Category: Forty

Not a Mid-Life Crisis

Posted on by alvin

Me at my 40th birthday party on May 16th, 2026. A joke was just made about my being bald. I of course had to rise to my feet to give them a show. Seeing everyone in that room brought me so much happiness.

As of today, May 20th, 2026, I am 40.

In my 30s, the last thing I was thinking about was my death, or the death of anyone I grew up with. We have so much longer to go — and yet here I was faced with the ultimate grim reality that even at this age, death can come for anyone. My sister-in-law had passed from colon cancer, and she was my age.

It set in motion a series of choices I’ve made that on the surface could appear like a mid-life crisis.

I decided I wanted to get muscular, so I started lifting heavy weights and finally tracking my macros. I decided I missed going out to clubs, so I started going out more. I decided I wanted to wear crop tops and go to concert after concert. I started traveling more and more. I started showing up to more events in general. I started reaching out to people I don’t see often enough to reconnect, or at the very least show love.

Conversely, I decided anywhere I don’t want to be but felt obligated to attend, I simply do not have to go. My time is valuable.

My ultimate realization was that time is not infinite, and we always think there will be time to catch up with a loved one, go on vacation, hit up that club, or pick up that dumbbell next week or next month — and then in the blink of an eye, a year passes.

Then another.

The realization that time is finite was something I already knew, but now at 40 it hits harder and with more urgency.

Over the past weekend, I had a bit of an extravagant birthday party (by my standards, anyway). I gathered all the different groups of people in my life into one room — something that was taken away from me during my pandemic wedding.

Honestly, I wish I could have had double the space because there were so many others I wanted in that room.

Every person I had a moment to pause with, I leaned in or grabbed their shoulders, looked them dead in the eye, and said something meaningful.

Floros, while great people, are not always the best at expressing what we feel. As I age, I realize how important that is.

At 40, I understand the concept of a mid-life crisis differently. Television and movies usually position it as something negative, or as a source of comedy. But I see it from another lens.

If others turning 40 are anything like me, maybe they are lifting those weights, taking those vacations, buying the concert tickets, or reconnecting with old friends because they suddenly realize time has gone by much faster than they thought.

Maybe a mid-life crisis isn’t always a crisis at all.

Maybe sometimes it’s simply someone realizing their life is precious.

So now that I’ve arrived at 40, with my health intact and a stable job, I will continue living life to the absolute fullest and continue chasing all the things on my checklist because like you, I have one life to live.

Me thanking everyone for attending. Of course I had an outfit change. I shared my thoughts on time and not waiting to tell people what you feel.

Five Legged Dinosaurs

Posted on by alvin

Me and one of the most memorable campers I worked with at Camp Galileo. I forget the year here but it was quite a while ago – this has to be 2008 or 2009.

When I was working at Camp Galileo in my early 20s, we were making paper mache dinosaurs. This kid with a haircut that looked like it had its own personality was making a brontosaurus with 5 legs or something in addition to the tail, and I had asked why he gave it 5 legs. Without missing a beat, he had a whole explanation for why the brontosaurus needed 5 legs.

There is something to be said about kids and authenticity when they are younger than 5. In many ways, they are their full, authentic self. They like what they like. As they age, they start becoming influenced by peers, the media, family and friends. They gravitate toward things that are socially acceptable because it means less conflict. It is an easier path. They will fit in.

One of my favorite students over the years was such a great example of this. In his case, it all happened a little later though. When he walked into my room freshman year, it was hard to miss him. Bright accessories, bold fashion choices — you name it. His personality was just as loud as his fashion choices. I remember him being extremely talented and intelligent as well. He was fearless.

Years later, I had the chance to work with him again. By this point, he was completely different. The bold fashion choices were gone. In its place, more typical teenager attire. A much calmer personality. Still as talented as ever, and dare I say commanded school. He was helpful, but more often than not, he’d talk to me about what was going on in his personal life. It sounded all too familiar.

I challenged him one day.

“What caused this dramatic shift from freshman year to now?” I asked.

“I just grew up.”

If that was his truth in that moment, I wasn’t going to challenge it. In another conversation we were discussing his freshman self and I shared that he was fearless and so popular. He said in spite of that, he would still get made fun of a lot, especially in the locker room. Those kinds of things are the things that unfortunately shape us. They certainly shaped me.

There was a moment during my pandemic wedding where I was on the receiving end of two scathing messages saying my wedding was against everything God teaches. And no, the messages were not delivered that way. They were worse, obviously.

I was hurt. I still am hurt by it, but I have since moved forward. What made it sting was that up until that moment, I felt like I was finally being myself and was surrounded by people who were on the same page. So to find out that some people in your own network still weren’t, to this day, was very painful.

It took me back to a vulnerable place in my youth where I felt I couldn’t be who I wanted to be and tried to project another version of myself to assimilate easier.

People these days when they meet me, or see me on social media or in person, assume that I have always been outgoing. That was not always the case. It took a lot of life experiences to get me to where I am now, which is unapologetically me… my full authentic self.

People are welcome to be part of the ride, or they can opt out because at the end of the day, I will continue being me.

I think that little kid making the five-legged dinosaur had it figured out before the rest of us did. He wasn’t worried whether it made sense to anyone else. He liked it, so he made it.

Somewhere along the way, many of us lose that. Maybe adulthood is less about growing up and more about finding our way back.

The Happy Medium

Posted on by alvin

Me and some of my female cousins watching Ali Wong’s comedy show in 2024. Good times.

Finding time for yourself is so important.

I’ve found that I am ultimately a people pleaser. I hate the feeling that I let people down. I also don’t like the perception that I am not doing a good job at work.

While I am not perfect, I always feel like I give everything I’ve got — or at the very least, everything I have in that moment.

On one hand, that can make you look good. On the other hand, it is a surefire way to burn out.

Over the last three years, I think I’ve found more of a happy medium between working hard, but also resting hard and enjoying life hard too.

I made sure that instead of coaching five times a week, maybe I coach twice a week. On the weekends, maybe I’ll catch a movie or take myself out to lunch. If I’m feeling energetic, maybe I’ll go out dancing or see a concert.

I’ve also made it a point to travel more with Jey and with friends. It’s okay to say I deserve it.

I’ve found time to take care of my body in different ways too — adopting a skincare routine, lifting heavy weights, running around. I still think I could do more in terms of recovery though — massages and things like that.

A lot of adults in my network tell me they’re burned out. I totally get it.

Even with the time I intentionally make for myself, I still feel that way sometimes.

I always need the reminder that if I have only one hour to spare in the day, I’m going to do something that makes me happy.

And that one hour, even if it doesn’t seem like much, can make all the difference.

My first (probably last lol) Spartan race with some of the Crunchies. All the young kids made me want to try harder. I was able to pass all the obstacles except two! I was proud of myself.

Man’s Best Friend

Posted on by alvin

Me and my baby Archie in 2021.

The kind of connection a human has with their pet dog is one of the most unique experiences I wish everyone could have.

My family has always had a dog in the household — all of them family dogs. Of all our dogs growing up, I had the biggest connection with Chai, our light gray Chihuahua. She lived a nice long life.

I also loved my sister’s dog, Pancake, a large, chubby Labrador Retriever.

Pancake and I had a special rapport.

When I started teaching at Overfelt, I was still living at home to save as much money as I could. My sister was also living at home at the time. On weekdays, I would usually get home first, and Pancake and I would have several hours every day to ourselves.

She usually wasn’t allowed in my room because she shed so much, and she knew that. So she would sit outside my door staring at me, waiting for the command that she could come inside.

Often, she would throw toys into my room like little projectiles in the hopes that it would get my attention and I’d let her come in and play.

One day I came home and there was an empty bucket of KFC on the floor. Pancake was walking around and I looked at her and said, “Bad girl!” because I assumed she had eaten the chicken.

As I walked into my room, I realized I had accidentally left the door open that day.

I sat down on the couch in my room to watch TV and noticed there was a piece of chicken hidden in the seat cushion. Pancake was standing at the doorway staring at me with this look of innocence and guilt on her face.

Later that evening, as I was getting ready for bed, I put my hand under my pillow and there was another piece of chicken there.

I realized Pancake had hidden pieces of chicken all throughout my room so she could come back and eat them later.

What a smart dog.

Many years later, when Jey and I bought our house during the pandemic, Athena and Kevin were going on vacation and asked if I could watch Pancake at our house.

Jey was notoriously anti-dog, but he gave me the okay, and so we had the honor of babysitting her.

By then, Pancake was much older and had cancer. She was still sweet as ever — just slower.

On the day she was supposed to be picked up, she had a big accident because she couldn’t hold her poop anymore. I cleaned everything up and Athena picked her up shortly after.

Pancake passed away the following weekend.

We were devastated, of course.

It was around that time that I finally convinced Jey to get our own dog. I had always wanted a corgi, so I found a breeder in Sacramento.

Archie was the lucky puppy to become a Floro.

Jey immediately became obsessed.

Suddenly I was demoted from his iPhone wallpaper and Archie replaced me. I don’t blame him. Archie is pretty sweet too.

He is friendly, goofy, a total scaredy-cat, and incredibly loyal.

I just know Archie and Pancake would have been BFFs.

I was doing yoga one day through Apple Fitness and during the reflection meditation at the end, the coach asked us to think about someone who loves us unconditionally.

I think most people’s minds would immediately go to a spouse, parent, or family member.

Mine immediately went to Archie.

Unless you have owned a dog, it is difficult to explain the kind of relationship people have with them.

They have feelings. They have incredible memories. They form attachments. They remember people and places.

And more importantly, they love you just as much as you love them.

Nothing I could do or say would make Archie love me any less.

To him, I am his entire world.

And maybe that is the closest thing to unconditional love there is.

True love, right here.

Me and my baby Chai at Glen Dundee. She was very territorial and didn’t like guests coming into HER home. But I swear, she was the sweetest to me.

Unexpected Blessings

Posted on by alvin

Ouchii masks during the pandemic.

This blog was actually birthed during the pandemic. What a wild time. If you click around or scroll back, you’ll see at least four posts where I recapped a lot of current events that were going on during that time. When life resumed, I kind of fell off from blogging regularly. Shocking, I know.

In 2019, I was actually really stressed and spread thin. I was trying to figure out what to do with Ouchii’s various locations as I felt the stress of keeping them up and running was wiping me out. Continually releasing new merchandise while also designing and being creative was exhausting. It started to not feel fun anymore.

The fact that I was also teaching full time at Silver Creek was brutal.

I was physically a stick at the time as I was coaching 12 Zumba classes a week all across the Bay Area.

So when the pandemic hit, it literally forced me to stop.

One of my worst traits is spreading myself thin and trying hard not to disappoint people. So when I was on that high-speed train, there was no stopping it if I had my way. The pandemic gave me no choice.

School thankfully went virtual, so I was still employed. But now, since it was distance learning and all my side gigs had paused, I suddenly had all the time in the world to do things I had been putting off, and little by little, a lot of unexpected things started falling into place.

For the longest time I kept this to myself because I knew a lot of folks were struggling, but enough time has passed now that I think I can share.

During the pandemic:

• My cousins and I actually became closer through Zoom calls and new text threads.
• Jey and I got married.
• Ouchii unexpectedly took off because of the masks I designed.
• I started Ouchii Fitness online to help people stay in shape, which paid me more than any gym ever had.
• I bought a new car.
• Jey and I bought our first house.
• I got my baby boy corgi Archie.
• I got certifications to become a personal trainer and group fitness coach.
• I got promoted at Crunch and became a group fitness manager for the first time.

Each of those bullet points deserves a blog post all on its own, and maybe in due time they’ll get one.

But as I reflect on the pandemic — something that was inherently awful and scary — it is wild to me that all those blessings found their way into my life.

I’d like to think some of that was due to a higher power, but I also have to give myself some credit too. I’ve always been a hustler, and for once I finally had time to sit still and focus that energy.

So with that, I have two takeaways from the pandemic:

  1. Blessings can come at the most unexpected times.
  2. Sometimes life forces you to stop because you were never going to stop on your own.

And sometimes, when everything goes quiet, you finally hear where you were supposed to go next.

Ouchii Fitness online classes.

A pandemic wedding with a 1/4 of the guests. And no, we were not supposed to be indoors and we were supposed to have masks on during this specific window of time.

Zumba? Pft… Yeah, Right!

Posted on by alvin

My first Zumba classes were at Fitness19, then Right Stuff in Campbell.

For a good chunk of my 20s, I was able to keep off all the weight I had put on from senior year in high school through my early college years. I did this through maintenance and casual cardio at the gym.

I always enjoyed going to bars and clubs with my friends and dancing. Zumba came into my life at a time when all my lady friends were having babies and we weren’t going out nearly as much anymore. Hanging out shifted from dancing until 2 AM to watching Twilight and reality TV at their houses while they tended to their kids.

One day Jey and I were at the gym together — which honestly was a rare thing. We always get on each other’s nerves when we work out together.

Jey wanted to go into a Zumba class.

Meanwhile, I was on the elliptical and took one look through the glass windows, saw all the women — at least a decade, maybe two decades older than me — dancing around and immediately thought:

Hell no.

Jey insisted, so I went in.

Of course I was lost and completely uncoordinated. There seemed to be a sequence and flow to everything and everyone somehow knew what was happening except me. Jey seemed to be enjoying himself.

I was fully prepared to walk right back out.

But Joyce, the instructor, made it a point to walk over to me mid-class during a moment when she knew everyone had a grip on the choreography and danced alongside me to make me feel welcome.

That small interaction was enough to convince me to come back the following week.

Eventually Jey fell off and then it was just me showing up every week, arriving early to fight for that damn spot.

I went from being shy in the back of the room to becoming a little Zumba diva in the front row.

Through Zumba, I was able to get the dancing bug out of my system that would normally be filled with late nights out while simultaneously staying in shape.

I became hooked.

That eventually led me down the path of becoming an instructor myself. I originally said I’d do it casually or maybe just sub for Joyce and Lilia here and there.

But inevitably, the bug bit me and I wanted my own class.

First came Fitness 19 (then Right Stuff). Then City Sports. Then Milpitas Sports Center and Villa Sport. Then Crunch. Then 24 Hour Fitness. Then 49erFit — before the pandemic put a screeching halt to all of that.

When the pandemic hit, many of my students followed me online and we got through that strange period together through regular Zoom classes.

Through Zumba, I was reminded yet again that change can be a really good thing.

Fear of other people’s opinions can stop you from making some incredible decisions or experiencing some amazing moments if you simply stay open-minded.

More importantly, I learned that fitness did not have to feel like punishment.

And while my goals in fitness look a little different today than they did back then, I can say without hesitation that if I had never walked through those double doors to dance with Joyce and her class, I would not be the fitness professional I am today.

My City Sports Sunday 8:30AM class was easily one of my favorites (if not favorite). They were crazy.

Honorable mention to 24 Hour Fitness on Friday nights. These were the party animals.

MSC was all my favorite titas. They were always so thoughtful – especially Ms. Vanjie.

Can’t forget Crunch.

Countdown to 40: The “Ouchii” Guy

Posted on by alvin

The Ouchii Boutique when we were under construction. I believe this was 2015.

The best part about being an art teacher is seeing students’ creativity. I am constantly inspired by the talent that comes out of them, which in many ways makes me want to create too.

When I moved to Calero High School, that became my biggest struggle.

The kids themselves were great. However, many of the students there were attending because they were struggling to find success at their home schools for a multitude of reasons. Calero’s mission was to help those students recover credits and get back on track to graduate on time.

For many of them, I became their favorite teacher. I was the one they could talk to. I was the one who could help them focus a little more. While that felt meaningful, so much time was spent supporting students emotionally and behaviorally that very little art was actually being created.

And while I knew I was making a positive impact, the core component of what I loved most about being an art teacher was missing.

I needed a creative outlet.

So I started Ouchii.

The vision was simple and filled a void I felt wasn’t being met at the time: cute, childlike “kawaii” characters on adult-sized tees and lifestyle items. As a kid, I loved Sanrio. As an adult, I still loved it and couldn’t understand why nobody was really making stylish apparel for the adult audience that grew up with it.

So I struck while the iron was hot.

I created my own characters, and with the help of my brother, we got them printed.

Because of my student loan debt and low starting teacher salary, I was terrified of taking a huge financial risk. So I decided to start small.

I booked a table at the monthly De Anza Flea Market. The cost was $35. I figured if I made the money back, I wouldn’t feel too bad about trying.

The Ouchii Great Mall Pop Up. This is where we reached some of our biggest numbers. What a time.

That day, I made $700.

The feeling of selling your art like that was something I had never experienced before.

Eventually, I got a little braver. SJMade gave me an opportunity to participate in a month-long summer pop-up at the mall. Perfect. As a teacher, I was off during the summer anyway. I figured I could test it out for a month.

The cost was $1,500.

I was pretty confident I could at least recoup that amount.

That month, I made nearly $17,000.

I was elated.

From there, things escalated quickly. I negotiated my own leases and built out the first official pop-up boutique at Great Mall. Then came a second location at Westfield Valley Fair. Eventually, I opened a full brick-and-mortar boutique in Milpitas.

The Ouchii Valley Fair pop up boutique under construction.

At its peak, Ouchii employed anywhere from 8–12 people depending on the season. Every dollar I made went straight back into the business.

But eventually, the burnout hit.

I was still teaching full time while simultaneously trying to manage this growing business. It became overwhelming.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had been afforded the luxury to step away from teaching temporarily and fully commit to growing Ouchii with investors or a business partner. Ultimately, I am a creative person first. I am not naturally a business person. I needed someone strong on that side of things.

And then… the pandemic happened.

Thankfully, I had already made the difficult decision to close the physical locations and focus primarily on online sales while trying to reclaim some much-needed time for myself.

Talk about timing.

Had we remained open during the pandemic, it honestly could have financially ruined me. The malls were incredibly difficult to navigate during that time, and many small businesses were devastated.

I am forever thankful for the Ouchii journey. This was the closest I ever felt to being a working artist in my life.

Over a five-year span at its peak, we sold well over a million dollars in Ouchii product. Seeing my characters printed on shirts, hats, sunglasses, stickers — all of it — was surreal. Even crazier was seeing people wear my designs all across the country. Tourists would buy things at the shop and take them back home, which slowly created customers everywhere. I’d receive photos from people wearing Ouchii in Hawaii, Texas, New York, Washington and, of course, all across California.

One moment I’ll never forget was at the airport in Las Vegas. A TSA agent recognized me as “the Ouchii Guy,” opened a new line for me and told me he loved my shirts. My sister was with me and immediately rolled her eyes because she knew I would never let that moment go.

And honestly? She was right.

That is how I got the nickname “the Ouchii Guy.” People would constantly approach me and ask if I was that Ouchii guy. What started as a small creative outlet during a difficult time in my teaching career slowly became a huge part of my identity.

Even now, long after the stores closed, Ouchii still feels like proof to myself that I really did create something meaningful.

Not bad for a kid who just liked cute stickers and Sanrio.

Shout out to my Ouchii team of kids. Man, these kids (now adults) really helped me steer this ship. Eternally grateful. I made sure they were taken care of and paid well.

Getting out there and doing street events was always on going.

Countdown to 40: Love, Actually.

Posted on by alvin

Jey and I at the airport en route to Arnold and Thuy’s wedding… I think in 2013-2014?

Jey came into my life at an interesting time.

In my early 20s, after I had lost all the weight, I was busy trying to find a partner. This newfound confidence after losing weight suddenly brought several prospects into my life. Of course, almost all of them would inevitably fizzle out within a few weeks at best. Most of the guys who showed interest were around my age or a little younger.

While finishing up my credential program, I started dating a really nice guy who was older. He was 31, which at the time felt way older to me. It was refreshing. He was mature, well-traveled, handsome, and studying for the bar exam. We dated casually for about a year.

Ultimately, things fell apart because I felt the gap between us was just too wide. I was barely entering the workforce and couldn’t really afford the lifestyle he already had established for himself. Meanwhile, he was preparing to move to Los Angeles and begin his next chapter. I remember us both crying at the realization that it just wasn’t going to work.

After sitting with that for a while, I decided I was going to approach dating more casually, kind of like my friend Marlon did. Just have fun and see where things go. No need to lock things down immediately like a lot of my straight friends were doing.

…And then, of course, I met Jey.

On paper, he honestly was not my “type,” but I figured I should at least give it a couple of dates.

When we first met, I actually wasn’t feeling his vibe at all. We grabbed sushi, then followed up with a few more dates. At one point, we even took a trip to Miami together.

Let me tell you — some of those early arguments were intense.

At one point during that Miami trip, I told him that once we got back to the Bay Area, we were done. Growing up, I thought I had a temper because of all the personal things I had gone through in my youth. Jey, when pushed, made me look calm.

By then, I was already working during my first year at Overfelt High School. He would constantly blow up my phone asking for another chance. When I’d say “never,” he’d come up with random excuses to see me again. He’d say I still had some of his stuff and he wanted it back. I’d tell him I’d leave it outside the door. He’d say no because it might get stolen. He was determined to see me again.

He simply was not going to give up.

At some point, I finally caved and gave him another chance. Despite all the ways we didn’t seem to work on paper, the one thing he had going for him in my eyes was persistence. He fought for me in a way no one else ever really had before.

He also makes me laugh constantly.

And honestly, that’s probably the real secret to our relationship.

Through all the ups and downs we’ve had over the years, there have been far more highs than lows. Where I lack, he fills in the gaps. And as we’ve gotten older, I still see him actively trying to grow and make changes when he hurts or upsets me. Those things never go unnoticed by me.

I realized then — and even more so now — that if you walk around with an endless checklist of what your “perfect” spouse is supposed to be, you may spend your entire life searching for someone who doesn’t exist.

While Jey may not have checked every superficial box I thought I wanted at the time, he checked the ones that ultimately mattered the most.

The biggest one being this:

No matter what happens, he has my back.

Me and Jey in Barcelona, Spain in July 2025. One of our favorite vacations.

Countdown to 40: Teacher in Progress

Posted on by alvin

Me with some of my favorite co-workers of all time. Overfelt Prom – I forget which year. Maybe 2011.

My going into teaching was kind of a no-brainer.

High school taught me that I actually have great people skills and am highly adaptable. I also learned that I was good at art and a pretty good leader. College taught me that I was a hard worker, but also that I genuinely enjoyed being around people and did not like the idea of desk work in a cubicle all day.

Being an art teacher allowed me to combine all of that while hopefully making some kind of impact on kids’ lives.

During my teaching credential program at National University, I was told that I would likely struggle to find a job because the state was going through severe budget cuts. When they found out I was also going to be an art teacher, they basically said, “Oh… then multiply that times two.”

I actually got really lucky.

As luck would have it, my high school art teacher had gotten pregnant and decided to relocate to New York at the end of the school year. The current principal also happened to be my former leadership teacher. Everything kind of just fell into place for me.

When I started teaching at Overfelt High School, I genuinely thought I was going to retire there. I was 100% all in. I advised a ton of clubs, sat in leadership meetings, became department chair… I fully immersed myself into the school community.

After wrapping up year three, I was preparing for year four when I was presented with an opportunity at Calero High School to help launch the school. I would get the opportunity to order the furniture and help build the art program from scratch. I remember going back and forth trying to decide what to do.

Overfelt felt comfortable and safe. I loved the students. I loved the staff. Simultaneously, I didn’t want to live life with regrets. I had graduated from there and immediately returned to work there right after college. No “what ifs.” I had one week to decide.

And then I decided.

I was going to leave.

I felt guilty about it for a long time.

Ultimately, Calero High School ended up not being the right fit for me, and after a short year there, I found myself at Silver Creek High School for over a decade. I am now currently at Piedmont Hills High School.

Some of my favorite students to have ever walked into my classroom at Silver Creek. It’s hard to remember names of every single student, but I definitely remember these three. Lily, Jacklyn and Rose. This photo was taken a year or two after gradation and they came to visit.

My biggest takeaway from all of this is that I can’t sit too comfortably for too long.

While things did not work out the way I imagined at Calero, they ultimately worked out wonderfully at Silver Creek. Ironically, my unhappiness during that time also pushed me to launch a side business called Ouchii, which later shaped a huge part of my identity for over a decade.

I remember talking to a wise coworker at Overfelt while trying to decide whether I should leave. We weren’t even particularly close, which is honestly why I reached out to him specifically. I wanted unbiased advice.

I asked him what he thought the right thing to do was, and he said something that has stuck with me ever since:

“If you are staying because you think the kids need you or the school needs you, that is not a good enough reason to stay. No matter where you go, kids will need you and the school will benefit from having you.”

He was right.

And now here I am wrapping up year 15, currently at Piedmont Hills High School.

While I am still finding my footing and adjusting, I am happy to report that I am still doing what I do best — helping kids develop their art skills while also being a safe adult they can talk to while navigating the craziness that is high school.

I can never get enough of these letters. And these always seem to come at the times I need them the most.

Countdown to 40: The New Jan Brady – Middle Child Syndrome is Real

Posted on by alvin

Me and the lovely Normita Floro during her 70th birthday last year, July 2025. My sister threw the nicest party for her. I almost cried, as I do when I talk about mom or family.

When I graduated college, it was kind of uneventful. I wasn’t close to anyone in my graduating class. Because I was always running back to San Jose on the weekends and working all week, I didn’t really explore the city and make the kind of friends I thought I would. In fact, that is one of my regrets about my time in college — I was in one of the coolest cities in the world, and I didn’t bother to really live it up and immerse myself in it.

The ceremony itself was just as uneventful. I didn’t even really want to go. By then, I was already back in school going for my teaching credential, and the lack of connection I felt to the program and my peers certainly did not help. But of course, it’s one of those lifetime achievements that possibly only happens once, and I knew it would be important to my parents, so I did it.

At my graduation lunch, it was my parents, one of my dad’s aunts, and my mom’s sister in law. None of my uncles or aunts came, no cousins, no friends… nothing. We went to a Filipino restaurant I no longer remember. I remember thinking the lunch was oddly appropriate considering how I felt about the graduation in general.

When my brother AJ graduated middle school — phat party. When he graduated college — phat party. His birthdays… always the same case. My sister… same thing.

In elementary school I didn’t notice it much. As I got to middle school, I noticed. My middle school graduation was hardly attended. Same for my high school graduation and the dinner I got. Yes, I got a small dinner “only.” I also remember not even being able to order what I wanted. I shook it off.

Growing up, my parents also supported my siblings financially in various ways when they needed help. I never really got that growing up. Again, not something that went unnoticed by me.

At some point during late high school and into college, I started bringing it up, and my parents were always defensive about it… saying it wasn’t true and that it was all in my head.

“Sure, Jan” – from the brilliant Brady Bunch 90s parody film. Went this went viral a few years ago to send people whose stories you doubted, I died.

When my sister was having her phat cotillion, I was tasked with a lot of the graphic design work, including the programs and notably, the slideshow. I was doing everything nicely and with taste, of course. By then, I was already working, and one day I came home from work while my mom was stressed out with all the planning. She asked me about the slideshow and I said I wasn’t done yet, and she blew a gasket. I raised my voice and said I was working on it, and she replied with, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a cotillion.”

That one definitely stung.

Again, I shook it off.

At some point in my early 20s, I just stopped bringing it up. I’ll say it was a result of growing up and moving on. I was an adult now anyway, and had my own things to worry about — namely hustling for cash to fight the predatory student loans.

My mom and I were (are actually) really close. While I was working at Overfelt High School, I’d stop by the house for lunch with her from time to time. Sitting around the table one day eating good Filipino food, my mom suddenly started crying.

She said after thinking about it for the longest time, she realized my perception of things was actually correct.

She explained, however, that the lack of attention or financial assistance was never intentional. She shared that in many cases, it simply appeared my siblings needed more immediate help or attention while I always seemed okay. She also explained that whenever it was my turn for some major milestone or event, they’d suddenly be in a financial bind — maybe someone lost a job, or something in the house needed fixing.

She also brought up that she had no idea why less people attended my birthdays, but admitted it was very noticeable.

To that point, I’ve come to realize May is honestly just a busy month. Aside from sharing it with a ton of other birthdays, it’s also graduation season and a big travel month.

Similarly to my dad in my last blog, that acknowledgement from my mom was all I needed. I never brought it up again. I believed her.

In a lot of ways, I believe I am secretly my mom’s favorite. Not favorite in the sense that she loves me more than my siblings — I think we are all equal in that regard. I mean favorite in the sense that I genuinely think she enjoys talking to me the most.

I am with Jan Brady on this one — middle child syndrome absolutely exists.

And I also think that, in many cases, similarly to my own, parents are not always aware of it. In all the excitement of celebrating the firstborn, by the time the second child rolls around, it can become a bit of a “been there, done that” situation. Maybe a slightly less flashy first birthday party this time around. Maybe a hand-me-down.

Whatever the case, open lines of communication about needs are important. I also wish I had been a little more proactive in expressing mine because, for all I know, maybe they would have paid more attention.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. My mom rode in my car as we drove to Westfield Valley Fair after lunch with the family so we could pick out a nice dress for her to wear to my birthday. We had a really nice conversation, just like we used to in my early 20s.

Being able to talk to her freely and openly about all things now is one of the best feelings in the world.

This version of Jan Brady lives rent free in my head. She was the most hilarious character in those 90s films. Shout out to all the Jan Brady’s.