While most people live by the saying “count your blessings,” I counted my curses during my first two years in Canada.  I cried at the irony of working double survival jobs yet barely making both ends meet in a rich country, compared to my comfortable life in the poor country I had come from.  In Canada, I slept on an inflated mattress on the floor of a rented apartment in Edmonton. In the Philippines, I slept in my own house on a king-size bed made of Burmese rosewood with a real mattress. In Canada, I pushed grocery carts on snowy days as part of my job at Superstore. In the Philippines, I worked as an economic planner for the city and regional government, then as a university instructor in economics and business math. 

I love shoes. However, I don’t have anywhere near the 3000 pairs of Imelda Marcos, former First Lady of my homeland.  My collection is relatively modest, with around 35 pairs. In my collection is a pair of sparkly silver open-toed stilettos. I brought them with me when I immigrated from the Philippines in 2010 with my husband and two children, aged 9 and 12.  These shoes were my favourites for weddings, parties, and even work. In Canada, I keep them in my closet wrapped in Manila paper to preserve them.  

Before my journey to Canada, I was a diva. I never had to worry about bringing food to the table or doing household chores. In addition to a Bachelor of Arts in Economics, I completed my Bachelor of Law and Master of Public Administration. I was nailing my career without a sweat.  I could spend a whole day in a spa or go out all night bar-hopping with friends. I was surrounded by my loving family and relatives, genuine friends, nonjudgmental colleagues, and those I was most grateful for – my dependable nannies and housekeepers who did everything from taking care of my children to washing and ironing my underwear. 

I know. If I had such a good life in the Philippines, why did I choose to join the crazy fad of immigrating to Canada?

When your life is stable and steady, there is no excitement. Moving from a poor country like the Philippines to a developed country like Canada is an enticing thought – my children would have more career options, we would be in a new and peaceful environment, we would be able to experience snow, and I would be able to get a high-paying job because of my education and work experience. Well, I was wrong back then about the high-paying job.

After eight years in Canada, I now sleep in a real bed with a real mattress in my own home.  Some of the curses have turned into blessings. Immigration is humbling. It sucked the diva out of me, which I am grateful for. I’ve become more patient and forgiving. The setbacks did not stop me from raising my children well or getting to where I am now. And instead of counting my curses, I think it is time to unwrap my stilettos, put them on, and consider it a blessing that my shoes and I have made it this far.