“Your fate has been charted to you long before you were born, for which you cannot ask or beg for change.” Growing up my mother used to say this. I grew up inside those words. They were not oppressive—they were simply true, like gravity or sunrise. The map was drawn. My job was to walk it—maybe even drift through it. Until I encountered the world of self-development where a different chant filled my ears: “You write your own destiny.” Be the author. Take control. Nothing is predetermined.

Love doesn’t end with “I love you.” It continues with an and. “And because I love you, I am struggling to accept your choices that feel unfamiliar, uncertain, and frightening to me.”

There is another face of protection that is rarely seen — it wears the mask of betrayal. I remember the moment it unfolded: Senator Imee Marcos exposing her brother, the President, as a cocaine addict before a rally of thousands. My brother turned to me and said, “Nilaglag na ni Imee si BBM.”