Christmas in the Philippines doesn’t arrive all at once — it slowly settles in. From church songs at dawn and parols lining the streets to station IDs and holiday films we replay every year, stories have always been how we gather, remember, and feel seen. This piece reflects on how film became part of our Christmas tradition — and why representation and shared stories matter most during Pasko.

The first step rarely feels right. It feels uncertain, awkward, and heavy with doubt. You question your timing, your ability, and whether you’re even meant to be here at all. But beginnings aren’t supposed to feel confident. They’re supposed to feel unfamiliar. And sometimes, the only way to understand where you’re going is to take the step that feels wrong and trust that clarity will follow.

Starting your first film is scary. Fear, doubts, and imperfect tools can make you freeze before you even press “record.” But every messy, awkward, “cringe-worthy” attempt is a step toward discovering your voice as a filmmaker. Your story deserves to be told — so take the leap. Make it anyway.

You heard that right, nobody cares about your life story, your struggles, your wins, or even your biggest heartbreak. The world already has so much going on that people don’t always have the time or emotional capacity to pause and truly listen. Especially today, in a society and generation where our country is plagued with corruption and lack of accountability, why would we want to watch something that does nothing but confront you with the harsh reality? Well, you see — that