I used to believe we could change the world with a placard, a pink ribbon, and a well-rehearsed slogan in Comic Sans.
I still believe in good governance — I’m just no longer convinced it arrives right after every protest or trending topic. I joined rallies, voted, raged, and hoped — all in the name of accountability. I’ve joined calls for change, unseated the corrupt, and spent hours explaining my vote to people who think TikTok is a think tank.
Somewhere between the fiery slogans and the Senate hearings, it started to feel less like progress and more like performance. We elect as we please, protest as we please, and impeach as we please — only to find ourselves stuck on a merry-go-round, dizzy but determined.
I was in high school when I first heard I might not make it to graduation.
“Mae, ipapa-uli na ka sa Lagonglong. Instruction sa imong Papa. Mag-gyera na. Di na ka maka-graduate,” said Lito, as casually as if war were just another school suspension.
That was during the country’s first bloodless revolution of my lifetime — the one with plain T-shirts, homemade banners, and the belief that ousting one man could save a nation. The dictator fled. We cheered. And then the recycling began: the same political dynasties, the same sugar-coated promises, the same public betrayals.
I’ve lived through coup attempts, impeachments, and moral crusades that aged like milk. I was working for a crony-linked financial firm when the actor-president was ousted. It didn’t cleanse the system — it fattened real estate portfolios, launched political careers, and got the impeached re-elected. Because here, nothing sells faster than controversy or lasts longer than political amnesia.
I wore pink in the last election. I still do, quietly. It symbolized integrity, order, and decency. But when the results came in, I did what grown-ups do: I moved forward. Because life demands it. We have day jobs to show up for, grown-up lives to manage, and communities to serve — regardless of who wins.
Come election time, I will always have a side. But once it’s over, it’s over. We live with the outcome and hold those in power accountable — whether we voted for them or not.
That’s the maturity politics demands. Applaud when they get it right. Call out when they get it wrong. Accountability doesn’t require loyalty — it requires discernment.
The problem begins when we become part of a political fandom or cult. That includes blind allegiance to the losing side. If you only criticize and never commend, you’re not exercising maturity — you’re rehearsing a comeback. That’s not vigilance. That’s campaigning.
My son once asked, “Why do you have to get elected if you want to help?”
Fair point. He added, “Lola never ran for office, but she built a social enterprise in our hometown to create jobs and empower women.” That’s public service — no billboards or budget hearings required.
If you lose and spend your days dismantling the government under the guise of criticism — refusing to cooperate even on matters of public good — you’re not resisting corruption. You’re rehearsing for the next election cycle.
I’m not jaded. I’m just caffeinated and done with theatrics. We need fewer political idols and more functioning institutions. Less outrage, more outcomes. Less noise, more discernment.
So once the election is over, I don’t wear political colors. Just black and white — right is right, and wrong is wrong.
And if we must ride this merry-go-round again, let’s at least grow up while we’re on it.
o0o
Still brewing thoughts — no sugarcoating, just stories steeped in truth.
