"SAKTO LANG"

Over lunch today, my colleagues and I touched on a subject that has weighed heavily on my mind for years—complacency. It’s something I’ve seen firsthand growing up in Oriental Mindoro, and it frustrates me deeply, not just in my province but in the Filipinos I meet wherever I travel. It’s a trait that, to me, holds so much potential hostage, limiting the greatness I know we are capable of.

I remember when I was younger, the atmosphere in our hometown was one of contentment, but not the kind that makes you feel fulfilled. It was more like a resignation. People would settle into their routines, not daring to dream too big or reach too far. My parents, who worked tirelessly, often pointed out how many of our neighbors had the ability to improve their lives but didn’t. There was this unspoken rule—be grateful for what you have, don’t rock the boat, and certainly don’t try to rise above the rest. In our province, there’s a phrase I heard far too often: “Sakto na ‘yan” (That’s enough). It’s as if we’ve been conditioned to believe that wanting more—more success, more opportunities, more growth—was somehow a bad thing.

I witnessed this same complacency as I started working overseas, meeting other Filipinos who, like me, had ventured far from home. In Saudi Arabia, I encountered many OFWs who, despite their circumstances, had settled into an attitude of simply surviving, not thriving. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard being away from your family, living in a foreign land, working long hours just to send money home. But there’s a stark difference between enduring hardship to build a better future and merely accepting that hardship as your permanent reality.

One particular instance stands out in my mind. I met a fellow Filipino who, after working abroad for nearly 10 years, had grown weary of the system but seemed utterly resigned to his situation. When I asked him about his plans for the future, he simply shrugged and said, “Wala na, ganito na lang tayo habangbuhay” (This is how we’ll be for the rest of our lives). My heart sank. Here was someone with the same potential, the same opportunities as me, yet he had chosen to stop fighting, to accept the limits of his circumstances. I felt a pang of sadness and anger. Not at him, but at this mindset that seems to plague so many of us.

Even when I visit home, I still see it—this complacency that trickles down through generations. The younger ones, full of dreams and energy, often get swallowed by this narrative that they can’t aspire for more. I’ve seen bright minds who could do so much, held back by the weight of complacency, as if the world beyond their current life is unreachable. They hear it in the words of those around them, “Okay na ‘yan” (That’s good enough), and soon enough, they start to believe it too.

It’s hard to break free from this, and I don’t mean to judge. Life is difficult, and sometimes we are just trying to survive. But I believe in our potential to thrive, not just survive. I’ve experienced it in my own life, the battle against complacency. I’ve worked hard to push past the limitations I’ve felt, to build something better for my daughters and my family. And it hasn’t been easy. There were moments I wanted to give up, moments I doubted myself and felt it would be easier to just accept things as they are. But each time, I reminded myself that I didn’t want to pass down this mindset to my daughters. I didn’t want them to inherit this complacency.

I often think about the life I’ve built far from home. The sacrifices I’ve made, the dreams I’ve chased. Every time I return to Oriental Mindoro, I’m reminded of how far I’ve come, but also of how much more there is to do. There’s this quiet voice in me that says we don’t have to settle. We can aim for more—whether it’s in our careers, our relationships, or the dreams we hold dear. And that’s the message I try to spread whenever I meet fellow Filipinos, whether abroad or back home. I encourage them to see beyond the present, to fight against that little voice that says “just enough is enough.”

I’ve always believed that as Filipinos, we have this unique resilience, a strength that has carried us through countless struggles. But sometimes, that resilience turns into a quiet complacency, and that’s what I hope we can change. I don’t want us to be content with mediocrity. I want us to reach for more, not out of greed, but because we deserve better. We owe it to ourselves, to our families, and to future generations.

At the end of the day, I know it’s a long road ahead. But if we can change the narrative, even just a little, we can transform our future. And maybe, just maybe, we can break free from the chains of complacency that have held us back for so long.

I wish we can all not settle for less than what we’re capable of. We owe it to ourselves to dream bigger, to push harder, and to build a life we can truly be proud of.