I boarded the early flight from Cebu to Manila with a quiet heart. No crowds, no noise — just the thrum of the aircraft engine and the heavy silence of my thoughts.
The plane took off gently, as if it knew my emotions were still fragile. I watched Cebu shrink from the window, the shoreline turning into veins of blue and green below. And somewhere in that moment, I felt something shift.
I started crying — not sobbing, just the kind of tears that come uninvited when your heart is overflowing. I wasn’t sad exactly. I was… overwhelmed. I thought of everyone I’d said goodbye to. I thought of what I’d left behind, and the ache of it pressed on me like cabin pressure.
But above the clouds, I found perspective. I remembered why I chose this. That I needed a fresh start. That I deserve joy, and peace, and the right to chase my own dreams.
I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and smiled at the flight attendant who offered me juice. I sipped it slowly, like it was medicine.
I’m scared. I’ll admit it. There are still doubts trailing behind me like contrails. But I’m on this flight. I’m doing it.
Next stop: Manila International Airport. And then, the biggest leap of all — the U.S.
Oklahoma feels closer now.
