#diaryngpig

Today will forever be etched in my heart — June 29, 2016, the day I stood at the airport, holding back the tears I wanted so badly to let fall. It was the day I had to say goodbye to the people I love most, the day I took a step into a new life, far away from home.

Everyone around me was emotional — my family trying to smile through their sadness, my friends offering hugs that felt like final goodbyes. But I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I told myself I had to be strong — for them, for me, for the dreams I was chasing. I needed to show courage, even if inside, my heart felt like it was breaking.

I was leaving behind everything familiar — the warmth of home, the comfort of my mother’s voice, the laughter that filled our small living room. And yet, I knew I was doing this for a purpose. I was about to work in a new country, Kuwait, stepping into an unfamiliar world with hope and determination.

Becoming a dental nurse abroad wasn’t just a job; it was a promise — a promise to give my family a better future, to grow, to learn, and to prove that sacrifices do lead to something beautiful.

As the plane took off, I looked out the window, whispering a quiet prayer. “Lord, guide me. Keep my family safe. Give me strength.” I didn’t know what awaited me on the other side of that journey, but I knew one thing for sure: this was the beginning of a new chapter, one written with courage, sacrifice, and love.

That day, I didn’t just leave home — I carried it with me, tucked inside my heart, wherever I would go.

I love my family — I really do. Every decision I’ve made, every sacrifice I took, it has always been for them. That’s why I chose to work abroad — not just to earn more, but to finally build the future I dreamed of for all of us. I remember working as a job order employee for two years without salary, holding on because I needed the hospital experience, because I believed that someday it would all be worth it.

When I finally started earning in Kuwait, I gave everything I could. I wanted them to have the things I never had — comfort, ease, peace of mind. I forgot myself in the process. I never got to travel, never experienced the world the way others do — I only worked, and worked, and worked.

Then I decided to resign and go home to the Philippines, thinking maybe I could finally rest, maybe things would be different. But it turned out to be my biggest mistake. Now, it feels like all the weight, all the expectations, all the responsibilities were handed to me alone.

I have three siblings. My eldest brother married early and has his own family — our parents never expected much from him. My twin sister… I spoiled her because I thought she would do the same for me if our roles were reversed. But she isn’t even trying to find something stable, something lasting. She just wants a job that gives her freedom — no pressure, no expectations. So, everything falls on me. Always me.

And now here I am — jobless, broke, and drained. I feel like I’ve reached the lowest point of my life. I gave everything I had, and yet I feel empty. It’s hard to admit, but right now, I don’t know how to move forward. I love my family… but I’m tired. I’m so, so tired.

🖤 Sometimes love means carrying too much — and forgetting who you are in the process.

I became a BTS ARMY back in 2016, during a time in my life that was full of challenges. I had just started working in Kuwait as a dental professional, and adjusting to a new country, a new job, and being away from home was not easy. Life felt overwhelming at times, but then my sister reminded me of something that always brought us joy—the Mnet Asian Music Awards, something we had looked forward to every December since we became K-pop fans together back in 2007.

That night, I watched BTS perform Blood Sweat & Tears, and I was completely mesmerized. At first, it was Jimin who caught my attention—there was something about his presence that just captivated me. But as I started watching more of their videos—BTS Gayo, BTS Run, and countless others—I found myself falling for Jungkook. He became my bias, yet my love for BTS grew to embrace the whole group.

From that moment, BTS became more than just a group I liked—they became a source of comfort, inspiration, and happiness in my life. I got completely immersed in their world, collecting all their merchandise, especially their BT21 line, and proudly buying my first K-pop lightstick—the Map of the Soul version—along with the TinyTAN collections. Each little thing reminded me of the joy, hope, and love that music can bring, especially when life feels hard.

BTS isn’t just a band to me—they are a reminder that no matter where life takes you, you can find light, family, and healing in the most unexpected places. Being an ARMY isn’t just about loving music—it’s about being part of a community that uplifts, inspires, and grows together.

Life has a way of taking us on unexpected journeys, teaching us lessons we never imagined we would need to learn. I made the difficult decision to resign from my job as a dental nurse in Kuwait and return home in March 2023 to be with my family—a choice made out of love, but one that came with uncertainty, fear, and a sense of leaving something behind. While waiting for my US visa application, I decided to chase a dream I held close to my heart and applied for the NCLEX scholarship program under Exl Services Philippines. From June 18, 2024, to November 8, 2024, I poured my heart, time, and energy into studying, and by God’s grace, I passed the NCLEX NGN exam.

After that milestone, I worked briefly as a virtual assistant in a non-voice account under the same company—the very role the scholarship was designed to prepare me for. But the work took a toll on my health, and I realized I had to step back, to prioritize my well-being, and to listen to my body—even if it meant walking away from stability. Now, I find myself at a crossroads, feeling lost, uncertain, and financially strained. My bank account, once full, now reminds me of how quickly life can change, and the future feels heavy with doubt.

Through all of this, I have not stopped praying. I am praying very hard for my US visa to be processed, for doors to open, and for the chance to start again, to rebuild, and to create a life full of purpose, peace, and hope. I know that even in moments of struggle, fear, and uncertainty, God has a plan for me. This may be a pause, a moment to heal, reflect, and gather strength—but it is not the end.

Life may have slowed me down, but it has not defeated me. With hope in my heart, prayers on my lips, and faith guiding my steps, I trust that brighter days are ahead. And when that day comes, I will rise stronger, wiser, and more grateful than ever before.

Life has a way of teaching us lessons in the most subtle — and sometimes painful — ways. One of the biggest regrets I carry is how often I gave too much of myself to others. I poured my time, energy, and love into people and situations, believing that selflessness was the purest form of kindness. But somewhere along the way, I forgot me.

I always thought that giving more meant being a better friend, sibling, partner, or coworker. I believed that the more I sacrificed, the more people would value me. And for a while, it seemed to work. People came to me for advice, for help, for comfort. I became a safe space for everyone — except for myself.

But there’s a hidden cost to this kind of giving. It’s not just the sleepless nights or the missed opportunities; it’s the erosion of your own sense of self. When you constantly put others first, you slowly silence your own needs, dreams, and boundaries. Before you realize it, you’re running on empty, wondering when someone will notice you’re tired.

Looking back, I regret not setting boundaries sooner. I regret not saying no when my heart whispered that I should. I regret not reserving enough of my energy for my own healing, growth, and happiness. The truth is, giving is beautiful — but giving to the point of losing yourself is not selfless; it’s self-abandonment.

Today, I’m learning to reclaim myself. I’m learning that it’s okay to say no. It’s okay to take time for me. It’s okay to give, but also to receive. Because I can’t pour from an empty cup, and I deserve the same love and care that I’ve so freely given to others.

To anyone reading this who feels like they’re losing themselves in the process of giving — please know this: you are worthy of your own kindness. Don’t wait until you’re exhausted and resentful to start taking care of yourself. Your needs matter. Your dreams matter. You matter.

Behind the Mask: A Dental Nurse’s Story in Kuwait ✨👩🏼‍⚕️😷

When I look back at those years, I still remember the quiet hum of the dental clinic in Kuwait — the sound of the suction, the whirring of the drill, the muffled voices behind layers of PPE. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet it’s etched in my memory as if it were yesterday.

Being a dental nurse during the pandemic wasn’t just about sterilizing instruments or assisting with procedures. It was about facing fear every single day — fear of infection, of isolation, of not knowing what tomorrow would bring. We were taught to protect smiles, but suddenly, even smiles were hidden behind masks.

I remember the first time I helped a patient after the lockdowns. The nervous eyes, the heavy silence, the way both of us wanted to speak comfort but couldn’t risk pulling down our masks. Everything felt different — the air, the pace, the way we looked at one another. It wasn’t just about oral care anymore; it was about human connection in its most cautious form.

Life in Kuwait during that time taught me so much. Working far from home, missing family, and watching the world change from inside a clinic made me realize the strength of small routines — washing hands, preparing tools, checking vitals, and offering reassurance with only my eyes. Those small acts became my rhythm, my comfort, my courage.

There were days I wanted to give up, days when exhaustion and fear felt heavier than my face shield. But I learned that resilience isn’t loud — it’s quiet, steady, and often unseen. It’s showing up even when you’re scared. It’s choosing compassion even when you’re running on empty.

Now, when I look back, I’m proud of that version of me — the one who showed up behind the mask, who smiled with her eyes, and who cared even when the world stood still.

From Zero to Dental Nurse: My Journey in Salmiya, Kuwait 🦷✨❤️ 🇰🇼

When I first came to Salmiya, Kuwait back in 2016, I never imagined this city would become my second home. I arrived with no experience in the medical or dental field — just curiosity, courage, and a desire to grow.

Working as a dental nurse has taught me so much more than just assisting in procedures. It’s about patience, empathy, teamwork, and learning to stay calm when things get hectic. Every day is a mix of challenges and little victories — from comforting nervous patients to seeing their confident smiles after treatment.

Sometimes, I still can’t believe how far I’ve come — from being completely new to the field to finding purpose and pride in what I do. Grateful for all the lessons, the people I’ve met, and the home I’ve built here in Salmiya. ❤️

Here’s to everyone who took a leap of faith into something unfamiliar — keep going, you might just find your calling where you least expect it. 🌍💪

The effect of lack of sleep 😂 first time to try #Tiktok.

I’m not confident when it comes to my visuals.But now., I learned to embraced my flaws and all.

I’m an OFW. Its difficult to be away from your family - your support system ❣️but sometimes you need to take the risk for a better future ❣️❤️

Then in 2016 while i was browsing my youtube app i saw this video of BTS Blood, Sweat and Tears. From then on i’m already hookep up.

BTS inspired me to be a better version of me.

Love Myself. Love Yourself.