In a music industry that often celebrates perfection, singer Eric Santos chose something far more powerful — honesty.

In an open letter addressed to the woman he calls family, Santos spoke directly to Regine Velasquez not as a fan, nor merely as a colleague, but as someone who has witnessed both her triumphs and her quiet battles behind the spotlight.

“Dear Ate Reg,

We see you. We know that lately, some performances have felt like a battle with anxiety and that the stage, which once brought you pure joy, now sometimes brings frustration instead.”

Rather than focusing on technical excellence, Santos reframed the conversation around legacy. For him, the title “Asia’s Songbird” was never about hitting every note perfectly — it was about impact.

“Please know that your legacy as THE Asia’s Songbird is not defined by a single high note or a perfect vocal day. It is defined by more than four decades of being the heartbeat of OPM.”

He acknowledged the natural changes in her voice, something Velasquez herself has openly discussed, and turned it into a testament of endurance rather than decline.

“Palagi mo sinasabi that you sound different now, na nagbago na talaga yung boses mo… Kung may pagbabago man, that change carries the weight of a lifetime of stories.” (“You always say that you sound different now, that your voice has really changed… If there is any change, it carries the weight of a lifetime of stories.”)

Santos even pointed to a recent collaboration that reminded audiences of the unmistakable presence she still commands.

“But your recent duet with Josh Groban proved that you still possess the ‘magic’ that captivates a room.”

More than the music, however, what resonated most in his message was the humanity behind the icon. For Santos, Velasquez’s openness about anxiety was not a weakness — it was a gift.

“Your honesty about your struggles makes you more than just an icon, it makes you human.”

He then revealed the Regine the public rarely sees — the one beyond arenas and television cameras.

“What I cherish most are not only the times I get to perform with you, but moreso, the quiet moments we’ve shared… mga tawanang halos walang katapusan.” (“What I cherish most are not only the times I get to perform with you, but more so, the quiet moments we’ve shared… laughs that seem never-ending.”)

In his eyes, her most important role is not onstage, but at home.

“I see how your eyes light up when you talk about Nate, and how your greatest performance isn’t at the Araneta or MOA Arena but in the dedication you show as a mom to Nate and a loving wife to Kuya Ogie.”

The letter closed not with applause, but reassurance — a reminder that she no longer has anything to prove.

“You’ve given us enough high notes to last a lifetime. Solved na solved na kami dun… you don’t have to be ‘The Songbird’ every time you step on stage. To us, you are Regine — our Ate and that is more than enough.”

In an era obsessed with virality and vocal runs, Eric Santos offered a different kind of tribute: one grounded in friendship, gratitude, and acceptance.

And perhaps that is the loudest ovation of all.