I absolutely despise the concept of age. I believe there are far too many people, and even entire societies, norms, and cultures, that treat age as a limiting factor.Age is often used as a gatekeeper, drawing arbitrary lines around what someone "should" or "shouldn't" do. It becomes an excuse to underestimate the young and to dismiss the ambitions of those who don't fit expected timelines. Many people cling to age as a metric of worth or capability, which only reinforces close-minded thinking. When we rely on age instead of merit or passion, we end up discouraging creativity, discouraging risk, and stifling potential.Why can't a CEO be younger than most of the VPs? Why do we assume wisdom only arrives with decades rather than experience, curiosity, or innovation? Why do we trust a number more than a person's abilities or character? Leadership, vision, and skill do not wait for a particular birthday, yet countless institutions act as though they do.When I pass away, I do not want the stereotypical markings on my tombstone stating my birth year and my year of passing.I simply want it to say:
Seth Sanchez
Loving partner of Rosebelle
(and the year of my passing)
As I travel more outside my home country, the Philippines, I increasingly recognize the things my people and I deal with every single day. It happens so often that it has become our "normal," and only by traveling or thinking outside the box do we realize that we have been tolerating a substandard way of living that no decent human being should have to experience in the first place.When we moved to Canada, our first first-world country, where we lived for more than half a year, I realized that my three-hour bus ride back home was equivalent to only a thirty-minute bus ride here, simply because public transportation receives more thought, planning, and budget in Canada compared to the Philippines.A two-hour drive from Calgary to Lake Louise spans 200 km, while a two-hour drive on a normal day in Metro Manila often takes you only about 50 km because of the disgustingly congested traffic.There are many more examples of everyday differences that one can only notice and truly compare after living in those places for more than half a year, not just during a typical one-week vacation abroad. Living abroad exposes you not just to new landscapes, but to new standards of what life can and should be. It forces you to question why certain struggles are normal back home when they aren't universal realities. It also makes you realize how deeply systems shape daily life, often in ways you don't recognize until you step outside them.Long-term exposure reveals truths that short trips simply cannot.
I am a tattoo lover, and I love all the tattoos I currently have.As of writing this, I hold the belief that every tattoo I get should have meaning, because I will carry it with me forever until my physical body perishes. And of course, they're great conversation starters, too.So far, I've dedicated my entire left arm to a single artist from Calgary, AB. Every time I go to him for a tattoo, we talk about how he has developed and refined his craft over the years, and how that evolution is literally visible on my arm. I think having that narrative and connection with my artist adds another meaningful layer to the experience.I've been obsessed with American traditional tattoos, and it seems like that obsession will be sticking around for quite some time.
I cleansed 90% of my social media connections.
I am a '90s kid and grew up, hit puberty, and matured all at the same time with Facebook. There was a phase when, if I saw even one mutual friend, I would either send a friend request or accept one without thinking twice.I took the digital razor blade and shaved my Facebook profile from 4,800 friends down to 480, and I'll keep trimming until my peace is truly satisfied.There came a point when I found myself scrolling through my feed and seeing photos of people I don't actually know, have fallen apart with, grown apart from, found too negative, or simply no longer care about. That became my simple litmus test: if any of those conditions applied, I would click the unfriend button without hesitation.Relearning how to curate my digital space felt like taking back control of my attention and energy. It reminded me that online relationships should reflect real-life intentions, not leftover connections from every phase of my past.Removing people isn't an act of hostility; it's an act of clarity.My feed now feels calmer, more authentic, and far more aligned with who I am today.
© Seth Sanchez. Updated November 2025. All rights reserved.