the people you defended when no one else did, the people whose name you kept clean even when you had every reason not to. sometimes it comes from the closest cousin you had, the one you covered for through the years, only for her to turn around and betray you like it was nothing.

and what makes it worse is not just the betrayal itself. it is the fact that she had the audacity to talk badly about my partner too, spreading false things about him when she does not even know him personally. she does not know his heart, his story, his intentions, or the way he has been there for me. she only knows the version she created in her head, and somehow she still felt entitled to speak on him.

that kind of disrespect is something i will never tolerate.

because you can betray me, and i will take that lesson quietly. but the moment you drag someone i love into your lies, especially someone who did nothing to you, that is where the door closes permanently.

i do not regret cutting her off. not even a little.

some people do not deserve access to your life just because they are family. blood does not excuse betrayal. history does not erase disrespect. and protecting someone for years does not mean you owe them another chance to hurt you again.

so yes, i am choosing distance. peace. silence.