GROWING BEYOND BORDERS : MY JOURNEY AS ON OFW
Growing Beyond Borders: My Journey as an OFW
I didn’t plan to become an Overseas Filipino Worker. I didn’t imagine I’d be far from my children, working in a foreign country, carrying homesickness like a second skin. But life doesn’t always follow the path we expect.
I graduated from Palawan State University with a degree in Bachelor of Entrepreneurship. I worked at the Provincial Capitol, then moved to Manila for a more challenging role as a Company Secretary. That’s where I met my husband, and together we built a life and raised three beautiful children.
But love alone doesn’t pay the bills. And dreams don’t grow without sacrifice.
So I made the hardest decision of my life—I left. I went to Hong Kong to work as a domestic helper. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I wanted my children to have more than I had. I wanted to give them choices, even if it meant giving up mine.
There were nights I cried quietly, missing birthdays, missing hugs, missing the ordinary moments that make a family feel whole. But I kept going. Because that’s what mothers do.
Learning as Survival, Learning as Hope
I didn’t want my life to be just about work and waiting. I wanted to grow—even if the world saw me only as a helper.
So I made a promise to myself: Use your day off worthwhile.
I started attending classes and joining training programs. I studied creative writing and photography at I enrolled at Ateneo LSE-Hong Kong ( Leadership and social enterprise ) —anything that made me feel alive again. Learning became my way of fighting back. Against the feeling of being stuck. Against the idea that I was only what my job said I was. I don’t want to sit idly by, doing nothing, just waiting for the day to pass. I don't like those ideas.
Hiking, Healing, and the Art of Seeing
On my days off, I hike, run, and walk through trails without a destination—just the need to breathe. Nature doesn’t ask questions; it just listens.
When I hike, I take photos. Not just to capture beauty, but to remind myself that I’m still here, still capable of seeing the world with wonder. A misty morning, a burst of wildflowers, the way sunlight filters through trees—these moments remind me that life is still beautiful, even when it’s hard.
Poetry is my therapy. I write with my heart, not just my pen. I write when I miss home, when I feel strong, and when I don’t know what else to do with the ache inside me. My verses may be raw and sometimes messy or poorly written, but they’re mine. They help me make sense of everything I carry. After I write, I feel okay. There have been times I've participated in online poetry competitions on Facebook, and I often won or was chosen as the best poet of the day. Winning is not my purpose; it’s my way to heal.
Hiking, photography, poetry, singing with my guitar—and now working hard to publish my solo book—these aren’t just hobbies. They’re survival. They're therapies. They’re how I stay connected to myself in a life that often asks me to forget who I am.
Captured Moments from the Trail
Standing tall on a rocky outcrop, arms raised to the sky—freedom in motion.
Touching a tree branch, overlooking a vast lake—stillness and strength.
Climbing a rugged slope, eyes on the horizon—determined and alive.
This is my story. Not perfect. Not easy. But real.
If you’re an OFW reading this, I hope you know—you’re not alone. We are more than our jobs. We are more than our distance. We are women who rise, who learn, who feel deeply, and who keep walking forward.
How about you?
What is your OFW story?
Would you like to share to inspires?
I didn’t plan to become an Overseas Filipino Worker. I didn’t imagine I’d be far from my children, working in a foreign country, carrying homesickness like a second skin. But life doesn’t always follow the path we expect.
I graduated from Palawan State University with a degree in Bachelor of Entrepreneurship. I worked at the Provincial Capitol, then moved to Manila for a more challenging role as a Company Secretary. That’s where I met my husband, and together we built a life and raised three beautiful children.
But love alone doesn’t pay the bills. And dreams don’t grow without sacrifice.
So I made the hardest decision of my life—I left. I went to Hong Kong to work as a domestic helper. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I wanted my children to have more than I had. I wanted to give them choices, even if it meant giving up mine.
There were nights I cried quietly, missing birthdays, missing hugs, missing the ordinary moments that make a family feel whole. But I kept going. Because that’s what mothers do.
Learning as Survival, Learning as Hope
I didn’t want my life to be just about work and waiting. I wanted to grow—even if the world saw me only as a helper.
So I made a promise to myself: Use your day off worthwhile.
I started attending classes and joining training programs. I studied creative writing and photography at I enrolled at Ateneo LSE-Hong Kong ( Leadership and social enterprise ) —anything that made me feel alive again. Learning became my way of fighting back. Against the feeling of being stuck. Against the idea that I was only what my job said I was. I don’t want to sit idly by, doing nothing, just waiting for the day to pass. I don't like those ideas.
Hiking, Healing, and the Art of Seeing
On my days off, I hike, run, and walk through trails without a destination—just the need to breathe. Nature doesn’t ask questions; it just listens.
When I hike, I take photos. Not just to capture beauty, but to remind myself that I’m still here, still capable of seeing the world with wonder. A misty morning, a burst of wildflowers, the way sunlight filters through trees—these moments remind me that life is still beautiful, even when it’s hard.
Poetry is my therapy. I write with my heart, not just my pen. I write when I miss home, when I feel strong, and when I don’t know what else to do with the ache inside me. My verses may be raw and sometimes messy or poorly written, but they’re mine. They help me make sense of everything I carry. After I write, I feel okay. There have been times I've participated in online poetry competitions on Facebook, and I often won or was chosen as the best poet of the day. Winning is not my purpose; it’s my way to heal.
Hiking, photography, poetry, singing with my guitar—and now working hard to publish my solo book—these aren’t just hobbies. They’re survival. They're therapies. They’re how I stay connected to myself in a life that often asks me to forget who I am.
Captured Moments from the Trail
Standing tall on a rocky outcrop, arms raised to the sky—freedom in motion.
Touching a tree branch, overlooking a vast lake—stillness and strength.
Climbing a rugged slope, eyes on the horizon—determined and alive.
This is my story. Not perfect. Not easy. But real.
If you’re an OFW reading this, I hope you know—you’re not alone. We are more than our jobs. We are more than our distance. We are women who rise, who learn, who feel deeply, and who keep walking forward.
How about you?
What is your OFW story?
Would you like to share to inspires?
Comment down below or message me.
About the Author
Hi, I’m Mari Felices. I write about love, heartbreak, and the quiet lessons life teaches us along the way. My words are pieces of my soul—sometimes poetic, sometimes raw, but always honest. If even one person finds comfort in my story, then my writing has done its purpose.
Comments
Post a Comment