The Story of the Beginning of the Rest of My Life**

I am a part of what is sometimes referred to as the Filipino Diaspora, a mass migration that sent Filipinos to foreign countries such as Hong Kong, China, Japan, United States and England. They left their country of birth to seek for a better life, get a better-paying job, escape the corrupt government system, and to reunite with their loved ones.

On June 14, 2003, with a heavy heart and with tears continually flowing from my cheeks, I said goodbye to what I had known and loved all my life. I said goodbye to my sisters, my cousins and my friends. I said goodbye to the country who had, for 21 years, given me joy, hope, tears and love. And for a while, I thought I already said goodbye to my life.

I took a last look at what I'll be leaving behind, and with every step I took towards the Airport entrance, I felt my heart breaking into million pieces. My parents and my brother were no better off, as with their eyes downcast and with silent sobs, they too entered the airport. And when I heard them calling out our flight number, asking us to board the plane, I took my luggage and dragged my feet inside. I took my seat and for a while sat there in silence. I wondered what awaits for me in the United States. I imagined what the rest of my life will be like. I knew I wasn't ready yet. I just graduated from college and I still didn't know what to do with the rest of my life, much less what to do with the rest of my life in a very unfamiliar place. I was so scared; terrified in not knowing what lies ahead, fearful of the unknown.

I never looked at it as a new beginning for me. I looked at it more as an end. After all, I was uprooted from the comfort and security of my home where I always get what I want at the snap of my fingers, to a strange place and strange people where I am expected to live for the rest of my life, with no friends to speak of, and where I am expected to work my butt off to survive.

When we landed in New York City, I was so overwhelmed. I was a nobody there. I was just a short, skinny, brown-skinned, black-haired girl standing amidst tall, blue-eyed blond strangers. I never felt so different in my whole life.

It took a while for me to adjust living in New Jersey. First of all, I came from a tropical country, where the coldest we ever got was 60 degrees Fahrenheit. The first year for me was terrible. I hated the cold weather. I hated winter. And not even the sight of snow for the first time could persuade me to like living here. I hated having to wear thick jackets, thermal underwear, bonnets and gloves. I hated the cold, frigid wind blowing in my face. And most of all, I hated having to stay indoors all the time.

Second, although I have my family and relatives with me, it was still lonely, I haven't met new friends yet, or even though I've met a lot of people, I never established any form of friendship with them, most probably because I am the type of person that takes a while to warm up to someone. I used to love going out with my friends, but because I left all my friends in the Philippines, and I never gained new friends since I left my country, I felt like I was locked up in my own home in New Jersey. I felt I was immobile. I didn't know how to get to any place here and there wasn't anyone to show me.

Third, though my family wasn't rich, my parents provided well for us, their children. They sent me to a very nice, albeit expensive University for my college education. I didn't have to work at all. They gave me everything that I needed and wanted. But when we came here, my parents had to start all over again. So the money was tight for all of us. In order to help pay the growing bills, I went out looking for a job. And I did find one. For the first time in my life, I worked. I found a job as a food service worker at a nursing home. It was hard for me at first. I was never used to standing up for long periods of time, but the work demanded I stand for eight hours.

And lastly, discrimination was never unique to America. I belonged to the minority. And let's face it, I am different. I experienced first hand how different I was. I was called, although in a joking manner, names that made me cringe. I laughed it off then, but deep inside me I was angry. And I harbored this anger within me for almost a year. I thought that I couldn't fight back because I am, after all, a foreigner in this country.

It was very hard for me to adjust to all these changes. For a year I was miserable. When I email my old friends, I would always tell them that I really wanted to go home. America was never home for me. I never accepted it as my home even though it was I who came here.

But then I got tired of being miserable. I do not know exactly when it happened or how. I just suddenly realized that I could be miserable for the rest of my stay here in America - which is forever- or I could do something about it. I decided to make my stay here the beginning of the rest of my life. I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and have a fresh start.

First, I was tired of having a bachelor's degree and working as a food server. I know there's nothing wrong with that, but I do not want to waste my intelligence doing something where I am not even required to think. So I decided to go back to school, and pursue further studies. I decided that I will make a big name for myself here in a country where everything is possible.

Second, slowly but surely, I made some new friends. And what's so nice about it is that some of them are not even Filipinos. They are people I met with different cultures than mine. And I stopped being lonely. How can you be lonely when you are surrounded with people who make you laugh all the time?

Third, though I never liked the very cold weather, I had learned to adjust with it. It wasn't as bad as it was before. Though I still anticipate spring and summer.

And lastly, I learned to stand up for myself. I would only be discriminated if I let people discriminate me. I demanded for respect that I deserve. I demanded for equality. And I got it.

I learned a lot since the day I left what I still consider my home and went to America. I learned that I could be anything that I want to be if I work hard enough to achieve it. I learned the value of independence. I learned that I could only rely on myself. And lastly, I learned that nothing is so bad that it cannot be made into something good. Sure, I thought it was the end of my life as I knew it when I left my country of birth, but I turned it into a beginning for me, to start my life anew, to gain new friends and to gain a new home.

** The essay I wrote for my English Composition class