Of the unlikely one

THIS WEEK’S WINNER

Bea Karmela S. Calderon, 20, is taking up International Studies at the Ateneo de Davao University. “I have been reading for as long as I can remember and I owe it all to my maternal grandmother who made me read The Little Red Riding Hood even before I went to school. I really aspire to be a writer and am also trying to venture into the world of photography and filmmaking.”

The hardest thing about writing about your favorite book is choosing a suitable book in the first place. Truth be told, it took me two years to decide (okay, three-fourths of the time was spent on contemplating and one-fourth spent on procrastination and postponement) on what a 20-year old, fourth-year university student should consider her favorite book.

I have come across a wide array of choices; mostly biographies of influential women or pieces that touched on the topics of life, culture, spirituality, personal struggles and love. I was determined to look for the book that would make me the Oprah Winfrey of my generation, a piece that would bring the Pulitzer and Nobel winners alike on their knees. However, in this journey of finding the favorite of all favorites, there is this one book that constantly made its presence felt — physically and psychologically. It was never a part of my choices because this was the book I read when I was 11 years old. My reluctance was based on trying to dodge embarrassment, but as I counted all the reasons why I should not choose this book, it became clearer and clearer as to why it was exactly what I was looking for after all.

An epistolary novel, The Princess Diaries existed in the bookshelves in the year 2000 and was written by Meg Cabot. I plunged into the life of Mia Thermopolis at the beginning of my adolescence. Needless to say, her chronicles of self-loathing and love-hate relationship with royalty was my companion throughout my critical teenage years and even up to the time I reached the big 2-0.

Her rants were just something I could relate to, not to mention her complete lack of self-confidence and self-actualization issues that seemed too familiar to me. And even though I found her daydreams silly, I could not help but find myself in the same clandestinely awkward position at that time of my life. It was written in a very personal way and it was as if the words turned into actions right before your very eyes. It was like listening to someone very dear to you. It was like taking a stroll into the park of reality, of the uncalled for, of the things that were usually hidden in a vault inside our minds. One of the praises for the books said that “it was like reading a note from your best friend” and truthfully, that was what I felt. It was not because I didn’t have any friends — because I do, amazing ones if I might add — it’s just that I believe there’s this thing among bookworms wherein we, at some point in our everyday lives, prefer nothing more than the company of a good book and a hot cup of peppermint tea.

The Princess Diaries did not become a favorite of mine because of the aforementioned reasons. Maybe it would have been if you asked me the same question nine years ago. But thinking about why, despite the many books I have read my entire life, The Princess Diaries was always one of the books I chose to reread especially in times when I just want to blow off some steam and enjoy reading without the Inception-like pressure exerted in my head. And looking back, I guess it was not just about the hormonal humor or the very dreamy image of Michael Moscovitz. You see, even though Princess Mia severely and painfully underestimated herself, she never failed to run away from anything. She tried to but she never did, and she always faced the chaos. No matter how many times she complained about her non-existent breasts, ski-sized feet and being born mathematically challenged, she still chose to trust her gut and press on.

I mean, she could have easily taken the easy route and back out but she didn’t. And it was not only because it was done to make the story sell (of course!), but as I see it, it was a life reminder that at the end of the day, what you have is yourself. Even if you despise your extra weight, or for every time you bake, the pastry ends up looking like the aftermath of the bombing of Hiroshima, it’s still you and it’s a part of who you are. It’s basically a matter of how you see your infirmities, because when the going gets tough, your secret weapon is, and will always be, faith — in yourself and for me, most importantly, in God.

To some, it would have been a silly clueless 14-year-old who clearly makes a hobby out of listing her insecurities. But to me, it was a young woman who was curious rather than clueless, learning rather than struggling and recognizing her physical weaknesses that eventually fuelled the strengths of her character. These realizations came from all those years of growing up and figuring out life. That’s also one of the good indicators of a good book — while the story stays eternally embedded in those pages, the dynamic life of the reader meets every line with a new sense of understanding, which in turn, leads to a new insight.

To illustrate, when I was 11 years old, I read The Princess Diaries because it was fun, I learned a lot of new words and it also encouraged me to keep a journal. Fast-forward nine years after, I still read it because it reminds me that life is really full of inevitabilities and the only way I could deal with it is by facing these and trusting myself enough to go through with it.

In addition to all of these, I appreciated my real life by reading this made-up one. The book mirrored and magnified the wonders of my life, my family and friends and of course, myself. I may not have lived in a Bohemian village in New York, but still, I would not give up who I am and I what I have for the world.

So while my mom warned me years ago that my life will never be like that of Princess Mia, I truly thank her for that fight, because I turned out appreciating the reality of who I am — born with an ultrasensitive skin and still on the verge of getting over her baby fat, but can write just about anything under the sun and also able to bake a killer banana cream pie.