Singapore and the strange feeling of becoming a part of my own dream

Singapore only existed on my screen. I work for Singaporean clients and so it is constantly in the articles I write, in the photos I scroll past, and even sometimes, in other people’s memories. While it occurred to me to visit the place one day, someday, horrors of immigration failures and the thought of being in a foreign land scared me so much that it remained a distant dream. Plus the fact that I have an autoimmune condition because what if my symptoms manifested and I am not home?

That fear ended when my friends booked a trip and transformed my “what if” into a reality.

The version of me I met in Singapore

For the longest time, I thought I had already become too detached from everything around me. My premium friends know perfectly well that I wanted to be nonchalant about life, not because I wanted to be cool and unbothered, but because constantly caring about things felt exhausting. And so I stopped expecting too much. Stopped letting myself become too excited. Convinced myself that it was easier not to care too deeply whether things were good or bad.

But travel has a strange way of introducing you to the versions of yourself you forgot existed. And something changes when you are suddenly placed face to face with a dream you once thought only belonged to other people.

Because in Singapore, I met the version of me that still knew how to feel wonder.

Jewel Changi Airport rewired my brain in ways I did not expect. The indoor waterfall felt surreal. The city lights became something worth staring at. And the long walks? It was the same thing I usually dreaded back home but it suddenly felt rewarding.

For a few days, I stopped worrying about time, deadlines, responsibilities, and whether I would still have enough energy the next day (yes, hello, myasthenia gravis!). I stopped calculating every card tap in my head. And instead, I allowed myself to appreciate something I often forget: this trip was the fruit of my hard work too.

Marina Bay Sands was another kind of wonder entirely. I used to see tourists posing with the Merlion online and quietly thought the famous “open mouth” pose looked ridiculous. But when I finally stood there myself, camera in hand, I understood. It was never really about the pose, but it was about becoming part of the dream you once only watched from afar.

Then there was Gardens by the Bay, which somehow felt both futuristic and peaceful at the same time. And Universal Studios? That place healed something in me through pure chaos.

I fought Megatron in 3D during the Transformers ride. I screamed through Revenge of the Mummy like my soul was genuinely leaving my body. And somehow, those ridiculous, thrilling moments reminded me what joy feels like when you allow yourself to experience things fully instead of watching life from a distance.

Chinatown became another kind of wonder. Bustling streets, murals, Chinese art, steaming bowls of soup, xiao long bao, laksa, fish soup and eventually my newest obsession: bak kut teh.

Some people might see these as small things. But for someone like me, someone who is not particularly privileged and who constantly thinks about health, work, money, and whether my body will cooperate with me tomorrow, this trip felt deeply significant.

Singapore did not solve my problems. But for a few days, it reminded me that life could still feel exciting, beautiful, and full of wonder again.

I fell in love with Singapore, but I’m not sure I want to live there

During the trip, I finally met my boss in person.

The same boss I have been working with remotely for 5 years. The one who drove around to pick me up because I still did not know how the MRT and buses worked. The same boss who once recommended Anta walking shoes to me because I was about to start commuting in Manila and needed something comfortable for long walks (that shoes I wore the entire trip!). The same person who introduced me to bak kut teh, to his wife and kids, and to the reality of how B2B marketing actually works.

And somewhere in the middle of the trip, I caught myself thinking: What if I just stayed here?

Singapore felt light in ways Manila often does not. There was barely any traffic. Transportation was efficient. Everything moved quickly. In just a few minutes, you could go from skyscrapers and city lights to quiet green spaces and forests. For a while, it felt like everything was within reach. Even my dreams.

But back at the hotel, after the excitement settled down, I started thinking about what living there would actually mean. Because Singapore as a tourist and Singapore as a real life are probably two very different things.

In Singapore, there is no adobo waiting for me at home. None of my friends would randomly ask me out for coffee after I disappear into bedrot mode for two weeks. There would be no spontaneous chismisan after church, no familiar routines, no people who already know the softer and messier parts of me.

For someone emotional like me, the idea of transactional living feels unfamiliar. Like, sure, I could dramatically stare at Marina Bay Sands while accidentally seeing shirtless joggers and their illegal amount of abs, but could I really build a life there beyond the temporary magic of being a tourist?

I realized that not every beautiful thing needs to become a permanent thing. And maybe part of growing up is learning the difference between loving a place and being ready to belong to it completely. Because as beautiful as Singapore was, I also know that being an OFW is not easy. There is loneliness inside that kind of bravery too.

What travel reminded me about living

One of my favorite days in Singapore was the day we barely had a plan.

Kim and Stowie, who already knew the city better than we did, had their own events and places to go to. Meanwhile, me, Kesiah, and Aira were left to figure things out on our own.

So we wandered.

We went to Fort Canning Park and patiently waited in line with other tourists just to take photos at the famous staircase. We discovered The Book Cafe, which was admittedly a little too expensive for my wallet, but still somehow felt worth it. The entire day felt slower, lighter and unexpectedly fulfilling.

And that is what I liked most about it.

The trip itself was already planned well, and there is comfort in having direction. But there was something special about the spontaneous parts too, like the moments where we simply allowed ourselves to explore without overthinking every detail.

I think Singapore made that easier because it felt safe. Because the buses were efficient, Google Maps actually made sense, and it felt difficult to truly get lost. Even while exploring unfamiliar places, there was still a quiet sense of control underneath everything.

And life probably works that way too.

Maybe we become more willing to explore when we know there is some kind of safety net waiting for us. Maybe “what if” becomes easier to pursue when fear is not constantly sitting beside us.

Planning is good. Necessary, even. But sometimes the most memorable parts of life happen in the unplanned spaces: the unexpected cafes, random conversations, wrong turns, quiet discoveries, and moments you never could have scheduled for yourself.

Maybe that is also how our worlds slowly become bigger. Not through certainty alone, but through allowing ourselves to wander a little too.

Singapore and the art of wanting to stay a little longer

Like I said earlier, a part of me did not want to go home… yet. Because Singapore still felt unfinished somehow.

For such a small country, it felt like there was still so much left to experience.

I wanted more time for museums and cultural spaces. I wanted to wander into quieter corners beyond the usual tourist spots. Lau Pa Sat gave me good food, but I kept thinking about how much more there probably was beyond the commercialized places: the smaller stalls, hidden street food spots and local favorites tucked somewhere inside Chinatown streets.

I wanted to try more versions of xiao long bao. More coffee shops. More soups. More bowls of laksa and bak kut teh.

I wanted one more slow walk through the city at night. One more bus ride. One more accidental discovery.

I wanted to enter the Buddhist temples and quietly observe the way people lived, prayed, and moved through everyday life.

And that is what probably made leaving feel a little bittersweet. It’s not that I was fully ready to build a life there. It’s just that, I was not done being curious yet.

If there had been a way to stay for one more day, I probably would have taken it immediately.

Not necessarily to escape Manila traffic or responsibilities back home, but simply to enjoy Singapore one more time. One more evening around Marina Bay Sands. One more museum visit. One more ride on Transformers and Revenge of the Mummy like I was trying to heal my inner child through controlled chaos.

I still do not know if I could live in Singapore long-term. But if life offered me one more day there, I don’t think I would say no.

Unexpected lessons from my Singapore trip

One unexpected thing I learned from Singapore is that perhaps, I do not actually hate walking.

Maybe the problem is simply that I am used to walking on uneven roads, random floods, questionable sidewalks and the constant possibility of getting robbed while trying to cross the street back home. Singapore made walking feel light, safe, and strangely enjoyable. The bonus part, of course, was occasionally seeing shirtless joggers around Marina Bay Sands with an unreasonable amount of abs. That probably helped too.

Food also reminded me that it remains both my weakness and one of the best ways I experience joy.

I loved trying unfamiliar dishes and hearing people explain what I was eating. At one point, an uncle enthusiastically explained the fish soup we were having, and somehow that small interaction stayed with me. The cost stopped mattering after a while. What mattered more was the experience of tasting something new, sitting in unfamiliar places and realizing how much culture can exist inside a bowl of soup.

And the bak kut teh? Honestly, it lowkey reminded me of nilagang buto-buto from the Philippines, except Singapore somehow decided to add enough white pepper to spiritually awaken people.

Still, despite everything Singapore offered—the skyline, the food, the efficient transportation, the city lights, and yes, even the distracting Marina Bay joggers—I think the thing I will remember most is the quiet kindness.

The dinners I did not expect to be invited to. Being welcomed by my boss’ family like I belonged there too. Coffee powders and bak kut teh soup packets handed to me before going home. Small gestures that never felt performative, just sincere.

And maybe that is what Singapore became for me in the end. It is not just a beautiful city, but a reminder that life can still surprise me with wonder, warmth, and the kind of moments that make me want to stay a little longer. 😭✨