Ace Leonard Marcos

There was a time in my life when smiling was against the rules. I was 22, fresh from the University of Santo Tomas with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Industrial Design and a cum laude honour. Most graduates get a moment to celebrate. I didn't. As an only child, I carried more than a diploma home. I carried my family's hopes, and I needed to start working right away.

My first job began like a dream. Then slowly it became something else. Cameras watched us all day. We were told not to look at each other, not to eat lunch together and not to smile. Even our toilet breaks were counted, and holding it in for hours made me sick. I stayed anyway, because my family depended on that salary and I was too afraid to lose it.

I lasted a full year and even won Rookie of the Year. But the real reward was the lesson. Your health is never part of the job description. Fear is not loyalty. And the people who stand beside you in the hardest rooms become friends for life.

At my next company I found what work should feel like. A team that laughed together, travelled together and looked out for each other. It reminded me that the right environment can bring out the best in you.

Then I made the scariest decision of my life. I left everything familiar and flew to Dubai.

I landed in April 2024 in the middle of a historic storm. The streets were flooding. I still went out with my CV in hand. One employer liked me but would not commit to a visa, so I walked away. Even when you have very little, you still have your worth.

Then a LinkedIn message from MECSR changed everything. They were hiring and sent me a design test with a deadline.

I had no laptop and no software. I borrowed my cousin's old laptop, so slow it groaned with every click, and started designing. Time ran out before I could finish. I sent what I had with an honest note that I understood this probably meant goodbye. I closed the laptop believing it was over.

The next morning my phone lit up. They wanted to meet me.

I walked into the World Trade Centre in a suit, shoes and a bag all borrowed from my cousins. My nerves were so loud that I ordered the wrong tea and barely took a sip. I sat there holding a cup I didn't want, in clothes that weren't mine, waiting for a job I thought I had already lost.

I got it.

That first year was a year of firsts. First time abroad. First time working with colleagues from different nationalities. The culture shock was real until it became one of my favourite parts. A year later the word "Junior" disappeared from my title.

Today my work goes well beyond design. I create the content, newsletters and campaigns that keep our members connected, and I support events like Retail Congress MENA. I also built a digital business card platform for the team and linked it to the NFC cards we use, so one tap is all it takes to share our contact details with the people we meet.

I see malls differently now. Before, a mall was just a place to shop and escape the heat. Now I know how much work and how many people stand behind it. Retail is bigger and more human than I ever imagined.

The best part is knowing we play a role in it. When our events bring the right people into one room, when we connect someone with the partner they needed or when a training helps a young professional grow, it matters. I know what it feels like when someone gives you a chance. Now I get to help create those chances for others.

Outside work I'm still the boy who loves to sing. I paint, I travel and I've started creating content. And I carry one dream above the rest: to show my parents the world while they are still here. I have a feeling that dream is closer than they think.

I'm 26 now and I smile all the time. Not because life has been easy but because I learned that no one can take your joy unless you hand it over.

If there is one thing I hope you take from my story, it's this: you don't need to have everything figured out to move forward. Be honest about the unfinished work. Show up in borrowed shoes. Order the wrong tea. Take the leap anyway.

And never let anyone tell you not to smile.