EMPOWERHER

So even though the thought of public speaking usually has me ready to throw up in a Trader Joe’s paper bag, I surrendered. Because something in my spirit said: This matters.

For context—Rachelle Cobarrubias and I go way back. Seventh grade. We’re both petite, bubbly Filipinas with loud laughs and even louder hearts. Though in high school, Rachelle was definitely the friendly, approachable one. Me? I had the RBF with the secretly awesome personality underneath. LOL.

Rachelle’s younger sister, Roslynn, was my real-life doppelgänger. People constantly confused us. If I was anywhere within 30 miles of our hometown, someone thought I was her. She was the coolest lil’ hip-hop b-girl and DJ— lowkey legend status. Visionary, connector, creative force, and a trailblazer in the Filipino-American community. Roslynn didn’t just break ceilings—she built whole new rooms.

She passed away in November 2023. And I think we’re all still catching our breath.

This EMPOWERHER Women’s Networking Brunch, hosted by my boss babe bestie’s company, MEA & Associates, was Rachelle’s way of honoring her little sister. Of keeping her light alive.

Rachelle told me, “I had a dream where Rose was on stage, speaking to a huge crowd of women. She was glowing. I knew right then—I had to make it real.”

So in less than a month, she brought it to life. Just like that. A dream became a day. Seamlessly executed down to the smallest, but most appreciated details. And March 29th in West Covina became a space for healing, connection, and remembering what we’re made of.

Now listen—leading up to the event, I was recovering from pneumonia. Legit in the ER two days before. I honestly didn’t think I was gonna make it, let alone speak on a panel without sounding like a wounded goose.

But God. God shows up when it’s time. Even if you’re wheezing.

Also, let’s talk about my walk-up song. Because Rachelle didn’t come to play—she asked for a headshot, bio, and a walk-up song. Homegirl had a whole show to run.

 So when the DJ dropped Missy Elliott’s “Work It,” I walked my behind up to that stage with elbow pumps and a head bob that said, “Okayyy ma’am, you got this.” It was totally outside my comfort zone—but weirdly, I felt at peace. Like I belonged there.

 The room was filled with energy. Food and drinks flowing. Conversations buzzing. Beautiful faces nodding and listening and seeing each other.

 When my panel began, they asked how I balance personal and professional life—and what advice I’d give women juggling all the roles.

As a mom of three, working full-time everythang for what feels like forever, it hit me: this isn’t a balancing act. It’s survival. It’s a sacrifice. It’s sweaty, sleepless nights and hard-won confidence. It’s crying in the car and then fixing your face in the mirror before walking into a meeting. It’s doing your best with what you’ve got—and finding the strength to keep showing up. It’s a choice. And I choose this every single day. To be great and honestly, on some days, not so great. And there’s so much beauty in those softer, weaker moments as well. 

And as I shared, I looked out and saw women nodding. Laughing. Validating. I felt seen. Heard. Understood. They got it.

They got me.

 And I realized, I wasn’t alone in any of it.

I had my husband. My kids. My friends. My people. And now—this sisterhood of women, hyping each other up just for existing.

It’s an amazing feeling—to feel empowered while empowering someone else. To sit on a stage that scared you and walk off feeling more yourself than ever before.

Roslynn was all about connection. She lived to bring people together—to amplify joy, to build bridges, to create safe space. And that day? She did it again. Through Rachelle. Through us.

As I walked off that stage, still vibin’ to Missy in my head, I looked out at the room full of radiant women—hugging, laughing, crying, connecting—and I swear, I know we all felt her there.

Not just in spirit, but in the way the room pulsed with her purpose.

This wasn’t just a brunch. It was a movement. A moment where grief became grace. Where fear became fuel. Where strangers became sisters.

This one’s for you, Rose. 🌹

And for every woman who’s ever been afraid to use her voice—
We see you. We hear you. We’re rooting for you.
Always.