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Abi Nako, or So I Thought
Abi Nako, or So I Thought is a memoir of Cruz’s first ten years in Davao City, where she moved after her heterosexual marriage had failed. It is about her efforts to rebuild her life as a single mother to two children and her adventures in (re)fashioning herself as a writer and a lesbian in the face of her own false expectations.
As a memoir, the overarching narrative is concerned with starting over and dealing with the challenges of relocating to a distinctly Davao community. But with this memoir of being a significant part of her process of becoming, Cruz also interrogates its form by approaching it in a nonlinear manner, with twenty stand-alone essays as chapters and some graphic elements.
As a memoir, the overarching narrative is concerned with starting over and dealing with the challenges of relocating to a distinctly Davao community. But with this memoir of being a significant part of her process of becoming, Cruz also interrogates its form by approaching it in a nonlinear manner, with twenty stand-alone essays as chapters and some graphic elements.
217 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2020
About the author
Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz
7 books17 followersJhoanna Lynn B. Cruz is the Palanca award-winning author of Women Loving (2010), the first sole-author collection of lesbian-themed stories in the Philippines, which is now available in an e-book entitled Women on Fire (2015). She is Associate Professor of creative writing at the University of the Philippines Mindanao. She has presented her work in literary festivals and events in Hong Kong, Thailand, Singapore, Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Japan, and Australia. Her work appears in the “New Asia Now” issue of Griffin Review, the anthologies The Near and the Far: New Stories from the Asia-Pacific Region (2016), and Sanctuary: Short Fiction from Queer Asia (2019). Cruz has received several Philippine writing fellowships and an international writing residency from the Writers Immersion and Cultural Exchange Program. She holds a PhD from RMIT University, Melbourne, Australia.
She shares her life with her partner Atty. Camille Sevilla and makes her home in Davao City with her two children and two cats.
She shares her life with her partner Atty. Camille Sevilla and makes her home in Davao City with her two children and two cats.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
April 30, 2021
*3.5*
May 2, 2021
Although Jhoanna Lynn Cruzʼs “Abi Nako, or So I Thought” may look like a collection of essays at first glance, this book is actually a memoir detailing the profound life changes the author has gone through and survived—the events that have made Cruz the woman, mother, and writer she is now.
Here you will find Cruz leaving Baguio and Manila to live in Davao and start a new life. Here you will find Cruz losing and mourning her brother, her mother, and her dog. Here you will find Cruz building a house on Macopa Street. “If I had taken the corner lot beside mine,” she writes about her new home, “we could have lived on Mango Street, which would have tickled my literary self.” At least it’s not on Zapote Street.
As a scholar herself Cruz is very sharp in her casual analysis of words, demonstrating how the words she writes about resonate with her experiences. In the titular essay she writes of the Binisaya phrase “abi nako”: “‘abi’ means ‘to misconstrue, misread,’ while ‘nako’ means ‘mine.’ In this language, my misconceptions are not only my own, I must also own them. Thus, I am not just misreading it; it is my own misreading.”
Furthermore, as an essayist, Cruz explores the different possibilities of the form. Borrowing from poetic forms, the prologue of this collection can be described as a “concrete essay,” while “Dear Joy, Erased, with Thanks” and “The House on Macopa Street” may be referred to as “erasure essay” and “blackout essay” respectively. “Buying the House on Macopa Street” is your straightforward essay, except that it’s also visual because it’s accompanied by tarot cards illustrated by Emiliana Kampilan/Dead Balagtas (which reminds me of Italo Calvino’s “The Castle of Crossed Destinies”). “Learn to Dive in Nine Steps, More or Less” is a how-to article but not quite, and “In the Fellowship of the Martyrs” takes on the form of a litany of saints. Lastly “Directions for My Care,” which also serves as the epilogue, is written as a medicolegal form.
Linguistic analyses and formal experimentations aside, what lies at the heart of this book is Cruz’s relationship with her mother and her children. “Days Like This, Mommy Said” is about the times Cruz’s son (Raz) and daughter (Sachi) got infected with dengue, and it’s simply a very wholesome essay that every mother and child should read—and I use “wholesome” here to say that we badly need to read it, especially in these not-so-wholesome times. In “Do Not Resuscitate,” which is my favorite piece in this book and the piece that made me cry, Cruz recounts her mother’s death and reveals her fraught relationship with her:
“While waiting for her body to be prepared for cremation, I wrote her a letter saying, ‘I will write you a longer letter when I have fully, or even half-figured out what it means for you to be gone. But for now, I send you off with love, as much as I can muster, on your final journey. Forgiveness is our last gift to each other, and I hope I have yours. You have mine.’
“What else could I have said? Love did not come naturally between us. Mom was the first one who taught me it was a choice. That you couldnʼt expect it from someone just because youʼre family. That you had to work to deserve it. That you could lose it when you failed expectations. I disagreed with those lessons later when I had my own children, but it was too late for the child in me. I had always thought I was a motherless child, and now I really was.”
“This book took ten years to live and write,” Cruz writes in the bookʼs acknowledgments. And it shows. One can only imagine the time, as well as the tears, it takes to tell the truths throughout this book.
Here you will find Cruz leaving Baguio and Manila to live in Davao and start a new life. Here you will find Cruz losing and mourning her brother, her mother, and her dog. Here you will find Cruz building a house on Macopa Street. “If I had taken the corner lot beside mine,” she writes about her new home, “we could have lived on Mango Street, which would have tickled my literary self.” At least it’s not on Zapote Street.
As a scholar herself Cruz is very sharp in her casual analysis of words, demonstrating how the words she writes about resonate with her experiences. In the titular essay she writes of the Binisaya phrase “abi nako”: “‘abi’ means ‘to misconstrue, misread,’ while ‘nako’ means ‘mine.’ In this language, my misconceptions are not only my own, I must also own them. Thus, I am not just misreading it; it is my own misreading.”
Furthermore, as an essayist, Cruz explores the different possibilities of the form. Borrowing from poetic forms, the prologue of this collection can be described as a “concrete essay,” while “Dear Joy, Erased, with Thanks” and “The House on Macopa Street” may be referred to as “erasure essay” and “blackout essay” respectively. “Buying the House on Macopa Street” is your straightforward essay, except that it’s also visual because it’s accompanied by tarot cards illustrated by Emiliana Kampilan/Dead Balagtas (which reminds me of Italo Calvino’s “The Castle of Crossed Destinies”). “Learn to Dive in Nine Steps, More or Less” is a how-to article but not quite, and “In the Fellowship of the Martyrs” takes on the form of a litany of saints. Lastly “Directions for My Care,” which also serves as the epilogue, is written as a medicolegal form.
Linguistic analyses and formal experimentations aside, what lies at the heart of this book is Cruz’s relationship with her mother and her children. “Days Like This, Mommy Said” is about the times Cruz’s son (Raz) and daughter (Sachi) got infected with dengue, and it’s simply a very wholesome essay that every mother and child should read—and I use “wholesome” here to say that we badly need to read it, especially in these not-so-wholesome times. In “Do Not Resuscitate,” which is my favorite piece in this book and the piece that made me cry, Cruz recounts her mother’s death and reveals her fraught relationship with her:
“While waiting for her body to be prepared for cremation, I wrote her a letter saying, ‘I will write you a longer letter when I have fully, or even half-figured out what it means for you to be gone. But for now, I send you off with love, as much as I can muster, on your final journey. Forgiveness is our last gift to each other, and I hope I have yours. You have mine.’
“What else could I have said? Love did not come naturally between us. Mom was the first one who taught me it was a choice. That you couldnʼt expect it from someone just because youʼre family. That you had to work to deserve it. That you could lose it when you failed expectations. I disagreed with those lessons later when I had my own children, but it was too late for the child in me. I had always thought I was a motherless child, and now I really was.”
“This book took ten years to live and write,” Cruz writes in the bookʼs acknowledgments. And it shows. One can only imagine the time, as well as the tears, it takes to tell the truths throughout this book.
December 26, 2021
Whenever I read memoirs, I ask myself what is it that I learn from the author's life experiences. Reading Cruz's Abi Nako, or So I Thought was rich of lessons. She is a lesbian, I am not. She writes beautifully, I don't. She is open to new adventures and new experience, I am not. I am contented to what life presents in front of me.
Cruz has gone through a lot. Changing residences. Changing partners. Trying it out with members of opposite sex. Before having members of the same sex as life partners. She got estranged with her loved ones - falling out or death, it doesn't matter. She plods, she hangs in there, she survives. Looking at her life (so far), she learned her lessons and those lessons can resonate with everyone who reads this book. There were times in her life that I thought that having an open communication or direct talk, even how difficult the conversation will be, could have avoided certain situations to escalate. Cruz's solution seems to be to write and not to talk. Or to go away and settle in another place. It's okay as we have our own ways to solve our issues or to look at life through our own colored lenses.
Overall, reading this book is like meeting another person. A beautiful person. Cruz and I may not meet in real life but I am glad I've come to know her by reading this book. God bless your beautiful soul, Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz. Keep on writing.
Cruz has gone through a lot. Changing residences. Changing partners. Trying it out with members of opposite sex. Before having members of the same sex as life partners. She got estranged with her loved ones - falling out or death, it doesn't matter. She plods, she hangs in there, she survives. Looking at her life (so far), she learned her lessons and those lessons can resonate with everyone who reads this book. There were times in her life that I thought that having an open communication or direct talk, even how difficult the conversation will be, could have avoided certain situations to escalate. Cruz's solution seems to be to write and not to talk. Or to go away and settle in another place. It's okay as we have our own ways to solve our issues or to look at life through our own colored lenses.
Overall, reading this book is like meeting another person. A beautiful person. Cruz and I may not meet in real life but I am glad I've come to know her by reading this book. God bless your beautiful soul, Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz. Keep on writing.
October 10, 2021
She ate her own dog 😭 #RIPSapayKoma
Funny, relatable, and necessary. A gift to the Philippine literary community.
Funny, relatable, and necessary. A gift to the Philippine literary community.
August 1, 2022
my first feat at a memoir if i remember correctly! I don’t know what to feel or say probably because I watched everything everywhere all at once before binge reading this one. But i wish things were tied up well but i guess that’s not really an ending for a memoir. Memoirs are nice i guess it’s like narcissism (for me like if i were to write one only) but not really
there were moments that were so relatable while there were some that weren’t really. I have my own moments of Abi Nako. And I’m sure I’ll have more. Good thing I have this book to remind me that abi nako moments won’t end your life.
Honestly the themes were all over and i imagine that’s normal for a memoir slash anthology but my favorites were:
Abi nako, or so i thought, claiming our inheritance, Learn to dive, and in the fellowship of the martyrs!
Maybe the first few chapters were also good but i don’t remember much because there was such a huge gap in my reading
there were moments that were so relatable while there were some that weren’t really. I have my own moments of Abi Nako. And I’m sure I’ll have more. Good thing I have this book to remind me that abi nako moments won’t end your life.
Honestly the themes were all over and i imagine that’s normal for a memoir slash anthology but my favorites were:
Abi nako, or so i thought, claiming our inheritance, Learn to dive, and in the fellowship of the martyrs!
Maybe the first few chapters were also good but i don’t remember much because there was such a huge gap in my reading
August 17, 2022
“The Binisaya dictionary tells us that abi means ‘to misconstrue, misread,’ while nako means ‘mine.’ In this language, my misconceptions are not only my own, I must also own them. Thus, I am not just misreading it; it is my own misreading.”
Palanca awardee Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz writes her memoir Abi Nako, or So I Thought, a collection of essays that details her life: leaving places to live a better life; losing love to find love; and in a way, stumbling through a series of missteps to find her footing in this ever so complicated world.
I find joy in reading memoirs because it’s more like meeting someone from a different background, and from which I can learn. Abi nako.
What makes Cruz’ memoir stand out is how this book is more than just a learning curve, but an experience and excursion. It is a piece of literary work that is so raw and honest it makes you want to crawl up inside the pages to soothe and carry at least half the burden off the author’s chest.
Yet despite all the heartbreaks she’s put out there, this is also about regaining the heart to pursue, give, and be open in receiving an honest and peaceful type of love – for herself, children, mother, romantic partners, and for her craft.
The only drawback for me, like with other books on a collection of essays, is that some are better than the others. But still, definitely worth a read and will not disappoint you.
It's funny how my two favorites from the book is titled, "Do Not Rescucitate" and "Staying Alive" -- Cruz tells about her fraught relationship with her mother and eventually her mother's death, and the latter about writers and death, and how death is at the core of our lives.
"Within me is a grave for all that I have ceased believing in, all that I have lost, and all that I have given up. I write to stay alive."
Palanca awardee Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz writes her memoir Abi Nako, or So I Thought, a collection of essays that details her life: leaving places to live a better life; losing love to find love; and in a way, stumbling through a series of missteps to find her footing in this ever so complicated world.
I find joy in reading memoirs because it’s more like meeting someone from a different background, and from which I can learn. Abi nako.
What makes Cruz’ memoir stand out is how this book is more than just a learning curve, but an experience and excursion. It is a piece of literary work that is so raw and honest it makes you want to crawl up inside the pages to soothe and carry at least half the burden off the author’s chest.
Yet despite all the heartbreaks she’s put out there, this is also about regaining the heart to pursue, give, and be open in receiving an honest and peaceful type of love – for herself, children, mother, romantic partners, and for her craft.
The only drawback for me, like with other books on a collection of essays, is that some are better than the others. But still, definitely worth a read and will not disappoint you.
It's funny how my two favorites from the book is titled, "Do Not Rescucitate" and "Staying Alive" -- Cruz tells about her fraught relationship with her mother and eventually her mother's death, and the latter about writers and death, and how death is at the core of our lives.
"Within me is a grave for all that I have ceased believing in, all that I have lost, and all that I have given up. I write to stay alive."
June 7, 2024
Unapologetically raw and candid, this memoir by Prof. Jhoanna Lynn Cruz affirms that life is a series of misfortunes and joy, and in the end, the challenges are the ones that make us who we are, as a woman, as an individual. It taught me that having the humility to stand by our choices, both good and bad, and learn from them, makes life what it is: a roller coaster ride we must enjoy. 5 stars for me!
February 20, 2024
I barely read memoirs, let alone from a local author. However, this book really pulled on my heartstrings especially as someone who has a queer parent. The book was very enlightening as it made me somewhat understand our own family dynamics.
April 28, 2022
that entire staying alive chapter. yeah.
August 31, 2022
how have I never met this woman before and yet feel like she know me so intimately
May 16, 2026
Made me feel so much, taking me to a moment and internalising what I would have done in my own relatable encounters.
June 1, 2022
one of the most unique memoirs i've ever read. very relatable and inspiring!!
January 5, 2023
I thought I would feel a sense of affinity with Jhoanna as someone who had lived in Baguio (albeit for different reasons – me for school, her for love) and then hauled everything she owned across Mindanao (again for different reasons – me for work, her to start anew). But reading her essays, I just felt.... nothing.
I also thought Claiming Our Inheritance was distasteful as the author juxtaposes her failed relationship with a deeply entrenched and complex issue which is the protracted conflict in Mindanao.
Although the book delivered its promise of a collection of standalone essays about the writer's move to Davao, I felt that some of the pieces could have been fashioned in a way that wouldn't have sounded repetitive.
I also thought Claiming Our Inheritance was distasteful as the author juxtaposes her failed relationship with a deeply entrenched and complex issue which is the protracted conflict in Mindanao.
Although the book delivered its promise of a collection of standalone essays about the writer's move to Davao, I felt that some of the pieces could have been fashioned in a way that wouldn't have sounded repetitive.
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews