First Strides

Two days before New Year's Eve, I received an auto-renewal notice for this domain, www.karla.ph. It's been five years since I bought it and set up this new space, but I haven't written as much as I had hoped. It's no longer a priority, and not even something that crosses my mind when I'm doing anything. Which, yeah, is kind of sad. I think that subconsciously, though, I keep paying for it, year after year, hoping that one day, things just... click again, and I stop overthinking about what, when, or how to share. To just write.

It got me thinking about what life would be like if I were still the same teenage girl who couldn't stop writing about everything. I used to jot down every little detail of my life, not caring at all who might end up reading it — or laughing at it.

There were so many things about this year that I didn't even post on socials, let alone write. For the last few years, I've contented myself with just sharing a photo or two on IG stories, then just moving along. (Although I did share about our wedding here, and it's one of my favorite things I've ever written about.)

Naturally, there are actual and practical reasons behind that. When I first started blogging at 15, I recall carefully planning out my weekly posts. Every single update, every important (and non-important) moment of the week, I'd write them down and happily expect friends to read them. Even my favorite "Song of the Week" was an important segment of each blog. (And I took great pains to pore through "cool" albums just so I could write about one song!)

Over time, I came to realize that my eagerness to share stemmed from a certain naivete. It was a mix of feeling invincible ("Nah, the world isn't a sketchy place! What could possibly go wrong about sharing personal information about myself?") and that desperate teenage need for validation ("I need to know that people care enough to like me!"). Now, I see things a little differently. Not everyone needs to know what I’m up to or what I plan to do in real-time. On top of that, I got married. Suddenly, it’s not just about me anymore. There’s someone else — a person I love deeply — whose feelings, boundaries, and privacy I need to consider before sharing my whereabouts, my priorities, my goals, and of course, my feelings.

But also, I think it's just that there's so much already out there: thoughts, opinions, brain farts, and "takes" coming from everyone on every corner of the Internet. Do I really need to add mine to the mix? Who does it benefit, even? I won’t lie, a part of me worries about someone stumbling upon an old post and twisting it heavily out of context. Just the same, though, I often wonder these days if putting too much of my thoughts out there will end up being for nothing — just noise in an already crowded space. Funnily enough, while it's not exactly applicable to me, I'm reminded of what Tina Fey so perfectly and aptly said in one of this year's best episodes of the Las Culturistas podcast: authenticity is dangerous and expensive. So much about the online landscape these days should give anyone pause before typing and hitting "click." The world does not often treat people who are open and honest with kindness. Perhaps the question really is how to find that balance between being transparent and genuine, while still keeping some things close to my chest.

Although, yeah, I miss this. I miss being able to write so openly and in the moment. I miss having to mull over my thoughts as I jot them down — and beyond 280 characters, at that. To post more consistently here has been one of my New Year's Resolutions since 2020. And, well, I partially succeeded in 2021-2022, thanks to my LL.M. year in the US. But so much has happened since then, and I wish I had captured those moments in writing as they unfolded.

The thing is, writing here is always one of the many New Year's Resolutions that I plan every year, and unfortunately, it's always the first to fall by the wayside. Last year, I made some solid progress on other goals: I started swimming again and even kept up a regular schedule for a good part of the year. I also traveled twice and made it a point to genuinely embrace spicy food during those trips. I got interested in watching more sports, I read more books than the previous year, and I got to do more lectures on IP (and even got awards/recognitions for it). So, in a way, I did tick off a lot of my resolutions. But, of course, I didn’t write about any of it. Ha! Still, I’d count it as a win — if we’re treating resolutions like a zero-sum game. The downside? Beyond the photos on my phone, there’s nothing that captured how I felt in all those big moments, as well as the small, meaningful events that happened. It would have been nice to re-read my thoughts and place myself in x-months-ago Karla's shoes.

So. What now for 2025? Well, the year is off to a good start — at least as far as my other resolutions are going. My New Year gift to myself is getting a walking pad, which is meant to replace the elliptical I received from a client last 2023. (I'm giving the elliptical to our priest friends, for their seminary). I’m aiming to hit a daily step goal — whether it’s walking or jogging. No pressure, but four days into the New Year, and I haven't missed. Last week, we tried playing Padel with Louie's high school friends. We had so much fun, we immediately signed up for padel lessons for the second week of January, and bought new shoes and rackets. (It's the closest I'll get to playing a sport that my favorite F1 driver enjoys, hehe. #CS55) I also treated myself to a new swimsuit, swim cap, and nose clip (Speedo girl forever). Aaaand, I already finished my first book of the year! (It's the freakin' The Odyssey. I revisited it thanks to the Twitter discourse over it a few weeks ago!)

I guess there's no other way to go about this one particular goal but to just keep trying: to write and to navigate that fine line between vulnerability and guarding myself. Sharing is, after all, in a way, self-preservation. It compels me to confront my thoughts and feelings, but also allows me to filter out and process parts of myself that only I've come to know.

Consider this post as my first few "baby steps" toward writing more, the mental and emotional equivalent of hitting 5K today. Here’s to more words, more effort, more steps, more books, more trips, and hopefully, more stories to tell along the way.

(In the meantime, sharing some photos from 2024 to make up for the posts I didn't get to write!)