Feeling lonely in a new city: Joy's first year in Manila

Joy got the offer in January: a junior analyst role at a bank in Makati. Her family in Iloilo celebrated with pancit and a cake from the bakery near their church. Two weeks later she was unpacking in a condo unit in Mandaluyong the size of her old bedroom.

Weekdays were fine. Work kept her busy, and the MRT ate up the rest of the day. Weekends were different. On Saturday mornings she woke up to silence. She ate dinner standing at the counter, watching videos from back home. Her mother called every Sunday. "Ano kinain mo, 'Day?" Joy always said something nicer than the truth.

She told herself it was temporary. Once she got used to the city, things would get better. Months went by and the weekends stayed the same.

At work, everyone already had their people. They went out after shift in barkadas that had formed years before she arrived. Joy smiled in the pantry, said "ingat" at the elevator and went home.

One Saturday in May it hit her. She hadn't said a single word out loud since Friday afternoon. She sat on the floor of her unit and cried, then felt silly for crying. She had the job she wanted. Why did she feel this way?

She hadn't said a single word out loud since Friday afternoon.

Joy had never really been alone before. In Iloilo there was always a tita dropping by, a cousin at the gate, church on Sunday with the same faces since she was a kid. She had never made friends from scratch. They were simply there.

In Manila everything took effort, and loneliness drains the energy that effort needs. After a long week, staying in felt easier than walking into a room full of strangers. Every weekend she stayed in made the next one harder.

She also felt she had no right to complain. She was the one who left, the one with the good job. Saying "I'm lonely" felt like admitting she had failed.

Loneliness changed how she read people, too. A colleague who replied late seemed annoyed with her. A lunch she wasn't invited to felt like proof she didn't belong. Most of it, she found out later, was all in her tired head.

The change started small. A colleague named Rhea mentioned she was from Bacolod. Joy almost let the moment pass. Then she said, "Taga-Iloilo ako! Lunch tayo?" They ate at the food stalls and agreed that nobody in Manila made batchoy right.

Joy made herself a rule: say yes to one thing a week, even when she was tired. A Friday merienda with the team. A run club in BGC that met at 6 a.m. Most weeks it felt awkward. Some weeks it didn't, and those were enough to keep going.

Most weeks it felt awkward. Some weeks it didn't, and those were enough to keep going.

She found a church near her place and went three Sundays in a row before anyone talked to her. On the third Sunday a woman named Ate Cel asked if she wanted to join a small group of young professionals that met on Wednesday nights. Joy went. Six months later it was the night she looked forward to all week.

She made her unit feel like hers. A small plant from Dangwa, a framed photo of her family at the beach in Guimaras, and a rice cooker so she could cook her mother's chicken binakol on Sundays. The smell of home made the silence easier.

She stopped pretending with her mother. On one Sunday call she said, "Ma, nalulungkot ako dito minsan." Her mother didn't panic. She started sending voice messages every morning, little updates about the dog and the neighbor's mango tree. Joy played them on the MRT.

On the hardest nights she read Psalm 46:1. Her lola had written it on the first page of the Bible Joy brought from home.

If you moved for work or school and your weekends are quiet, that loneliness makes sense. You left a whole web of people behind, and a new one takes time to grow.

Pick one small yes this week. A lunch, a class, a church service, a hello to someone from your province. Some will feel awkward, and you only need a few to land.

If the loneliness turns into a low mood that lasts more than two weeks, or it starts to affect your sleep and work, talk to a doctor or counselor. That is a normal next step, and help works.

And for tonight, HopeBegins is free. Pick how you feel and you get one small thing to try today, calming tools, someone to pray for you, and an e-coach you can message on Messenger when the apartment is too quiet. You might also like I feel alone.