The truth is difficult to admit. Two months was the flick of a switch, a light bulb’s last flash. It’s going that quickly.
The truth is that I am not home and I miss my partner with whom I share my life, love, and body.
The truth is that I didn’t write as much as I had planned and instead chose to be present in each moment. Every possible open moment, I jumped in.
The truth is that the Philippines is a complex country with truly heartbreaking problems and deep joy.
I am failing at documenting my experience here. I am afraid I will forget the details.
But the evidence is inscribed in a place far deeper than my skin, or even marrow. A changed womyn looks back at me in the mirror these days. How she’s smiling more, I don’t know. Why she’s laughing, I can’t understand.
Is it the children sleeping on sidewalks who stare into my brown eyes?
Is it the community of womyn I live with who have loved me like family? It could be the simplistic lifestyle I have adopted that has afforded such clarity, passion, and purpose.
Who is this womyn?
The truth is, I’ve always wanted to be who I am right at this very moment.