"Overwhelming."
That’s the word I keep repeating whenever someone asks me how I felt after the first day of the 1st National Mangrove Youth Summit (1NMYS). But it’s more than just a feeling—it’s a storm of emotions, realizations, and a sudden, fierce urgency to do something.

Yes, I’m the youngest delegate here. I just turned 18. And no, I’m not using my age as an excuse—I’m using it as my starting point.
Before this summit, my world revolved around school, friends, and the occasional existential crisis about my future. I had zero experience with mangroves, camping, or environmental advocacy—probably the only thing I've done for the environment was to follow "Claygo" or "Clean As You Go."
When I saw the application for 1NMYS, I hesitated. "What do I, an 18-year-old who barely knows how to set up a tent, have to offer?"

But my New Year’s resolution was clear: Go big or go home.
So I applied.
And somehow, against all odds, I was chosen—one of 30 youth delegates from 16 regions across the Philippines.

Day 1: Exhaustion, Awe, and a Fire Igniting
The first day was neutral, but heavy.
I sat in the auditorium of the Las Piñas-Parañaque Wetland Park (LPPWP), staring at the massive LED screen, scribbling notes until my hand cramped. The speakers—environmental warriors, scientists, and advocates—shared stories that hit me like waves.
One thought echoed in my mind:
"If they can dedicate their lives to this... what’s stopping me?"
For the first time, I felt this burning pull—this need to dive deep into environmental protection. Not just as a passion, but as a purpose.

Night 1: Cramps, a Bonfire, and a Wake-Up Call
By nighttime, I was done. My head throbbed. My body ached. My period cramps were ruthless. All I wanted was to collapse into the tent I barely managed to set up (shoutout to my fellow delegate who saved me from tent-pole chaos).
But then—bonfire debrief.
I almost skipped it. Almost.
But something told me to stay.
And there, under the stars, surrounded by flickering firelight, I listened to my fellow delegates share why this mattered to them.
Some spoke of families who depended on mangroves for survival. Others shared personal battles against deforestation in their provinces. Their words weren’t just stories—they were calls to action.
And me? The 18-year-old whose biggest worries were exams and weekend plans?
I realized how small my world had been.

Day 2: Birds, Mud, and a Shift in Perspective
The next morning, we went birdwatching, trekked through wetlands, and planned advocacy campaigns. On paper, these weren’t new to me—I’ve done activities like these before.
But this time, I wasn’t just participating.
I was learning from people who lived their advocacy.
Some delegates were fishermen’s children. Others were biology researchers. A few had already led local conservation projects.
And instead of feeling inadequate, I felt inspired.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t just hearing about change—I was sitting beside the people making it happen.

The Realization: Protect What Protects Us
This summit didn’t just teach me about mangroves. It taught me that advocacy isn’t about knowing everything—it’s about caring enough to start.
I may be the youngest here. I may have zero experience.
But I’m leaving with a fire I didn’t know I had.
And if there’s one thing I’ll carry with me, it’s this: If not me, who? If not now, when?
Because the truth is—we don’t have time to wait until we’re ‘ready.’
The mangroves need us now.
And I’m no longer just an 18-year-old girl.
I’m a voice for them.

P.S. To my fellow delegates—thank you for reminding me that age doesn’t define impact.
To the organizers—thank you for seeing potential in someone who didn’t even see it in herself yet.
To Sir Mark and Kuya Tabby, thank you, for inspiring me to be better and do best.
And to the mangroves?
I’m just getting started.