Fridae

I was fully aware of my surroundings.

I entered the mall without any feeling of discomfort or unease, but at the same time I knew I was mindful of every movement around me - the shifting of eyes, pointing of fingers, nodding and shaking of heads as well as the raising of eyebrows from bystanders old, young, professionals, students and even senior citizens.

I had long hair, but I was slouched and wore an over-sized polo shirt, over-sized baggy jeans and bulldog shoes. At first glance I knew I looked like a boy but if one looked closer, specifically at my breasts, whoever was looking would know I was a woman.

My then-girlfriend didn't mind that people stared at us while we held hands as we walked together or when we cuddled up in our seats while watching a movie. But yes, we knew that we got stares and whispers.

Yet, whenever I'd stare back, those eyes would look away and then they'd be replaced by incessant mumblings of sorts. The whispers would always echo in my ears and sometimes I couldn't tell if what I was hearing was merely a figment of my imagination or what exactly was being said in their (in)discreet exchange of words.

I tried holding my head up and I sometimes succeeded in creating a pretense of courage and pride. But deep inside, I knew that discrimination was making me paranoid and jumpy. I still walked slouched, swaggering, my head held up but my eyes would always be directed downwards to avoid anyone's eyes.

And I'm not alone.

My butch friends and I would go out together with our femme friends and we'd get curious and disgusted stares mostly from men. Theses guys were mainly college kids and they'd drop provoking comments like "Macho! Macho! Tomboy!" or if they didn't shout, they'd say it beneath their breaths.

I'd like to think they did those things out of their own insecurities. I've met several guys who were never bothered by gay men or lesbians, and when asked why, their responses would always revolve around the mere fact that they were secure about their sexualities.

Some I know admired the way our girlfriends were beautifully built with their fair complexions and long legs, and secretly hoped that they could purge their insecurities by way of introducing themselves, getting to know the ladies and soon reach a conquest over their own machismo-complex to "convert" or save our girlfriends from a life of so-called deviance.

---

Sometimes, when I looked away for a few seconds, some guy would actually approach whoever (femme) I was with and introduce himself. My then-girlfriend was very friendly and she would accommodate these guys.

As soon as I looked back, they'd inch away with this look of triumph in their eyes and sometimes (I never confirmed it) I thought they'd actually walked away with not only a name but a phone number.

Oh c'mon, wasn't it obvious that the girl they met was with someone else? I only rolled my eyes but spoke nothing since inside me was also a feeling of shame.

It happened so often that maybe I just got used to it and a part of me started to ignore what was said behind my back. After all, these people talking about me with condemning looks were total strangers. What did they know about me? They were just nosy, rude people trying to be righteous and moralistic.

In a country that advocates morals and religion, I find it hard to believe that people can actually be so narrow-minded, or maybe when I look at it from another point of view, it's probably one of the reasons why beings such as I are being ostracized.

The majority of Filipinos are raised in a Christian upbringing and it's sad to see them misinterpret their own beliefs. I have nothing against organized religion but it frustrates me that the same religion one is born and raised is probably the reason for their lack of respect for others.

I not a member of any church -- yet I believe that human life, no matter how it is projected by any individual, deserves respect and understanding. I don't condemn straights for being straight and am definitely not heterophobic. After all, I do have personal relations with fine heterosexuals who do not disturb me about my sexuality.

And still in those times, there we were, walking, holding hands, and she seemed to be more confident than I. Her confidence pulled me up when I felt put down by the people around us. When people stared or spoke ill, she held my hand tighter and we'd both walk away quietly. I felt no triumphs or victories, sometimes it felt like a retreat but I knew it would never be a surrender.