Areason to be hopeful

My Net-A-Porter shoe wish list may stretch the length of Edsa, but my true New Year’s wish consists of only one thing: that 2016 was all just a bad dream, and I’ll wake up on New Year’s Day to find that none of the year’s s--t shows around the world really happened. I know, I know. Kaya nga wish. But dear Santa, if you’re reading this old child’s letter, please give me a reason to be upbeat and hopeful about the new year.

It’s easy to not read the news and stay away from social media—it can be done, I did it for three months in 2016—just so one can avoid all the bad news and gore, and being roped into all the idiocy and negativity. But that won’t make what’s actually happening untrue.

The world needs peace, and I need peace of mind. Never have I felt anxiety about my safety in this country until this year. Living here has its day-today headaches and heartaches as it is, without us worrying about when we could potentially be killed in a crossfire or a case of mistaken identity.

Never have I truly considered moving to another country until now—except that the entire planet seems to be in an unending loop of what astrologers call a Mercury retrograde. Where in the world can one actually seek refuge, where you won’t be bombed or discriminated against?

When you’re front row and center in a daily s--t show, you tend to take stock of your life, look past your frivolous wants, and realize just what’s important. Those studded Alexander Wang loafers are the bomb, and those Gianvito Rossi cut-out pumps are to die for (puns intended), but—heavens!—how will I ever get to wear them if I get shot while walking my dogs at night?