The Filipino American Woman Project

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:Which memories define you, or don’t define you anymore?This letter is for anyone who simply wants to feel safe, secure, and stable in her friendships.Through a flashback sparked by a new friend around a bonfire, the writer recalls a time when she was bullied, labeled “lesser than,” and ambushed by a group of girls who she thought were her people.If you ever struggled to defend yourself for something you didn’t do, this one’s for you.Join us for our FINAL Family Potluck: Vision Board Workshop this Monday, December 22nd! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:How do you communicate with your family versus in the workplace?This letter is for anyone who grew up in a home where tsismis (a.k.a. gossip) was connection, love, and entertainment, only to discover how it lands differently in the workplace.The writer examines the differences between indirect communication at home and direct communication at work, and how a well-meaning effort to bond with colleagues nearly cost her her job.If you ever felt torn between how you communicate at home versus at work, this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:Are you going home for the holidays—or are you already home?This letter is for anyone tired of being asked if they’re going home to their blood family and relatives for the holidays.Through faith, conviction, and clarity, the writer shares why she’s choosing not to return to her family this year. She reflects on how familial and cultural expectations justified years of abuse, how she made an idol out of family, and what ‘going home’ means to her today.If you’ve ever said, “But they’re family…” just to survive the holidays—this letter is for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

Welcome to TFAW Letters — The Holiday Edition by the Filipino American Woman Project 🎁I’m your host, Jen Amos. Just like the FAHM edition, I will read fictionalized letters — my creative interpretation of real conversations with you!These letters have been woven with heart, reflection, and truth to honor your stories while protecting your privacy. It all begins with one line, “If I could say one thing.” RSVP for the Upcoming Family Potluck — NOV 21st! Click HERE. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:What is one small, beautiful thing you can notice and be grateful for in this very moment?In recognition of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, this message is for anyone facing loss, uncertainty, or chronic illness—and for those who have supported a loved one through it.Through tender recognition and reflective gratitude, the writer explores what it means to redefine joy, choose life, and live one day at a time.Whether confronting the limitations of the body, the dissatisfaction of fame, or the weight of living in the diaspora and homesickness, this letter honors the quiet resilience it takes to keep going.If you’ve ever delayed a goodbye, wished you had more time, or found strength in small moments, this one’s for you.This concludes Filipino American History Month 💙❤️💛Thanks for listening! We hope to read your letter in the upcoming season.Stay tuned for TFAW Letters: Holiday Edition! 🎊Got any plans for Friday, November 21st?Whether you’re a new or long-time listener of TFAW Project, you are invited to our Family Potluck — a FREE networking event thanks to our TFAW PenPals & First Readers.What to ExpectThink of a professional networking event, but with casual, easy-going Filipino family potluck vibes.Our tentative agenda:* Icebreaker: What memory comes to mind when you hear “family potluck?”* Introductions: * How long have you been listening to the show? * Would you like to share anything? (i.e., Promote your business, share the latest book you’ve read, updates on your vision board, a mental health check-in, or just hang out!)* Socializing: Candid conversations for the remainder of the time.Open to the Community!Please select ALL times on Friday, November 21st that work best for you, and we’ll go with the majority vote! Please ONLY vote if you plan to attend, so that I can include you in the calendar invite. 💛💛 JenP.S. First-time attendees of TFAW Project events will receive a special gift. 🎁Questions? Contact Jen: jen@tfawproject.com This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:Who’s driving your story today?This letter is for the quiet, faithful listeners who never thought to share their story—until one letter changes everything.On her usual commute to work, a flashback surfaced—one that reminds the writer why she rarely speaks freely. The memory takes place in the backseat of a family van, when a cousin told her to shut up… and no one said anything.Now, decades later, with her hands on the wheel and her favorite podcast playing, she realizes something has changed:She’s the one driving. And she has something to say.If you’ve ever kept your thoughts to yourself because you were afraid of being reprimanded, this one’s for you.If you’re searching for resources on Filipino American history, then you are invited to join our FAHM Challenge! 💌For October, upgrade your subscription to TFAW PenPals — for FREE — to participate in our 31-Day Challenge to collect, share, and discuss Filipino American History resources with our online community.Already a Free Subscriber?Scroll down to the bottom of our latest email and select “Get Free Upgrade Now.”Note to first-time subscribersIf you don’t receive a welcome email, please check your SPAM folder and save tfawletters@substack.com as a trusted contact.Already a TFAW PenPal?Join the Challenge now by clicking HERE. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:How are you contributing to Filipino American History today?This letter is for anyone who has ever felt lost in the search for cultural belonging—especially during Filipino American History Month.Jen begins with a candid reading of her letter, as if she’s speaking directly to our First Readers. She contemplates the difference between longing for lost history and honoring the living history already around us. Whether acknowledging passive observation, caretakers we take for granted, or having empathy for the movers and shakers of our Filipino community today, this letter offers an invitation to get involved.If you’ve ever romanticized your search for identity, overlooked those already preserving our stories, or waited too long to show appreciation, this one’s for you.If you’re searching for resources on Filipino American history, then you are invited to join our FAHM Challenge! 💌For October, upgrade your subscription to TFAW PenPals — for FREE — to participate in our 31-Day Challenge to collect, share, and discuss Filipino American History resources with our online community.Already a Free Subscriber?Scroll down to the bottom of our latest email and select “Get Free Upgrade Now.”Note to first-time subscribersIf you don’t receive a welcome email, please check your SPAM folder and save tfawletters@substack.com as a trusted contact.Already a TFAW PenPal? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

Welcome to TFAW Letters — the Filipino American History Month edition by the Filipino American Woman Project 💙❤️💛I’m your host, Jen Amos. Just like our summer series, I will read fictionalized letters — my creative interpretation of real conversations with you!These letters have been woven with heart, reflection, and truth to honor your stories while protecting your privacy. It all begins with one line, “If I could say one thing.” …because sometimes one thing is all we need to take up a little more space.Let’s get started.If you’re searching for resources on Filipino American history, then you are invited to join our FAHM Challenge! 💌For October, upgrade your subscription to TFAW PenPals — for FREE — to participate in our 31-Day Challenge to collect, share, and discuss Filipino American History resources with our online community.Already a Free Subscriber?Scroll down to the bottom of our latest email and select “Get Free Upgrade Now.”Note to first-time subscribersIf you don’t receive a welcome email, please check your SPAM folder and save tfawletters@substack.com as a trusted contact.Already a TFAW PenPal? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:What do the clothes you wear and conversations you have today say about the community you've built — or hope to build?This letter is for anyone who’s ever tried to blend in—only to realize how it only makes you feel lonelier.To wrap up the Summer Series, Jen reflects on her evolving identity as a Filipino American woman—tracing her journey from childhood birthdays filled with vibrant love, to the muted grief of losing a built-in community, to rediscovering color, voice, and belonging on her own terms.If you’ve ever wondered what you had to change to be accepted, tried on different versions of yourself to fit in, or walked away from a place where you felt “othered”… This one’s for you.This concludes our Summer Series. ☀️Thank you for listening, and stay tuned for Filipino American History Month! 💙❤️💛 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:Whose voice shaped your definition of success—and does it still hold true?This letter is for anyone who has ever felt like their career choices were never enough.Through much clarity, the writer explores what it means to break free from a parent’s version of stability—and instead build a life aligned with purpose, not predictability. Whether confronting generational expectations or making peace with a mother who may never understand, this letter offers a moment of quiet self-trust.If you’ve ever heard your parents’ voice in your head when you’re trying to make a decision, or struggled to explain your unconventional path to someone who just doesn’t get it—this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:What are you still allowing that you now have the power to change?This letter is for anyone who’s ever witnessed someone they love live small in order to survive.The writer speaks to her cousins, trying to help them see the impact of a domineering father. Though now adults with careers, they still live under his roof: polite, submissive, and living like NPCs. The writer reflects on how her own journey of independence has made her more aware of what her cousins never had.Whether you’ve been the one watching from the outside or the one still inside the house, this letter shines a light on what’s unspoken in some Filipino families: the cost of obedience, the price of silence, and the risk of choosing yourself. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:If someone from your past reached out today, what would you say to them?This letter is for anyone who got busy with life and unknowingly let a friendship fade—and wondered if it’s too late to say something now.The writer reflects on a once-assumed bond that slipped away with time, distance, and neglect. Whether you've been the one who never reached out—or the one who replied with caution—this letter holds space for regret, gratitude, and the courage to acknowledge love that didn’t get closure.If you’ve ever looked up an old friend, hovered over the “send message” button, or realized mistakes that only come in hindsight—this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this: What have you held onto not because it’s easy, but because it still matters to you in a way that you can’t explain?This letter is for anyone who’s ever wondered if they’re holding on too long—or holding on for a reason.Through quiet questioning and inherited resilience, the writer explores what it means to stay devoted to projects that no longer look the way they once imagined. Whether you’re building something from scratch, revisiting an old idea, or nurturing a vision that hasn’t quite landed yet, this letter offers permission to not have all the answers.If you’ve ever felt torn between letting go and staying loyal to your creative work, this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this:What part of your body or sexuality were you taught to ignore—and what would it mean to reclaim it?This letter is for anyone raised to believe that sex is shameful, silence is safety, and pleasure is something to fear.Through unapologetic truth-telling and cultural honesty, the writer challenges the long-standing taboos around sex in Filipino households—especially those shaped by Catholic doctrine and generational silence. They reflect on how shame has kept us unprepared: for intimacy, for consent, for naming harm, and for experiencing connection that is safe, mutual, and fulfilling.If you’ve ever felt disconnected from your body, silenced by your culture, or unsure of your right to feel pleasure—this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you can reflect on one thing, it’s this:What unspoken rules shaped your voice growing up—and what do you want your children to hear instead?This letter is for anyone raised to stay quiet “out of respect” to one’s elders, even if that silence costs them their emotional well-being.Through tender storytelling and raw vulnerability, the writer reflects on what it means to parent with intention after growing up in a household of unspoken feelings and quiet suffering. From honoring her Lola’s love to rewriting generational patterns with her children, this letter is a soft but powerful reclamation of voice.If you’ve ever wished you had permission to speak up, to feel fully, or to say “I’m hurt” without fear, you’re not alone. This one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing:Have you ever mistaken intensity for love?This letter is for anyone who’s clung to the fantasy of a love that burns, only to be left scorched.Through raw storytelling and self-reflection, the writer revisits her past as a hopeless romantic, tracing how codependency, loneliness, and a savior complex once shaped her understanding of love. But now, she chooses differently.With hard-won clarity, she offers us a new metaphor: wildfires versus campfires. Where love once meant chaos and sacrifice, she now finds safety in warmth, reciprocity, and steady companionship.If you’ve ever been addicted to emotional highs, drawn to people who need saving, or felt ashamed to admit that healthy love feels “boring” after a lifetime of drama, this letter is for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing, it’s this: What unmet need did someone fail to meet, only for you to realize it was yours to fulfill?This letter is for anyone who’s ever poured themselves into a friendship that never truly poured back.With fierce honesty and hard-won clarity, the writer revisits a best friendship marked by silence, conditional love, and ghosted goodbyes. From the pain of early rejection to the moment a birthday “gift” revealed everything, this letter names what many of us feel but struggle to say: love should never come at half price.If you’ve ever outgrown someone you once called “forever,” or found yourself waiting for an apology that never came, this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing:Have you ever wondered if your parents are truly happy with the life they chose?This letter is for anyone who has ever wanted to return the favor to their immigrant parents—not just with financial support or achievements, but by encouraging them to want more for themselves.Through heartfelt honesty and generational empathy, the writer wrestles with the quiet grief of watching her parents settle too soon. She thanks them for their sacrifices, then gently asks if they’re truly fulfilled—or just surviving.If you’ve ever longed for your parents to keep growing with you, to heal what was left unsaid, or to believe their story isn’t over yet—this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

If you could reflect on one thing:When was the last time you honored your own growth—even if it meant leaving something good behind?This letter is for anyone who’s felt the “quiet knowing” of outgrowing a former version of themselves.Through gentle reflection and emotional honesty, the writer revisits the early days of this podcast, acknowledging what once was, what it cost, and what it means to move forward with grace.If you’ve ever realized that your old dreams no longer fit, or that you're ready to honor the person you’ve become, this one’s for you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe

Welcome to TFAW Letters, a special summer series from The Filipino American Woman Project. I’m your host, Jen Amos. Each week, I will read a fictionalized letter—my creative interpretation of real conversations with you! These letters have been woven with heart, reflection, and truth—to honor your stories while protecting your privacy. It all begins with one line: “If I could say one thing…” Because sometimes, one thing is all we need to take up a little more space. Let’s get started.Tune in for our first episode on Friday, June 20th, our podcast’s sixth anniversary! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.tfawletters.com/subscribe