I didn't start with a plan. I started with school fees and a bag of peanuts to sell

My dad was the only one working. My mom stayed home to take care of us. That meant his salary had to cover food, school, and three kids who kept needing more as we grew up. I was the eldest, and in my family, being the eldest wasn't just about being the oldest. It meant helping take care of everyone else too.

I didn't fully understand money problems back then. I just knew things were tight, and I felt it even before I could explain it.

There were nights we ate rice with nothing but salt on it, because there simply wasn't money for anything else. When the toothpaste ran out, we used salt for that too, rubbed straight onto our teeth, and just made do. There were stretches when the electricity got cut off because we couldn't pay the bill, and we'd do homework by candlelight like it was completely normal, because for us, it was.

I'm telling these parts plainly because that's how I lived them. They weren't dramatic moments at the time. They were just Tuesdays.

While other kids worried about tests, I was also thinking about how many peanuts and candies I needed to sell that day just to have money for lunch and my fare home. I'd bring them to school in my bag and sell them quietly between classes. I didn't like asking my parents for extra money. I knew how hard it already was for them.

My dad worked hard and gave us everything he could. But "everything he could" still wasn't enough for three kids in school at the same time. So I found small ways to make up the difference myself.

I got into a good university, and for a while that felt like proof things were going to be okay. But getting in was just the start. I had to take on part-time jobs around my classes just to stay enrolled and still send a little money home when I could.

No semester felt easy. It was always just the next deadline, the next shift, and figuring out tuition again.

I always told myself I'd give back to my parents one day. Finish school, get a good job, and take some of the pressure off my dad. I wanted him to see his three kids able to stand on their own.

In 2015, my dad passed away. Before I could give anything back. Before he got to see it.

I still think about that a lot. There's no easy way to say it, so I won't try to. It's just something that happened, and it's a big part of why I work the way I do now.

My first job paid ₱10,200 a month ~ around €170 ($180) today. It wasn't a lot, but it was mine, and it felt like a start.

I still remember how I budgeted that salary. ₱3,000 for groceries. ₱1,500–₱2,000 to my dad for fare and gas. ₱1,000 was my budget for my siblings. Whatever was left had to cover my own fare and food.

Working life turned out to be harder than school in a different way. I made some bad decisions. I took on debt I didn't need, trying to chase things that looked like progress but weren't. I made real mistakes, and some of them took a long time to fix. That's part of my story too.

My family wasn't the only one who carried me through this. My partner did too. They saw me at my worst ~ deep in debt and frustrated with myself ~ and didn't walk away.

It's one thing to fix your finances on your own. It's another to do it with someone next to you who still believes in you on the days you don't believe in yourself.

I didn't give up, even when it would have been easier to. I worked on fixing my habits, my finances, and how I thought about money. Bit by bit, I started building something that was actually mine ~ not just another way to get by, but a business I'm proud of.

I'm sharing this because I don't think people should only see the put-together version of someone's life. If you're the eldest, the one taking care of everyone, the one still paying off old mistakes, or just figuring things out as you go ~ I understand, because I've been there.

Everything I went through is exactly why I remind myself to stay grounded and humble, no matter how much things improve. I don't need to dress to impress, and I don't need to show people a version of me that isn't real.

What matters is that I'm building something real, and I'd rather stay honest about where I came from than perform a life I don't actually live.