The belief that attraction and romantic desire can only naturally be between a man and a woman has always prevailed over dominating societies. In a world like this, the phenomenon of compulsory heterosexuality is birthed. Coined by Adrienne Rich in 1980, the term implies that straightness is not innate but instead a concept forced upon individuals or is a product of patriarchal culture.
Growing up in a Catholic institution where same-sex relationships are taught to be sinful, Mia* (III, AB-OSDM) recalls her early presumptions about romantic relationships that made it hard to accept her feelings of homosexuality. “I’ve always thought that women are for men and men are for women. And that brought me to the conclusion that anything beyond that is simply not acceptable.”
Sharing the same sentiment, John*, a 54-year-old father, admits that at a young age, his peers often directed jokes at him about being gay. Though he always brushed them off, he found the comments strange as he had always identified as heterosexual. Heterosexuality, after all, was the norm growing up, so it influenced his self-perception and, eventually, his decisions surrounding relationships. “Because there was an expectation, I felt like society expected me to be normal. So, I eventually got married. That’s why I have two kids,” he shares.
Hidden figures
Though indicative signs of queer feelings lingered throughout their lives, the incessant compulsion to adhere to heterosexual tendencies overshadowed and often buried them. For John, slight attraction toward the same sex was brushed aside as mere appreciation; on the other hand, Mia’s religious community rebuked such acts or feelings of alleged temptation. These instances created unsafe spaces, which in turn left them feeling disconnected from their true identities.
When Mia’s parents found out about her sexuality through her online conversation with a friend, it initiated her struggle with self-acceptance. “[Being gay] is kind of like a lifestyle for them talaga, [which is] a lifestyle of living in sin for them. And for a time, it felt like that,” she admits. Adding to her feelings of conflict, her previous church labeled same-sex relationships as “dirty” and preached against it.
These internal battles with the self may last shortly for some, but for others, it can mean decade-long wars. It was only during the middle of his 12-year marriage that John started to notice his attraction toward men. He realized that it was more than just the simple admiration he felt as a teen, which perplexed him. “Wala namang nag-guide sa akin on what I should feel. Parang nawe-weird-ohan lang ako na bakit I got married [because] I love my wife…but then, na-attract na ako sa lalaki,” he explains.
(No one guided me about what I should feel. I just felt weirded out about why I got married in the first place because I love my wife, but then I started to become attracted to men.)
While living your truth is easier said than done, it’s difficult to navigate through the journey of self-acceptance surrounded by an environment so heavily centered around an imposed way of living. When John and Mia finally came out, both were either harshly criticized or simply tolerated rather than fully accepted. Friends and families also struggled to understand their coming out. At one point, John’s parents were even condemned by certain people around them, questioning why his family “allowed” him to be queer.
Reaching the clearing
Despite the pressure, queerness has always found a way to persist against heteronormative norms. John’s experiences left him feeling alone in his journey to explore his identity. With the queer community still very much in hiding in the mid-2000s, he scoured the internet for answers—eventually finding people that shared his circumstances. “They were the ones who told me there were other people who are like me. Eventually, I met people who were also from the Philippines who had the same situation,” he retells in Filipino.
Through the online queer community, John was exposed to the different lifestyles and preferences people had. Similarly, Mia shares that when she struggled with her identity feeling fractured in junior high school, she found solace in schoolmates who were more open with their sexualities. “Hanging out with the same people every day on the way home…makes you a little more comfortable with them,” she furthers. “So it was easy for me [to accept my queerness] around them.”
Seeing others be so open alleviated the trepidation they felt toward their own identities. John imparts, “There are people who are really brave and confident about their own sexuality. That’s where you get inspiration from.”
Whereas chosen families are easier to find acceptance from, those bound to us by blood can take more time to come around. But change isn’t impossible to achieve. It has been nine years since Mia came out to her parents, and while she still hears the occasional homophobic joke from her relatives, she recognizes her parents’ efforts to understand her sexuality better and to stop imposing their beliefs onto her. She recalls a moving conversation with her dad, “Parang sabi niya, ‘I don’t know how to talk to you as someone in the community, but I do know how I can talk to you as a daughter.’”
Waiting to fly
Social pressures to follow, affirm, or label one’s preferences can weigh heavily on one’s shoulders. But John divulges, “All along, I never felt that there was a burden on me. But when I told at least to the closest people to me, I felt free.” No matter the fear and anxiety brought out by going against society’s expectations, it can never topple being in touch with what feels natural to you. “Nothing compares with living your life truthfully,” John professes.
With kids who are now old enough to understand their father’s sexuality, John is adamant that he has no regrets on his journey—from his marriage to his coming out—and sees it all as integral to who he is now. “My kids are the precious outcome of what I’ve experienced. I have asked my children before if they preferred that I didn’t part ways with their mom,” he posits. While it was a difficult conversation, they recognized the personal battles their dad was facing. “They know that [if I had not come out], I probably would have been struggling throughout my entire life until death.”
To that point, he hopes that younger people “spend time getting to know themselves first rather than conforming to what others think their sexuality should be.” It is human nature for our identities to grow, shift, and transform with time—progress is never linear, and certainly not with discovering who you are. “You don’t have to have a deadline naman on figuring out who you are, because everyone’s still learning. Just trust the process,” Mia affirms.
Pockets of lingering homophobia and bigotry may always be there, but the acceptance of queerhood starts from within. Being queer has always been a spectrum; there is a place for everyone, wherever they may lie on it at any point in their lives. As the times are bound to change, so will society—life is far too transient not to love who we love in the moment.
*Names with asterisks (*) are pseudonyms
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s June 2024 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSJune2024.
