What’s meant for you won’t pass you by—and Explained PH sure didn’t

For many, this phrase is too comforting. It certainly did the same to me after I read The Alchemist. But it stopped feeling comforting when I was the one watching an opportunity slip through my hands.

Three years ago, I shifted to News Writing – English category, a crucial move considering it was my first time writing news and already my final year in high school. But the universe had better plans, pushing me to the Regional Schools Press Conference (RSPC) after I finished first in my division.

I knew I had to give it my best shot and prove that, despite discouragement from many, lack of experience, and limited support, one can still reach the top if they try hard enough.

Coincidentally, during my training period, Explained PH’s Editor-in-Chief, kuya Archie Bergosa, spearheaded a free journalism workshop in celebration of his 10 years as a campus journalist. For the second time since winning, I felt like the universe was helping me take my shot.

During the workshop, I met Ate Bless Ogerio, the Features and Lifestyle Editor of the organization at that time. She was already in her final years of college when I messaged her to ask if she could help me with my training. She was kind enough to agree despite her busy schedule.

Ate Bless was just one of many individuals I asked for help from. I had to swallow my pride and reach out to people to improve my writing—because I wanted to be better. I needed to be better.

I even tried manifesting it by calling myself a national winner and wishing every 11:11. It truly felt like it was meant to be. And then… I didn’t get it.

Unfortunately, I lost.

It was tragic, and it almost felt like a villain origin story. On my way home from Pampanga National High School, I kept thinking about what I would tell all these people. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them after taking so much of their time and effort.

And still, what’s truly meant for you will never pass you by, even in the most competitive situations or when the odds seem stacked against you. If it is truly meant for you, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it, at least that’s what Paulo Coelho said in his book, right?

Weeks after our RSPC, the very own organization that helped me during my training period, Explained PH, opened its volunteering applications. I immediately filled out the form without hesitation. And after months of waiting, I finally got in.

At a time when I felt lost, I found my way to Explained PH, and it has been my home ever since. I met people who shared the same burning passion as I did—maybe even stronger—and each of them shaped me into who I am today in many ways I never expected.

I grew in campus journalism, even without pursuing it as a degree, and the people around me grew alongside me. Ate Bless eventually became the Managing Editor before leaving the organization to become a professional journalist, while many of the friends I met here continued to grow in the field—becoming staffers, editors, and executives. And eventually, I’ve become an editor myself.

Unlike that trip home from Pampanga last May 22, 2024, it no longer feels lonely and silent anymore. If anything, it feels full and alive. In Explained PH, I feel alive.

When I lost the ticket to nationals during my last RSPC run, I thought the journey didn’t work out. But actually, it worked out just in a different way.

After all, if I hadn’t lost that day, I wouldn’t have met Sheki, who continues to shape my leadership; Cess, who never fails to make me laugh; Fernan, who continues to inspire me in so many ways; Peter, who had never gotten tired of my rants; and all the staffers who’ve grown with me.

Perhaps, this is the path that the universe conspires for me to have all along, not just to lose, but to find the people who would redefine what winning truly means. And within this lies a greater mission of growing, leading, and becoming someone worthy of the very chances I once thought I had lost from going home without placing first.

Through Explained PH, I have learned that you do not need a medal nor certificate to be called a winner. All you need to have is that strong burning desire to make a meaningful impact beyond the settings of competition—and I think that alone weighs more than any medals I have earned.

Until then, all you have to do is trust. After all, what’s meant for you will always find you, not always in the ways you expect, not always at the moments you want, but in a way that will make sense someday.

If this piece reaches many campus journalists who were once just like me, lost and losing, I want you to know that losing in a press conference isn’t the end of your JOURNey. It is just the beginning of something better and bigger. And it’s just a matter of time before the universe conspires for you to achieve it.

Because one day, you might be like me—crying on your way home after losing a competition, and before you even know it, becoming part of something even bigger than the podiums. So, don’t lose hope; the universe needs more voices like ours anyway.