On July 10, I left the ever-chaotic, traffic-stricken Manila for a two-week trip to Malaysia and Vietnam.
Days before the flight, Philippine Airlines (PAL) sent me on a scheduling rollercoaster as they moved my scheduled flight from 7:20 a.m. to 9:15 a.m. And then adjusting it again the night before, and once more on the day of departure. A few minutes before our estimated time of departure, the PAL crew started distributing their “apology for the delay” complimentary snacks.
The problem is, I had already booked a connecting flight from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi at 4 p.m., and looking at the time, I sure was still gonna make it. Tight, but still doable. We landed in Kuala Lumpur at 2:30 p.m., and as I looked around at people queuing out of the plane, reality hit me—I’m going to miss it. It also didn’t help that the Malaysian immigration was processing things manually—took me ages to get out of Terminal 1 and run to, in hopes of catching the connecting flight, Terminal 2.
Despite the expensive setback, I surprisingly wasn’t stressed or upset. If anything, I felt bad for my money down the drain. But that was it.
I spent a week in Langkawi, an island northwest coast of Peninsular Malaysia. My travel best friend (I’m using the term loosely), while having curry for breakfast, asked if it’s anything like the Philippine beaches. Well, the pristine waters and scenic views are comparable, but the remoteness and stillness of Langkawi take away the cake.
On my second day on the island, my newfound friends and I spent eight hours playing, laying in the sun, and listening to techno music on the beach. It was a day well spent, I would say—I felt in touch with nature, just soaking in anything and everything my eyes could lay sight on.
The next week, I boarded my flight to Hanoi, Vietnam. I didn’t have a set expectation but what I witnessed shocked me to the core. Motorcycles, resembling armies of ants, rode on nonexistent lanes, while car drivers ruthlessly honked at them, passing them as if they were inconsequential. Needless to say, I was on the edge of my seat, clutching the handle, reminiscent of how my mom reacts when dad drives like he’s in “Fast and the Furious.”
But it was a totally different story when I got to Ha Giang—the highlight of the trip. Ha Giang is in the north of Vietnam, a province known for their mesmerizing views and intestine-like roads. If you’re planning on going, better to book the motorcycle tour with an easy rider rather than touring on a shuttle.
I’m not spoiling the Ha Giang trip for you, but the experience and the people I’ve met and bonded with are definitely in my books.
Like any other feat, a few more expensive mistakes were made along the way, but nothing that left me in utter despair. Although I wish I could divulge the details, I’d rather not, because this time, there was no one to blame but me. Almost a month has elapsed, and I still marvel at myself for handling those stressful situations like a pro. I say “stressful” because I know my family would go loco if it ever happened to them.
I grew up in an environment where the little things are constantly critiqued. Like how your hair flows or the way you carry yourself. And as I’ve grown, I acquired the same trait without me knowing it. It’s just the way of life—you-live-and-you-learn kind of thing. And with being critical comes persistent stress. Every single thing will get to you and before you know it, your blood pressure’s through the roof, holding hands with stress.
One time as I was doom scrolling, I saw this meme where a man goes “eeet eees what eeet eees,” a dragged out “it is what it is.”
This meme-ish quote made a mark on me and I started living by it! I have no control over what’s going to happen next. Even if I plan ahead, things will still hit the fan because a lot of events are beyond my control. Accidents happen like losing your ring in the ocean as you go for a skinny dip at 5 a.m., missing four more flights because you slept through the alarm … these are all completely hypothetical by the way. It is what it is.
If your flight gets delayed, don’t fret. Book another flight and let the airline handle it.
If the root cause of stress is your environment, then learn to tune out of it. Even better, consider removing yourself from it. A friend might cancel me for promoting this saying, but it has honestly helped me shift my perspective and accept things as they unfold. I’ve come a long way, unlearning the toxic trait of reacting strongly rather than responding thoughtfully. The more you embrace this phrase of memetic origin, the more you’ll learn to live an unbothered life.
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Marjill V. San Diego, 28, is a copywriter navigating the fine line between crafting compelling content and facing impostor syndrome.