26/11/2025
The ๐๐ข๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ is not just a theory in my textbooks, it is the reason I am walking into this confessional.
When Filipinos see someone entering the confessional, we often imagine a long list of sins, plenty of guilt, and a very scared heart. In this photo it is me. Not as a psychologist, not as a teacher, but as a sinner who still needs mercy. I have spent years studying the mind, emotions, and behavior, yet I still find myself walking into this small wooden box because I know healing is more than what any theory can contain.
In psychology we call it the ๐๐ข๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ model. It sounds very academic, but it simply means this: my body, my mind, my relationships, and my soul are all talking to each other. When one suffers, the others feel it. When one begins to heal, the others slowly breathe again.
๐ฝ๐๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ก. I am Filipino. I grew up hearing โtiis langโ and โkaya mo yanโ while my body was already giving me signs that I was tired, anxious, or depressed. Sleep, food, hormones, illnesses, side effects of medications, even the heat of Manila traffic, all of these affect my mood and my choices. I cannot pray away my need for rest, just as I cannot sleep away a deep spiritual emptiness. Taking care of my body is not a lack of faith. It is part of faith.
๐๐จ๐ฎ๐๐๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ก. I live with my own fears, intrusive thoughts, and old wounds. Like many of you, I have had nights of overthinking, days when I smiled in public but felt numb inside. Therapy, skills like DBT and ACT, and the courage to face my story have helped me name what I feel instead of simply saying โok lang ako.โ When we work on our thoughts and emotions, we are not being โmahina sa faith.โ We are being honest. And honesty is where real conversion begins.
๐๐ค๐๐๐๐ก. As Filipinos, our hearts are tied to family, barkada, church ministries, and work culture. We feel the weight of expectations: anak ka ng mabait na pamilya, ikaw ang panganay, ikaw ang provider, ikaw ang laging strong. Gossip, comparisons, and unspoken pressures can crush even a prayerful person. At the same time, the right community can lift us up in ways no medication or self-help book can. Healing is not only โme and God.โ It is also the friends who check on you, the therapist who listens, the priest who patiently hears your confession, the loved ones who stay.
๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐ช๐๐ก. This is the part the confessional reminds me of. I can take my medicines, practice my coping skills, set boundaries, and still feel that something in me longs for forgiveness, meaning, and grace. I enter this small room because I believe sin is real and mercy is even more real. I am not here because I am already holy. I am here because I fall, I fail, I hurt others, and I hurt myself. The sacrament does not erase my history, but it tells me that my story is not finished and that God has not given up on me.
As a psychologist and a Catholic, I do not see therapy and confession as competitors. They are two different rooms that God uses to reach the same wounded person. In one room I learn to understand my thoughts, emotions, and patterns. In the other I receive grace, forgiveness, and the quiet strength to start again. I have cried in both kinds of rooms. I have walked out of both feeling a little lighter, a little more alive.
If you are not Catholic or do not share my faith, I hope you still hear this: you are allowed to seek help for all parts of you. Your body deserves care. Your mind deserves understanding. Your relationships deserve honesty. Your spirit, however you understand it, deserves a safe place to rest. I respect that your path may look different from mine. What matters is that you do not walk alone, and that you do not carry everything in silence.
If you are Catholic and you have been far from confession because of shame, judgment, or fear, I want to tell you this as a fellow sinner who also struggles: God already knows the mess. He is not surprised by your weaknesses. He is not waiting for you to become perfect before you come back. The clinic of mercy opens its door first, then the change follows. Not the other way around.
The ๐๐ข๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ model teaches me that real healing is not either faith or science. It is not either prayer or therapy. It is body and mind and relationships and soul, held together by a God who cares about all of me. So today, as you see this picture of me entering the confessional, I hope you remember your own door of healing, whatever that looks like for you.
Take your meds if they are prescribed. Go to therapy if you need it. Rest your tired body. Talk to a friend. And if your heart is nudged to return to God, do not be afraid of that small wooden door. It is not a door of shame. It is an entrance into a mercy that wants to touch every part of your ๐๐ข๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ life.
My prayer is simple. May you find that place of healing too, in the way God knows will reach you best. And when that moment comes, may you recognize it the way I recognize this photo of myself: not as proof that I am perfect, but as proof that grace is still chasing me, one small step into the confessional at a time.
