What If Tomorrow Never Comes?

The first time I picked up a pen to scribble out my pent-up emotions—pouring my passions and sentiments into a diary—I was in grade school. I remember confiding in those pages about the boy who had a crush on me, my disputes with childhood friends, my performance in class, and everything that happened that day. Every time I began with “Dear Self,” I couldn’t seem to stop. I wrote poems that came to mind, and the words flowed freely. Back then, I wrote to express my feelings—and to process them.

As I grew older, I discovered that writing was cathartic. As I vented, released, and purged my emotions, I felt relief. Writing became a habit I couldn’t outgrow—something that slowly became a part of me.

In seventh grade, I became addicted to reading pocketbooks, which later turned into eBooks and Wattpad stories. Though writing was a habit, reading was my first love. I went from finishing two pocketbooks in a weekend to devouring an entire series in two days. I couldn’t satisfy my craving for stories—for knowing what happened next. Ever since I first picked up a book, I never outgrew reading.

As I became a voracious reader, I also began sharpening my writing skills. From diary entries, I explored journalism—trying my hand at column writing, sports writing, news writing, and editorial work. Yet I found myself most at home in feature writing. There was something about creative storytelling that pulled me in. I began writing short stories, which gradually grew longer and more layered. And then it clicked—I wanted to publish my own work. Somewhere, in another world, someone would read a book I wrote and fall in love with the escapism of my creativity and art.

I’ve written poetry about the guava tree, the lake by the cornfields, and the mango tree near my high school. I’ve told stories of friends who became lovers, enemies who fell in love, childhood sweethearts, summer romances, office romances, and second chances—stories that swirled in my mind and demanded to be written.

The first book I ever finished was a small-town romance about a girl named Abby who fell in love with Reno. Its working title was I’ll Stay, later changed to TUPU: The Unkempt Promise Unkept. It still makes me smile to remember how deeply immersed I was in finishing it. New ideas kept me awake at night—unless I picked up my pen. And pick it up I did. I’ve completed several manuscripts since TUPU, while pausing others to chase fresh ideas. My teenage writing was filled with clichés I once thought were brilliant—some I’m still reconsidering publishing. I’ve revisited those stories, telling myself, “I want these to be read. I want them to be known.” Many are now edited and polished, waiting only for final proofreading.

Without a publisher—and without the financial capacity to fully support my writing—I’ve decided to self-publish. There are countless resources online about self-publishing and marketing. But alongside the excitement of sharing my work comes fear. What if readers don’t receive my books well? What if I’m not good enough? The anxiety lingers at night, quietly delaying my plans.

I see people my age getting married, starting families, and earning more than I do. They seem happy, and sometimes I feel envious. I want that too—a career that pays me three times my current salary and fulfills me. Still, I’m grateful. Seeing others succeed has clarified what I want for myself.

So I asked myself: Do I have to wait for tomorrow?

The answer was a bold and resounding NO.

What if tomorrow comes and passes me by? What if tomorrow is simply another excuse? For nearly three years, I’ve planned to start my own website. I kept postponing it. But now, I’m finally doing it. This is my first step toward sharing my work with the world.

The truth is, I may never recognize “tomorrow” even if it stands right in front of me. I would keep finding reasons to delay, filing them neatly in a folder labeled FEAR. All I have to do is turn today into my tomorrow.

So, what can you expect from this space?

Here, I’ll offer the most genuine version of myself. I’ll share the books that captivated me, writing tips I’ve learned along the way, my journey as a writer, my works in progress, the things I love, the people I love, my diary entries, and the love letters I never sent.

To any young girl reading this—I want you to see courage in this step. I want you to see someone willing to leap into the unknown in pursuit of a dream. Life will confront us with fear, worry, and anxiety. But it is our response that defines us and shapes our future. There is always something beautiful on the other side of the door—on the other side of fear.

Don’t let fear imprison you from realizing your full potential. Turn your ideas into action. Success and failure often begin in the same place: a dream. What separates them is how we respond to fear and risk. And even if things don’t unfold according to plan, remember—trying is never a failure. It is not the end. It is the beginning of something beautiful.

I don’t want to spend my later years regretting the chances I didn’t take. I don’t want to look back and realize I let tomorrow pass me by.

I want my future self to be proud.

Tomorrow never stops coming.

And it’s time I seize it.