I am proud of the strides made towards queer acceptance in the Philippines. Although we still have a long way to go, the fact that queerfolk can even hold pride parades without fear of censorship means so much to me. But even then, you would never catch me going to these events. Obviously, not because I’m homophobic. Any reason I have to be afraid of myself gets settled in therapy. I simply can’t connect with the type of queer Filipinos who have the confidence to join these parades. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’m sure there are so many accepting queerfolk in these parades that I’m simply too insecure to talk to.

I also have issues with my country’s desire, both queer and straights alike, to paint queerness with one technicolor brush. Although my friends support my non-binary self, I know so many old-school gays and lesbians who don’t understand it. God forbid I have to explain to my parents that on top of being bisexual, I’m not even 100% on the whole “boy” thing.

But, I can give it a try.

Also read: We Will Make it Through Pride

Being Queer Sucked For A Long Time In The Philippines

Before colonists spread the gospel to the so-called faithless pagans, the native population of what would eventually become the Philippines had a deeply empathetic perspective on queerfolk. Gender did exist, but the bigotry commonly associated with the social construct did not. Pre-colonial society gave feminine and masculine roles equal importance.

Feminine men, for example, could pursue the path of the babaylan, a spiritual leader in society. These men could even enter relationships with other men without fear of judgment. Anatomy was not the sole basis of one’s gender. Occupation, appearance, and action mattered far more to pre-colonial people than whatever you had under the loincloth.

Unfortunately, the spread of organized religions like Christianity and Islam brought along ideals of homophobia and misogyny. I am not saying that all Christians or Muslims are bigots. However, there is no denying that the spiritual leaders of the time, and frankly, leaders of today, hold harmful views of the LGBTQ community.

When the Americans tried to colonize the Philippines, they brought “scientific” support for homophobia, citing queerfolk as “sick” or “perverted.” With both religion and science condemning queerfolk, there wasn’t much sense in being open about who you are. When the Philippines finally achieved independence, the taint of anti-LGBTQ rhetoric unfortunately stayed. During the rule of Ferdinand Marcos, LGTBQ people were oppressed, with First Lady Imelda Marcos peddling anti-gay literature to the masses.

Also read: Three Acts, One Journey: “With Nothing On” and the Exploration of Identity

Once the EDSA People’s Revolution in 1986 dealt a fatal blow to the Marcos regime, LGBTQ people who fled the country returned and brought with them progressive ideals of queer identity. The 90s saw the rise of several LGBTQ groups that worked towards gaining legitimate political power.

Nowadays, queerfolk still face discrimination from the predominantly conservative Philippines, but they finally have a community that backs them when nobody else can. From notable queer icons in entertainment to senators openly calling for the acceptance of gay marriage, there’s no better time in post-colonial Filipino history to be queer than right now.

So Why Do I Hide?

“Acceptance” in the Philippines is complicated. Notable figures in the gay community are openly transphobic, believing transwomen are simply “confused” and just need to accept their biological origins as “fact.” There’s also the unfortunate association of queerfolk as “comedians,” accepted for the entertainment they provide. The funny hair stylist might give conservative grandmothers a chuckle, but the moment they bring up gay rights, these women will preach about fire and brimstone.

I am non-binary. I realized that fact in 2021, and I am much happier for it. As someone who’s always struggled with queer identity throughout my teen years, realizing there was a label that perfectly described how I felt was liberating. I liked being in my body, but I didn’t like people locking me into male or female roles. I’m me, and that’s what I want people to focus on more than anything else.

Honestly, my favorite reactions are people who go “Oh, cool” then just move on and use my preferred pronouns of ‘they/them’ moving forward. Discovering my non-binary identity is a big deal. Being non-binary is not. I am simply one of the thousands of nonbinary folks out there. I’m proud of who I am, but I also don’t make a show of it. I also know that for some people, making a show of it is part of their process.

I admire all the flashy rainbow gowns and public declarations of love. I also value the societal impact that these loud and proud queerfolk have for hidden LGBTQ people everywhere. The knowledge that you are not alone in your struggle means the world. But that’s just not me. I don’t think the presence of an awkward non-binary nerd shrinking away from the spotlight adds much to the experience. Maybe it does, but my natural inclination to avoid conflict tends to override my ambitions of becoming a queer icon. 

There’s also the fact that my non-binary status is a massive pain to explain. Whether queer or hetero, many Filipinos still view gender as a strict binary. “Love has no labels” might be a catchy slogan, but in practice, it’s often not the case. People will label you however they want. For the most bigoted conservatives, all gay people are effeminate perverts. For old-fashioned gays and lesbians, the dynamic still needs to be “the manly one” and the “feminine one.”

Also read: A Gaysi Guide on Labels and How to Use Them

I’m fortunate to have friends and family supportive of my identity. Still, I’ve also met some folks who scoff at the idea of non-binary. “It’s too complicated” they say through fake smiles, and honestly, that hurts just as much as any slur. The idea that who I am is “too complicated” to bother understanding. If they won’t bother understanding me, I don’t see a point in giving them the chance to laugh.

At the core of it, I’m still not “open-open”. I recognize the amusing irony of attaching my name to a public article titled “quietly queer.” I doubt anybody I’m hiding my queerness from reads articles about the queer experience anyway. Even if they do, I don’t care. I just won’t go out of my way to share something important to me when I know apathy or bigotry will follow.

I wrote this just to let shy queerfolk like me know that there’s nothing wrong about not joining pride parades in the Philippines. Everybody has personal reasons for doing so. Donating to charities, voting for LGBTQ-supportive politicians, and even sharing the love on social media are valid ways of showing support. After all, pride parades are just one way of celebrating queer identity. It might not be for me, but I’m so happy to live in a country where queer people can express their love so openly. Maybe one day, I’ll join them.