Hard pill to swallow!

I was struck by the quiet wisdom in the words, "I choose not only friends, I choose the people I surround myself with… Hindi ko gusto ang toxic.” Bea Alonzon said in her interview. Maybe because, for so long, I was the opposite—I trusted easily, opened my heart quickly, and believed everyone meant well. After being bullied and taken advantage of more times than I want to admit, I finally understood that peace is fragile, and not everyone deserves access to the parts of me I worked so hard to heal. I used to think kindness was enough—that if I showed sincerity, people would match it. But life taught me a harder truth: not all kindness is genuine, not all praise is honest, and not every smile is safe. That’s why I’ve learned to keep some things to myself. My plans, my dreams, even my small achievements—I don’t share them as freely anymore. I’ve seen how jealousy can live in people I cared for, how some will smile in front of me but quietly hope I don’t rise. I’ve learned the painful way that not everyone is happy to see you grow. Some will celebrate your setbacks m

ore than your victories. God has a gentle way of revealing these things. Sometimes it’s a tiny discomfort, a shift in tone, a heaviness in the air—subtle signs telling me who is meant to walk with me and who is better kept at a distance. The people worth keeping close aren’t the loudest, the most charming, or the ones who flatter. They are the ones who are real, the ones who can celebrate my growth without envy, who don’t just protect my name but also help guard my peace. Choosing them wisely feels like I’m finally choosing myself, too. And maybe that’s where my desire to make a difference truly begins—by honoring my own heart first.