This is 47
Turning 47.
For many women, this age isn’t about dreading the next wrinkle or lamenting lost youth. Instead, it’s a remarkable pivot, a powerful moment of realizing the profound shifts that have occurred within. It’s an embrace of the present, a quiet confidence built on years of lived experience, and a clarity that was once a distant whisper.
Gone are the days of constant self-doubt or seeking external validation that often characterized my younger years. At 47, I feel a robust self-assurance, a deep understanding of my inherent strengths, and, perhaps most liberating of all, the ability to set and maintain boundaries. These aren’t walls, but rather thoughtful demarcations that protect my energy, time, and peace of mind—a wisdom hard-won and deeply cherished.
This certainty allows for a more authentic engagement with the world, where my contributions are deliberate and my relationships are richer. Oh, and who’s got time for long hair when you’re older? Not me! I even squeezed in a fantastic short haircut by celebrity hairstylist and colorist Ramon Fuentes—because efficiency, darling, is key.
My actual 47th birthday unfolded against a backdrop that perfectly encapsulated this evolving perspective: I spent the day covering the “No Kings Rally” in Historic Filipinotown. Walking among hundreds of passionate Filipino and American community members, I felt the raw urgency, the simmering anger, and the determined call to action against perceived threats to democracy and civil liberties.
There was a palpable emphasis on the impact on immigrant communities and the unwavering spirit of peaceful protest. What I truly walked away from was an overwhelming sense of resilience—the enduring strength of a community actively shaping its future, standing up for dignity and safety, and drawing on a rich history of resistance.
Not a war zone
It’s a stark contrast to what many friends from the Philippines have been asking me: “Is Los Angeles a war zone?” I want to clarify, with every fiber of my being: No, it is not. LA is a vibrant, loving, and hospitable city. The narratives of chaos and violence often amplified on social media are, simply put, misinformation. What I witnessed was an organized, peaceful assembly, a community exercising its rights, far removed from any “war zone” imagery.
As evening approached, the energy shifted, but the sense of connection remained. I found myself picking up my producer from my “Gimik” days, Judith Bauer, to head to the Bini concert. Rather than actually watching the show, I spent the time catching up with my director from yesteryears, Laurenti Dyogi, from my ABS-CBN days. These reunions are precious, threads of shared history weaving through our present lives. We talked, laughed, and simply were together, reminding me of the enduring bonds that sustain us.
Lunch the next day with my family was quiet and simple. I got a Labubu cake homemade by my eldest. And no, despite owning three Labubus (all gifts from my thoughtful kid), I am not into the craze. But the gesture, the creativity, and the love poured into that cake meant the world. I also spent some quality time in my blow-up pool in the backyard—a $30 score from Costco! Unfortunately, that decision came with an unexpected consequence: I totally killed the grass underneath. Big mistake.
These moments, from the collective power of protest to the quiet connection with old friends, and the simple sweetness of family, underscore a profound realization: living thankfully is a conscious practice. It’s easier, of course, when I’m feeling good, when I’ve gotten enough sleep, when I’ve had the time to lose myself in a yoga session, or find freedom in dance.
Those moments of self-care aren’t luxuries; they are fundamental building blocks that allow me to appreciate the complex, beautiful tapestry of life at 47. It’s an age of knowing, of doing, and of deeply appreciating the journey.
