Finding Room to Breathe in Baguio

I lived in Batangas for almost four years, and I loved it there. I still do. It’s a place I will always associate with some of the best things that happened in my life.

I grew in my career, became financially stable, and learned to enjoy my own company. There was spiritual growth, too. I had time to pray, reflect, and think about what I wanted my life to become.

Looking back, I have so much to be grateful for. Batangas witnessed a version of me that worked hard to build something better.

But after a while, something began to feel different.

I was doing well, at least on paper. My work was going fine. I had established a routine that worked for me. Yet I was beginning to feel uncomfortable in ways I couldn’t explain.

The strangest part was that I couldn’t tell whether I was tired of the place or tired of myself for hardly ever leaving it.

A feeling I couldn’t explain

Around that time, I began experiencing strange sensations in my gut. I didn’t know what to make of them, so I eventually went to the hospital.

The examinations didn’t reveal a physical problem that explained what I was feeling. I was told stress and anxiety might be involved.

Honestly, I was confused. I thought I was doing fine. I had my career, my financial stability, and my independence. What exactly was I supposed to be anxious about?

I didn’t find an immediate answer to that question. I was relieved by the medical results, but still unsure what to make of the experience.

What I did know was that I wanted to get out of my usual surroundings. I wanted to wake up somewhere different.

And somehow, Baguio seemed like the right place to go.

Just me and a city I wanted to get lost in

I decided to go alone. No elaborate itinerary, no companion, and no particular pressure to make the trip memorable.

I wanted cold weather. I wanted unfamiliar streets. I wanted to walk around without constantly thinking about work or what I needed to accomplish next.

There is something liberating about traveling by yourself. You can eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re tired, and change your plans without discussing them with anyone.

I liked having that freedom. I think I needed it.

The nights were my favorite

I particularly enjoyed walking around Baguio at night.

The air was cold, people were out enjoying their evenings, and locals were simply going about their lives.

There was nothing especially extraordinary about those moments. I wasn’t always headed to a famous attraction or looking for something to photograph.

Sometimes I just walked. That was the whole plan.

After spending so much time doing the same things in Batangas, being somewhere unfamiliar felt refreshing.

Nobody knew who I was. Nobody knew what I had accomplished or what had been bothering me. To them, I was probably just another person enjoying the city.

And for once, I was happy to be exactly that.

Perhaps Batangas wasn’t the problem

While I was in Baguio, I found myself thinking about Batangas.

I’d been using the word suffocating to describe how I felt before leaving. But the longer I thought about it, the less fair that seemed.

Batangas had been good to me. Very good. Some of the most meaningful progress of my life happened there.

Maybe I wasn’t tired of Batangas at all. Maybe I had simply allowed my world to become too small.

I had grown comfortable with familiar streets, familiar habits, and familiar days. I had become so focused on the life I was building that I rarely stepped outside it.

And I suppose even a good routine can feel limiting when it becomes the only one you know.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting a little distance from a place you love.

You can appreciate everything somewhere has given you and still want to see what else is out there.

What I brought home from Baguio

I wish I could say that my trip answered every question I had about myself.

It didn’t.

I still had responsibilities waiting for me. I still had work to do, and the strange feelings that led me to question my routine weren’t something a holiday could simply cure.

But I didn’t go to Baguio looking for a miracle.

I wanted to feel the cold air, walk unfamiliar streets, and enjoy my own company somewhere different.

That’s exactly what I got.

I still love Batangas. I’ll always appreciate the four years I spent there and everything they allowed me to become.

But I’m also glad I went to Baguio alone.