[Pastilan] This isn’t some dating app, Sara

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The Constitution isn’t your toxic ex, and the Philippines isn’t some relationship you can ghost whenever the vibe feels off

Alam ‘nyo, mas masakit pa ang maiwanan ng boyfriend o girlfriend kaysa ma-impeach ka ng House of Representatives. – Sara Duterte

Ah, the Vice President’s quip — a moment of levity. But beneath the jest lies something more revealing, if not unsettling: a cavalier view of public service and constitutional processes. For Sara Duterte, being left by a significant other is somehow more painful than facing impeachment. 

The comparison is absurd. One is an emotional rejection; the other is a constitutional safeguard as part of our democratic processes. Have you ever heard a surgeon say, “Performing open-heart surgery? That’s nothing compared to my ex ghosting me!” Or a pilot saying, “Crash landing? No big deal. The real tragedy was when she left me on ‘read’ for three days.”

Love hurts, no doubt. But so does watching the country’s second-highest official trivialize a process designed to protect the country from burglary and amoks as if it were a teenage heartbreak. The real question is, what’s worse — that she actually believes this, or that she said it out loud? Politicians usually mask their disdain for democracy in policy decisions, not punchlines.

Yet, here we are. With this single remark, Duterte distills impeachment — a constitutional instrument of accountability — into the realm of personal inconvenience. If she’s equating it to getting dumped, does that make the House of Representatives her toxic ex? So, is constitutional accountability just another bad Tinder date for her?

She actually thought this was relatable, as if the country were sitting around, nodding along, agreeing that impeachment is just like a breakup. No, Sara. A breakup is when someone stops texting you back. Impeachment is when one branch of government decides you’re unfit to lead and takes steps to remove you. Big difference, Sara.

It makes me wonder — if impeachment is just a breakup to her, then what does she think the judiciary or the Supreme Court is? A damn therapy session? Like, “Alright, Vice President Sara, let’s talk about why the legislative branch thinks you’re a walking disaster. How does that make you feel?”

This is the intellectual impoverishment the Filipino nation faces. A leader who conflates the solemnity of an impeachment with the pettiness of a failed romance is not merely misguided but dangerously indifferent to the weight of her office. It is an infantilized narcissism, one that mistakes self-pity for governance and reduces the integrity of public trust to the flimsy dynamics of personal grievance.

Politicians get impeached for corruption, but Ms. Duterte? She’s turning it into a bad breakup line, saying something like it’s not her, but the Constitution that’s at fault or something to that effect. It is as if the very document that enshrines accountability is somehow to blame for holding her responsible via the constitutional provision on impeachment.

Those who hold high office should be reminded, in terms they might actually grasp, that their personal grievances are of no consequence to the public. Governance is not a support group, nor is democracy some kind of self-help seminar designed to assuage the wounded egos of the powerful. 

The solemn duties of public office exist precisely to withstand the turbulence of individual sentiment. A leader is not entitled to sympathy when faced with scrutiny — only to the same cold, dispassionate standards of accountability that apply to anyone entrusted with power.

Yet here we are expected by her to indulge this bizarre conflation of constitutional duty with personal hardship, as if facing impeachment were somehow akin to being jilted by a lover. 

If governance is now a matter of emotional resilience rather than constitutional principle, then why bother with institutions at all? 

Why not replace deliberation with group therapy, and due process with a wellness retreat then? The next time this country finds itself on the brink of crisis, should we then forgo legislative scrutiny and instead send democracy a late night text: “Hey, you up?”

If the future of the Filipino nation is to be reduced to the language of adolescent melodrama, then let’s not stop at mere metaphors. Let’s go all in. Let’s redefine political accountability as “bad vibes,” frame constitutional checks and balances as “emotional baggage,” and dismiss ethical failures as just another “toxic relationship” that we’re all too exhausted to deal with. After all, in this new Duterte school of thought, governance isn’t about competence or integrity, but about who can play the victim best. 

The Constitution, which provides impeachment as a tool for accountability? Not a legal framework, but a toxic ex that just won’t move on.

Perhaps that’s the grand illusion here — that public service is some kind of personal journey, an Instagrammable exercise in self-care rather than a duty bound by law. No need for transparency or accountability when you can just reframe it all as emotional hardship. 

The next time a politician with furry hands gets caught in a corruption scandal? No problem – just call it a “learning experience.” Facing impeachment? Ah, it must be the haters again, ruining the vibe.

Someone should really tell Sara Duterte that governance isn’t a casual fling. Hoy, Sara! You don’t get to ditch accountability just because it doesn’t fit your mood. No, leadership means facing scrutiny, not running away from it.

The Constitution isn’t your toxic ex, and the Philippines isn’t some relationship you can ghost whenever the vibe feels off. Real leadership means owning up to your actions, not rebranding the Constitution as emotional baggage. 

If Sara can’t handle the heat, maybe it’s time that she stopped chasing after power and started dealing with the consequences. Pastilan. – Rappler.com