Seven is a captivating number. One of the first major conflicts in the world lasted for seven years, hence the name. We’ve read it in literature, from Dante Alighieri's Inferno to Brothers Grimm’s Snow White. In modern times, this number even echoes through pop music. Just search it on Spotify and you'll discover tons of songs inspired by it.

This prime number is present throughout the annals of mankind, even in TomasinoWeb’s history shared with a convenience store, so much so that I took it to heart. Which is why I spent seven years before exiting the Arch of the Centuries.

If truth be told, I failed the USTET and was only reconsidered for admission into the Electronics Engineering Department. During my first year in Ruaño, I wandered through figures and calculations with indifference.

Consequently, I wasn’t bothered by unsatisfactory scores. There was even a time when I didn’t prepare anything for a presentation. But during the consultation period after finals, when I found out I had failed a subject by a mere margin, a daunting realization crossed my mind: I was chasing another kid’s dream of becoming an engineer.

I wasn’t where I was meant to be — but frankly, I had no idea where I wanted to be either.

(Photo of ENG 1-7, 2019)

So I hit the brakes. On a random afternoon in 2019, I made a pivot. I walked away from the classroom and into a call center in Mandaluyong. Instead of lectures and exams, I faced irate customers and KPIs. While my peers were just waking up to attend their morning classes, I was heading home after surviving another graveyard shift.

The same routine went on and on until COVID happened. Despite taking a year off, I still couldn’t see myself fitting into any field. That’s when I decided to turn inward and do whatever sparked my curiosity during lockdown. I took free online classes about anything, ranging from the sciences that explain the world to the philosophies that explore what makes us human — anything that might help me answer the one question of a lifetime: What do I really want to be?

Come May 2021, I saw an opportunity to shift to the College of Commerce and Business Administration as a Marketing Management student. Never did I imagine myself wearing a yellow dress shirt, but that was both the price and the surprise of starting over again. While my original college friends were just a thesis away from graduation, I found myself back at square one.

A lot has changed since I came back. Along with the new normal, the old familiar spots had been replaced by new TikTok favorites. Outsiders were no longer allowed at Paskuhan. And in class, I was the only one with a student number starting with 2018. But luckily, no one called me kuya — perhaps because I kept my age a secret.

Second chances demand a price. As an irregular student, I surrendered my hopes of graduating with distinction. I was also acutely aware that, regardless of the excellent marks in my student portal, I still carry the weight of my mistakes from years ago. Yet unlike before, I’m now the one in control.

(Photo of M6 Class of 2025)

This time around, I expanded my horizons — stepping up to lead various committees of EARTH-UST and offering my talents as a blog writer, then as an Executive Vice President, for TomasinoWeb. I involved myself beyond the rustic walls of St. Raymund, refusing to let time slip away the way I used to do.

Like wilted leaves on the ground, my yesterday’s regrets lie silently, yet remain part of the soil that helped me grow.

Normally, our parents expect us to finish our college degrees on time, but it’s perfectly okay if some of us don’t. When BINI performed Karera two years ago in Paskuhan, just a dance step away from the stardom they would soon achieve, the lyrics felt like a message.

I, too, have stopped seeing everything as a race. College is not a road with a set speed limit. There’s no need to rush, no need to compare speeds. Let yourself enjoy the scenic view of being a student for a while.

My victory is nothing without God and the people who pushed me towards the end.

(Kurt Alec Mira, outgoing Executive Vice President)

To my mom and sis, Cindy and Patricia, thank you for always taking care of me, for making sure my stomach was never empty, and for constantly praying for my well-being. I am deeply grateful for your unconditional love, even when we argue sometimes. I promise to carry both of you in my heart.

To my dad, Levi, who tirelessly found ways to help me finish my studies, please don't worry about me anymore. I’ll be spending the next few years with you.

To Charles and Dani, thank you for being my refuge, for lending an ear and a shoulder, every time I couldn’t keep up anymore.

To my PCC barkada, Bane, Mikki, Anne, Bea, Bianca, Gorjeff, Sophie, Dan, Vicenta, Claire, and Brian, thank you for enduring my endless yapping sessions and for a decade of genuine platonic love.

To my friends in the Faculty of Engineering, Pam, Kiara, and the rest of my study buddies, thank you for being there for me several years ago. You are all engineers now, and I can’t wait to join you in the workforce.

To my default group, Myrr, Chel, and Xyle, thank you for accepting me despite my flaws. Finishing our thesis together was challenging yet fulfilling, and I wouldn’t have done it with anyone else.

To M6, Mako, Anton, David, Josh, Lorenz, Faith, there are too many of you to mention, but I will dearly cherish our classroom shenanigans and the spontaneous tambay after class. Those moments made my college journey lighter.

To EARTH-UST, my other family, Anjela, Roma, Sky, Chay, Gaile, thank you for the sporadic conversations even if most of you have graduated already. Our Tagaytay trip truly cemented our friendships. And to TWG, Echo, Kat, Levie, Eya, may your pens never run dry.

To TomasinoWeb, JC, Mika, Lance G., my blogs girlies, thank you for your constant support and trust, and to Emman and to my kids in Community Development, External Affairs, and Special Projects, whom I collectively call CES, I will always root for everyone of you.

Lastly, to UST, thank you for embracing me similar to the father who welcomed his prodigal son. You’ve been my special space amidst the noise and rain in Manila.

As I leave our alma mater, I will miss the pungent sidewalk smells, the chaotic orchestra of jeepney and bus horns, the line of street vendors selling tusok-tusok, and, of course, the heavy downpours that tried to spoil even my last day as a student. Because despite the countless challenges I faced — the tears, the rejections, and all the ugliness in between — I will forever be proud of UST.

There are seven days in a week. Each day, we can start over and over again, at any stage, in any chapter of our lives. It doesn’t have to be smooth sailing, because mine took seven years in the making.