I've been writing year-end posts in my blog since 2017. I've always discussed about lessons I learned and accomplishments I achieved. For this 2020 though, I want to tackle on exploring my purpose amid the pandemic since 2020 has been a difficult year for everyone.
I started this 2020 with so much hope and aspirations more than I had the years before. I told myself, this will be the year I will finally study. This will be the year I will move on professionally. This will be the year I will do big milestones like travelling alone or moving out of my house.
The thing with this virus, it became this microscopic push behind evaluating the gargantuan goals I set myself. I will say that the quarantine ruined everything--or I can look at it as the virus delayed plans so I can assess myself before pushing through with them.
One of the biggest issues for me is my role as a journalist during the quarantine. Some people I know are like, "Oh, she's a journalist! Frontliner!" and then others are like "She doesn't do much! Never even left the house!"
I guess it hurt to hear comments that I may be like this but don't do the extra mile like my colleagues do. Or to get belittled because writing news from virtual briefings is "easy" because it's just there already to view from the comforts of home.
The doubts on the relevance of what I do emphasized more when I felt helpless watching every struggle others were experiencing on the screen instead of being actually there to help. But if I were physically present, would I have done something to help?
Another question I asked myself is if journalism was for me. It was not a question I ever asked because I know this is what I want to do but when a superior once told me that I was not meant to be one--that I was the worst writer he knew--and that I should consider resigning, of course it made me think.
There were many times my own morals and beliefs were tested and sticking to them was always the best decision for me and even the job I have. However, I sometimes felt punished for it, for proving others wrong and for making others look bad, when my only sole purpose is everything I write out there is factual and with integrity.
Mistakes I made became magnified this year. Because there's this thought, you're at home and everything is just there for you to watch so how can you fuck up? I will do my job consistently well but the few times I slipped over things I cannot even control, I felt like the worst failure and that I was unworthy of being a journalist.
I recently accepted my second journ award but also within that week I did, I received a scolding that I was the most disappointing writer out there. My mind gravitates to the side where I believe I'm great but then it also lures into the depressing end of knowing I suck.
I always remind myself that being a reporter now is more than just writing a briefing that was live online or in Zoom. I wait hours on end for speeches and meetings, even on my off-days, out of obligation and the art of my work. My mind gets overwhelmed by different consecutive briefings daily and it's harder to write on them considering the time constraint of a newspaper press. One also needs to think fast when the news changes drastically one minute to next because the government obviously does not cooperate well together.
I want to finish writing this with a resolution that's happy and motivating after the tumultuous existential crisis as a writer I faced this year but I think that's impossible and I won't force myself to close this post with something inauthentic. I won't lie that there were those rare moments I did fall out of love with what I do yet here I am still fighting.
Love is a choice. I chose to love the country and serve it by loving my purpose as a writer. There were times that my heart beating fast was due to anxiety more than excitement but in the end, I want to do this. My heart has always been in this. Almost three years a journalist and surviving this year, there's so much more to navigate so why do I have to stop now?
