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Discuss dating, relationships and foreign women.
So what traits would make someone a good person - donates to charity, doesn't steal, goes to church, is kind to everyone, obeys parents, etc.? What do you mean by good person here? 'Good person' is a somewhat subjective concept.
I know she has been nice and kind to me. She's been very generous, reliable, and consistent. She is also good to her parents, family, and friends. And she has values pretty much in-line with my own. But she doesn't give money to beggars though if that's what you mean.
Also, Phils. is full of nice good people. Many there are very sweet, simple, and down to earth. There are also plenty of lazy asses trying to get a free ride or even scam easy targets. But it doesn't seem difficult to find people who would probably be considered very nice from American POV. OTOH, the trait mix I threw up above, especially in its entirety, is quite special there. Even just finding someone who is attractive, not short, and intellectual is a challenge there.
Nope, I don't think so. Believe it or not, some Pinays are actually a challenge. There are plenty of middle class gals in Metro Manila who are in no hurry to get married. Some prefer to defer it to late 20s or even 30s if at all. But thanks for you good wishes.
Thanks Jester. Hope you are not pissed about our disagreements on the merits of living 100-200 years ago as opposed to today. Let's just agree to disagree lol.
Yes, she is 19 chronologically but seems to have the maturity level of someone closer to 30 or maybe even 40. Heck, she might even be more grown-up than her mom in some ways. Very exceptional.
Last edited by Rock on August 12th, 2013, 10:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
Well thanks for that advice lol. But seriously, I am most attracted by this girls non-physical qualities.
FC. She knows about ladies forum. Thanks.
Yeah her mind looks better and less vane than her body. It doesn't hurt she's a little curvy like she is. lol Maturity trumps over physical by a tad by a remnant but that's it. lol
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I just met up with her in person, here in Manila. She's definitely a "Rock-type" lady, in terms of both looks and personality.
But she's quite different from Dianne. Not Winston's or my type, but makes a really great friend nonetheless.
I just did a podcast interview with Rock's awesome Filipina friend (the one mentioned in this thread) to get a female perspective on things. It came out great. We talked about dating in the Philippines and living there. Here is the link. Enjoy.
http://www.happierabroad.com/podcasts/A ... erview.mp3
Here is a photo of her so you can see who I'm talking to. She said I could post her picture.
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"It takes far less effort to find and move to the society that has what you want than it does to try to reconstruct an existing society to match your standards." - Harry Browne, How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World
This story has a very tragic ending…
By now, people close to her have had time to adjust and hopefully reach some sort of acceptance.
In this first month of new year 2017, I feel it’s time to finally share here.
Ava Paige (screen name here) known in real life as Dennese, passed away February 7, 2015, less than one month after her 21st birthday and just two months after graduating from Polytechnic University of the Philippines.
She was an exceptional girl who as uni student achieved top grades while holding a professional high paying job with included accommodation in Ortigas. She maintained detailed English diaries as a writer of sorts and had a amazing colloquial command of the language. She was talented at guitar and singing from an early age, and stood out as a stage performer in her university. She was a deep non-materialistic person with an old soul who posted upbeat and endearing videos starting from her mid-teen years. She seemed so happy, pure, and kind. Her Facebook page is full of contributions which span back through 2009.
She was also an independent thinker who did not buy into the local style Catholic dogma but rather examined things on her own at a deeper level. But she retained Filipino style patience and respect for all. I never once saw her lose temper in public nor raise voice to anyone. She was down to earth, easygoing, loved to laugh and engage in English banter, was devoted to her family in spite of some tensions, and treated everyone with kindness. For those of you who believe urban middle class Luzon girls are all spoiled and entitled, she broke that stereotype. Dennese was a very soft and affectionate person to all.
But she struggled at times with internal suffering. Some would attribute it to brain chemistry imbalances while others might believe she was under attack from external forces. During those brief but sudden periods, she longed for an escape. She had a desire for love, affection, reassurances, or maybe even direction from those around her. But people in the modern world are sometimes too focused on school, work, and other practical matters be detect when someone around is really in trouble.
In her own ways she reached out. I sought professional help for her when I realized there was a pattern to her bouts of depression. The doctor diagnosis was severe bipolar disorder. Meds were prescribed and things seemed to improve. But in time she rejected those.
She penned a ‘practice letter’ which she sent to certain people. I’m pasting it below to tell her story with her own words. Names mentioned have been replaced by symbols in order to avoid revealing identities.
September 5, 2014
Life is hard. Death is easy.
I have been battling with bipolar disorder for some time now. Yes, I was diagnosed. I was prescribed some medication, which I regularly took at first. But then medications have their side effects. I gained a lot of weight and most of all I lost my energy, which is not very good for my job and school. So after finishing that one set of medication, I refused to buy another set again. I tried to convince myself that I was normal and that there was nothing wrong with me. In fact, I was never sad and happy for a reason. There would always be these “triggers” that totally made me lose control. My plan at that time was to avoid them so I could live normally.
I needed help. I needed someone, but I didn’t know how. It’s just that I feel like someone needs to care enough to ask. Nobody does, and it scares me. I was scared of myself. Those were the times when I just wanted to pull my hair off and hit my head on the wall. There were times when I was uncontrollably angry, really really really really angry. During those times, I need someone to hold me down, to tell me everything’s going to be okay, or maybe to even slap me, just to bring me back to my senses. Nobody was there. I was all alone. I wanted to reach out, but I’m sorry, I didn’t know how. Or how to do it right, at least. I tried to, but the responses I get were from oblivion to annoyance. They don’t understand. It’s not as if I can control it. I can’t. I swear I tried but I can’t. The only thing I can really control is my urge to jump out of the balcony and end it all. It scares me, because I know that the moment I push myself free, there’s no turning back. There’ll be no more tomorrow for me, no memories, nothing. It will be over. I think what chills me the most is the finality of that decision. It’s, like, the most final decision I’ll ever make.
Then the fear turns into sadness. I didn’t want to be turned into nothing: my memories, my hopes, my dreams, my future and most of all, the people I love and have ever loved. There must be something out there, after death, but I didn’t want to think about that because it scares me more. Would I be met with understanding, or would I be judged and thrown into another pain that I fought so hard to face, and then eventually escape from.
Even now as I’m typing this, I am very very afraid. I haven’t even made up my mind, yet I’m writing this. While I do so I was hoping that J would call or send me a message telling me that he loves me and never ever wants to lose me and that he can accept me despite my messed up mind. Or that maybe, D, who is with me in the room right now, would get out of bed and hug me, and just force me to go out with her, to go somewhere beautiful. Or that maybe my mom would come over here and take me away with her and get everything back, just like when I was just a child and a popular student with nothing else to think about but my homework and the script I needed to memorize for the play and my ex and all the people I hate who were jealous of me because, as someone told me when I was 16, I had everything: beauty, brains, talent and a good heart. Everything was okay then. I hated to die then. If I could stay in that moment when I was 14 up to when I was 16, I would. But I can’t.
So now I’m stuck in this room with D, who now hates me for my uncontrollable meltdown last night. I feel really bad about it, but it really wasn’t something I could control. She won’t speak to me. I wish someone would just speak to me right now. I am desperate. I needed a reason to hold on, something, anything… just anything.
So J just sent me a message and he is calling me now. That was what I wanted a while ago, but I’m scared to pick it up, I don’t know the right thing to say. I know that when I pick it up, he’d be shouting at me, mad because of my madness. I know, Love, I told you I’m crazy. And I’m sorry because I don’t know what to do about it.
I can’t be alone. I can’t make it alone. I need someone to tell me what to do, to tell me what’s going on. I thought I could be independent but I realized I can’t. I need someone, I always do, and that’s something out of my control. It scares me how much I can’t control. I wanted to be alone, but I can’t make it alone. I can’t do anything alone, and I can’t save myself. But nobody understands that. So I have no choice but to try to make it alone, to be my best company. But I can’t. I needed to be with someone whose mind doesn’t revolve around suicide all day, who doesn’t intend to kill me the moment they lose control. And I am the last option for that.
I feel desperate and scared. Really really desperate and scared. My mind is all messed up, planning different ways of killing myself with as little pain as possible. I hate pain. But it brings me to my senses sometimes. I have very low tolerance for pain. I have my worst memories associated with pain. So many nightmares, so many secrets.
Mama and Papa, I’m sorry. I wasn’t the best daughter. I wasn’t what you expected. My future was not the future that you both worked so hard for me to have. But believe me, I really tried. I tried to make you both proud of me. I tried to be independent so I could go back home and say, “I’m your daughter, that snobbish little girl who you fed and clothed and bathed and raised in the best way you thought was. Unbelievable, isn’t it?” And then you’d both be proud of me, because I made it on my own. But I’m sorry. I hope that at least one of my siblings would make you proud someday. You were not the perfect parents, but I know that you both deserve it for your hard work. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong and smart enough. Heck, if I met my 7-year-old self, I bet she wouldn’t be proud of me too. She would probably change in an instant and do everything she can, just so she won’t grow up to be like this. She would have studied more, loved less, cared less and worked harder. I’m sorry. After all the things that happened, I still love and miss you both. Eternally.
To 1, 2, 3, 4. I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good sister. Believe me, I loved you all especially when I was carrying you in my arms when you were babies. You were all so cute. I remember 3, sometimes when Mama made me cry, I would carry 3 as an infant and cry to him, and whisper to him what Mama did, and it would feel better. You were all very cute and it fascinated me when you’re mumbling something when you sleep. When I’m sad I would just kiss your little hands and feet and I would feel better. But you all grew up too fast, and physical contact is very awkward now. Especially with 1, he’s bigger than me now. And he didn’t want me to hug him, which is understandable. 4 and 2 were my favorites. I hope you both grow well, it would make me the happiest. I’m sorry I never set a good example to all of you. The eldest was supposed to lead, to build a pathway for you to follow, to set the standards for the other children in the family. I failed to do that. I never thought of being the eldest. I only did what I want. I was never responsible enough. I hope you forgive me for not showing enough love and support, and for not setting up standards and expectations on how you should be in the future. Nevertheless, I love you all dearly. Those days Mama and Papa brought you home were the most exciting and warmest days of my life.
To my youngest sister. I haven’t even seen you yet, but I’m sure you’ll be the prettiest girl in the family. When I found out that Mama was pregnant with you I admit I pitied you. This is a really difficult world. But I hope you also see the best things in it. There will be times when you would wish you weren’t born, just like how I always feel. It’s really really tough out there. But I believe that this time you’ll make it right. If I could live in you I would, to start over again, to make it perfect this time. I hope you do so. I’m sorry that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you like I did our brothers and sisters, but I do hope you’ll get enough love and affection from them. Live a good life, be healthy, study hard, don’t eat too much and don’t love a man too much. Don’t let anyone and anything break you. I pray that you’ll be as strong as I never was. Be happy, and always stand out.
BR, I love you so much you know that. You’re, like, my brother from different parents. I hope you forgive me for everything. Believe me, there’s nothing you could have done to change anything. I wish I could have been as strong as you, with your no-f***s-given attitude. I so much wanted to be like that. I don’t think there’s anything more left to say to you that I haven’t said. Just take care of yourself and good luck with your career. You know you’re the bitch, right? Nothing can ever take you down. Do whatever makes you happy, and live a good life. I love you so much.
To all of my friends and those who have known me, thank you so much. I would never have called myself a loser, ever. All because of you. To those who I have hurt, and those who I have disturbed during the times I couldn’t control myself, I would like to apologize. I wish I could have changed that. I wish I could have made people happy instead of being annoying and crazy. But you all sure left a mark on me. My memories are worth nothing without you all.
J, my love. I’d just say thank you, because I know you would never accept my “I’m sorry”. But yes, I’m really sorry. You told me before that you would never forgive me if I harmed myself, but I don’t think it really matters anymore. What matters to me now are our good memories together. Thank you for loving me even though I was difficult. Believe me, I tried to be the best girlfriend for you. I tried to be the prettiest and I tried my best to please you in every way possible. I just wish I was different, more normal, then it would have been perfect. We could have been happy and we could have ended up together. I wish there was some way I could give back to you for making me feel special and for trying to make me strong. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or if I would be hurting you. I didn’t mean it. I hope you could find a way to understand and forgive me too. There’s nothing you or I could have done. Live a good life, and have fun with your adventures. And I hope you think of me sometimes with fondness. I love you more than anything.
Even now I haven’t decided yet. Or what I’d do to all the things I have just written here. Will I let others read it? I don’t know. My strong emotions have calmed down, but I’m still scared. I’m sure that it will come back again. My madness is permanent. There is nothing I can do for myself but to end it. It has been hard for me already. I never wanted to go any further. My relationships with people suffered; I have affected others and most of all I’m in pain. I’m really sorry. If I had the choice to make everything normal, if I could choose not to be this way, I would give the world for it. I just want to be okay, or nothing at all.
I know that most people would not agree with this, and I won’t expect understanding. I would just like to let you know how I feel, how hard the struggle to hide and fight it had been. And I think I finally realize that it’s not worth it anymore. I don’t live for anybody, and nobody lives for me. I can’t do it by and for myself any longer. I’m sorry. Please pray for me…
Sad story! I have to say I have a similar story regarding a Filipina girl I dated who ultimately had problems with her family and had psychological issues that affected our relationships. Anyway, I hope Ava is in a better place with God now.