‘Malayo pa, pero malayo na’
It’s been over two years since I left my office job to pursue freelancing as a content writer—a leap of faith that marked a pivotal turning point in my career and life.
Straight out of college at the height of a global pandemic, I landed my first job in BPO.
My one-and-a-half-year stint as a call center agent was nothing short of exhausting, though I feel the need to emphasize that other agents assigned to accounts routinely handling high call volumes and low customer satisfaction rates—a catastrophic combination—have it even worse. Nonetheless, I still found the job just as mentally and emotionally draining. I always dreaded having to start my shift delivering my how-can-I-help-you spiel, faking an exuberant tone in a trying-hard American accent, and praying it’s not an already-frustrated caller who would berate me, summon my supervisor, and leave a DSAT rating shared in an Outlook email for all my colleagues to see.
You’d think that after nearly two years of working nocturnally, I’d have mastered the art of sleeping soundly in broad daylight. But no amount of blackout curtains, earplugs, sleep masks, or even the electric fan blasting at maximum speed to fight the day’s heat could trick my noisy brain into thinking it was time to rest. Add to that the two to three precious hours I spent (or lost) every day commuting, and it became clear: I signed up for this of my own volition, yes, but it’s high time I prioritize my well-being.
On top of all these, I lost two of the most important men in my life—my father to stroke in September 2021, and my grandfather to COVID and hematoma in May 2022.
A month after grandpa’s death, I decided to finally call it quits, took some time to rest, and looked for work-from-home opportunities to start over.
Because the in-demand writing jobs I applied to weren’t exactly related to my experience, I had to first build a convincing portfolio, apply to relevant online courses, attend webinars, and simply exude all the confidence my introverted self could muster. When a US-based client hired me for a web content project, I thought I had finally found my footing as a freelance writer.
That contract lasted just two weeks.
I was back to square one—unemployed and desperate for new work. While the five-star rating from my first freelance employer was a consolation, it did little to ease my anxiety. I didn’t have a fallback.
Over a hundred job applications and proposals later, I found myself accepting writing gigs that paid as measly as $4 for thousand-word articles. I am one to advocate for fair wages and workers’ rights, but I had to set my progressive worldviews aside for survival’s sake. I have a family to support. There was no other choice but to soldier on. I can’t go back to an office job I hated waking up for.
After two months of enduring uncertainty and scanty wages, I connected with a local client in a job-seeker group on Facebook, who ended up giving me steady work for a full year. Slowly, I built a foundation. This time, I was rejecting job offers rather than begging for them.
Forward to now: I’m still working in the comfort of our humble abode, and it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made. Sure, working from home has its fair share of challenges. But what I realized was this among other things: I’d rather wash a pyramid of dirty dishes right after clocking out of work than suffer the traffic-ridden commutes to the office again.
I’m nowhere near claiming I now earn a six-digit figure, lounging in a fully air-conditioned room, or driving my family in a Toyota Highlander. But I’m just as proud of having come this far in life as a 25-year-old son, grandson, husband, and father.
There’s a beautiful Filipino phrase that went viral this year and it perfectly encapsulates this feeling: “Malayo pa, pero malayo na”—loosely translated, “Still a long way to go, but [we] have come a long way.”
Malayo pa carries with it a certain impatience; but then comes the realization of … pero malayo na, reminding us that in the face of life’s vicissitudes, we have managed to move past them with our perseverance. And though we haven’t arrived at our intended destination just yet, wherever that may be, we owe it to ourselves to, at the very least, acknowledge and honor the sacrifices we’ve made to be here.
I join countless other Filipinos who wax nostalgic, in grateful reflection, over the days when life consisted of making do with instant noodles and canned sardines for lunches and dinners. Today, we have assumed the challenging yet rewarding role of a provider—paying the bills, indulging the family with the occasional Jollibee and Mang Inasal dine-ins, healing our inner child with monthly Shopee and Lazada orders, and simply living the leisurely rhythm of everyday life in the company of those we carry on for.
I still have other bigger dreams for myself and my family that I’m looking forward to fulfilling. But for now, let me take pride in my progress. Malayo pa, pero kahit papaano, malayo na.
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Jejomar Contawe, 25, works as a copywriter. He lives with his family in Tarlac province.
