On Air

Do you ever think about the version of you that almost existed?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about mine. The version of me that talks into a mic for a living. The version that does time checks on air and asks strangers thoughtful questions. The version that became a DJ.

Spoiler: that didn’t happen. But I got pretty close.

Raised to Entertain, Wired to Retreat

I was raised to be an extrovert, or at least trained like one. I couldn’t just stay in my room whenever guests came over (and oh, did we have guests). I had to greet them, talk to them, perform a little. It wasn’t until much later in life that I realized: I’m an introvert. A functional one, sure. But still an introvert.

Even back then, I loved words. I enjoyed giving speeches, leading prayers, and organizing group activities. Until one English teacher, whom I admired deeply, had me read an entire sentence on the board written without spaces... without breathing. In front of the whole class.

That moment wrecked me a little.

Being corrected publicly by someone you admire? It's a special kind of sting. But also, maybe, that moment was the seed of something else.

A Radio Dream in the Making

Maybe that moment burrowed deep into my subconscious. Maybe that’s why, after two years of business administration (a compromise between what I wanted and what my mom hoped: nursing), I found my way to European Languages and Speech Communication. I had unfinished business with the spoken word.

What most people don’t know is that I used to be a campus radio host, producer, and writer. I was head of the publicity committee, always scripting events, always somewhere behind (or near) the mic.

I loved my radio classes. I dreaded speech presentations, yes, but the thrill of preparing for them? That I adored. I was surrounded by national broadcasters and brilliant orators. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be a courtside reporter for UAAP games. I could already hear my voice over the crowd.

And yet, the irony: I hate the sound of my own voice.
Still do.

Too fast, too high-pitched, too something. I know all the vocal techniques, heck, I’ve been trained! but I never feel quite right.

My Podcast That Never Was

For years, I’ve dreamed of launching a podcast. I’ve guested on a few (thank you, brave friends), but never felt “legit” enough to host my own. I admire the people who’ve found their voice and claimed their space online with so much clarity. I’m still learning how to do that.

Not long ago, I found myself watching a talk show hosted by a Filipina actress I used to admire (pre-politics). She was interviewing a DJ, and just like that, I remembered how much I loved listening to the radio.

Jo D’ Mango’s love advice, Papa Jack’s banters, starting my day with The Morning Rush, continuing on my commute in traffic with Tambalan... The voices that kept me company in quiet rooms and car rides. The joy of visiting radio booths, the awe of meeting DJs in real life. The thrill of remembering my own radio segment’s time check and pre-commercial spiel:

“Ang oras ay alas-4 ng hapon. Kayo ay nakikinig sa DZUP 1602. Kasapi ng KBP, Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas. DZUP 1602, kasali ka!”

Sometimes I still whisper that to myself. Just to remember how fun it felt.

I Still Get the Ick

Despite everything, I still get nervous speaking in public. Even now, in my current work, where speaking looks a little different. I still cringe at my voice. I still get the ick.

But I also know I love stories. I love telling them. Listening to them. Writing them. Somewhere in all of this, maybe I’ve already found my mic, just in a different shape or form?

No grand conclusion here. Just a soft sigh for a version of me that almost existed.

Maybe she still does?

And you, what is your own "almost life", the dream you almost chased? Or the one you're still quietly holding on to?