Blog by Jedde

I often make my mother cry.  When she attempts to inquire, investigate, and challenge, I respond with an equally fiery and booming voice. Later, when her tears gush, she would tell me I would regret it and that I too, would soon feel her pain when I become a mother myself.  This looming warning has prevented me from enjoying the idea of motherhood. I thought to myself, perhaps, I could not become a good mother because of this. I will never amount to anything other than a woman who has made her own mom cry. I would look inward and start blaming my intenseness. I would often question myself - am I too much? But I learned that you can never be too much for anyone who loves you dearly. And this will be a hard-earned wisdom I will pass on to my son -- that you can be difficult, and still be loved. That you can speak your truth, and still be loved. That you can pave your own path, and still be loved.  Because even though I make my mom cry a lot, we fight a lot, and she gives scary warnings l

"You are expected to be the strong one; the unbreakable. The always on the go, always successful,  always the one who knows where she's heading. But what they don't know about are your silent surrenders. When your mind shuts down because it's too full. Full of worries. Full of uncertainties. Full of insecurities and doubts. You break down and quietly give up. They don't know about it and you don't talk about it. And the day goes on and on and on. With your loud victories and your silent surrenders. Close your eyes. Count the stars. Get lost in a galaxy far away. Imagine its vastness, think of its depth. And when your tears fall,  let them disperse into tiny diamonds. When it's become too heavy to carry, and you're on the verge of whispering that you're tired, know that you  can make diamonds from the tears in your eyes. And your brilliance can rest when the moon appears tonight. Just let the night embrace you tight." Written by: Mary Jedde

  It's quite ironic how we crave other people's validation and yet we couldn't even give some for ourselves.  Imagine working so hard to make ends meet, being employed in a job that you only tolerate just so you can provide for your family, setting aside your own needs so that you can deliver what's expected of you - but then, at the end of a long, tiring day, what you've been dying to hear is a word of appreciation from your family and friends. It's that simple, yes? You don't require much to keep going. All you need is to hear that what you're sacrificing, what you're working hard for, is being appreciated by the people you're gifting it to.  But here lies the gap. A missing piece.  You seek the validation of others, forgetting that you must offer it to yourself first. You long to be seen, to be embraced, to be told that we're doing so well, and yet you scarcely even notice your own hard work. You hardly embrace yourself after a difficult d

It is very easy to say we had a perfect wedding just by looking at the beautiful photos. But when you look a little more closely into it, you will begin to notice that our wedding day is composed of many tiny stories of imperfections, effort, hard work, and sacrifices - making it all the more memorable. On the outside, I felt ecstatic. But somewhere within me laid a deal of sadness. I felt sad because many of our beloved relatives and cherished friends could not join us in the celebration. I only realized recently that I had been repressing this sadness to make room for focus while we were preparing for our big day. Whenever I receive a decline, I would be very quick to say "I understand" without processing how I felt and this backfired pretty quickly. A night prior to the wedding, I broke down because I got overwhelmed with a surge of emotions. I honestly exploded because I had been bottling up my emotions - those that I deemed unproductive, unhelpful, and distracting - like