Call of Duty

In December 2022, I received an honor that I wasn't sure I deserved – becoming a principal sponsor at a wedding. 

In Filipino culture, being chosen as a principal sponsor carries significant weight. You're expected to be a beacon of light for the married couple, offering wisdom and guidance throughout their journey together. The role demands someone with experience, wisdom, and strong moral character. Someone who can be trusted to provide sound advice when the couple faces challenges in their marriage.

Which is why, when I was asked, I couldn't help but wonder: why me?

The story begins in September 2015, when I first met the bride as a coworker. Over time, we developed a strong professional relationship built on mutual respect and reliability. Even after our paths went our separate ways professionally, we maintained that connection, occasionally collaborating on work-related matters. 

During our time working together, she once mentioned that when she got married, she wanted me to be a principal sponsor. I didn't take it seriously then – knowing myself, I thought it wasn't a good idea.

Seven years later, at the beginning of 2022, she reached out with the formal invitation. I agreed, albeit hesitantly. What followed was an internal struggle that forced me to confront some deep-seated insecurities.

There were aspects of my personal life – things I couldn't reconcile with the role of being someone's moral compass. 

I felt like a fraud. 

The weight of being chosen as a "beacon of light" for their marriage seemed too heavy for someone who didn't feel worthy of such responsibility. I wrestled with the idea of backing out, believing they deserved someone better suited for this role.

I sought advice from my circle of friends, contemplating whether to explain my reservations to the bride. They advised against it, suggesting that my personal circumstances didn't diminish what I could offer as a principal sponsor. 

While their words made sense, the feeling of authenticity nagged at me. I believed the couple deserved to make an informed choice.

Against my friends' advice, I opened up to the bride about my situation and my doubts. 

Her response was unexpected yet profound. "It doesn't matter," she said, explaining that she chose me for who I am, for what I meant to her professionally, and for the person she knew me to be.

That moment was transformative. While not exactly liberating, it was validating. 

Despite my past mistakes and perceived shortcomings, someone saw goodness in me – something I had struggled to see in myself for the longest time. It wasn't just the bride; my friends too had recognized this worth in me. 

The realization that there was something within me worth salvaging brought an unexpected sense of peace.

The wedding day came, and I'm grateful I didn't back out. The experience blessed me with insights I never expected to gain. 

It taught me a valuable lesson about self-perception: while how we see ourselves matters, it's not always aligned with reality. Sometimes, we're trapped in a prison of our own making, seeing ourselves through a distorted lens while others recognize our true worth.

This isn't to say that self-reflection isn't important – it absolutely is. How we see ourselves often reflects in our actions and interactions with others. But sometimes, our minds play tricks on us, convincing us we're less worthy than we actually are. The disconnect between our self-image and how others perceive us can be striking.

I'm not claiming I'm perfect – there's still much work to be done on myself. However, this experience served as validation that I'm on the right path. 

It reminded me that growth is possible, that our past doesn't define our present worth, and that sometimes, we need to trust others' perception of us to see our own light.

In the end, being a principal sponsor wasn't just about being a guide for the newlyweds – it became a mirror that helped me see myself more clearly through the eyes of those who believe in me.