theorgy

Write off Discrimination - The Contributions

2010-11-30T12:58:00.010+08:00

Writing about discrimination is just as daunting as fighting it. But a few of our bloggers have taken the cudgels. Here they are:

Kiks dissects discrimination.

Mel Beckham hopes for something better.

Tobie gives his take on bisexuality.

Richie laments about pride and prejudice.

Désolé Boy tells the tale of a pink-laden land.

Melanie challenges.

Rocky slaps the wrist on internal discrimination.

Justin puts the D on discriminate.

Mu[g]en discriminates.

And Red tells us we are multifarious.

No one is ever too late to confront discrimination. And no one is ever too late to discuss it.

Pag-uutay-utay sa Diskriminasyon by Kiks

2010-11-30T11:06:00.000+08:00

Kelan ba nagsimula ang diskriminasyon?

Sabi nila, nung nagkaron ng konsepto ng private property ang mga tao, nagsimula na ito.

Nung panahon daw ng slavery, walang problemang magjekjekan ang mga lalaki kasi superyor sila. Mababa kasi ang pagtingin sa mga babae – mga paanakan lang at walang maitutulong sa pag-unlad ng lipunan.

Noong panahon ng monarchy, maraming pwedeng gawin ang royalty (katulad ng orgy sa palasyo, lalaki man o babae) na hindi nila keri kung mahihirap ang gagawa.

Noong World War II, okey lang si Hitler sa homosexual relations sa pagitan ng mga Nazi soldiers (although nabago ito after some time) habang pinapatay naman ang mga nahuhuling baklang Hudyo at iba pa.

Nitong recent times, isang baklang kaibigan ko mula sa High School ang hindi pinapasok sa isang bar dahil nakabihis syang pambabae. Bakla ang may-ari ng bar.

May kinalaman ang salapi, o ang pagmamay-ari nito, sa usapin ng diskriminasyon.

Kaya siguro maraming mga baklang nagpupursigeng kumita ng pera para makabili ng condominium units o basta maka-akyat lang ng career ladder para makaiwas sa diskriminasyon.

At sa mga di maabot ang pangarap na bituin, tumatahimik na lang. Nagpapamhin. Nag-aasawa ng babae. Pumupunta sa bathhouse?

Treading the economic path was an easy way for many of us to escape discrimination. Sadly, some of us end up discriminating others, even our own.

And still, marami pa rin sa atin ang discriminated. Minsan, dahil bakla tayo. Minsan, dahil Pilipino tayo. Karaniwan, dahil mahirap tayo.

Maraming pwedeng gawin para solusyonan ang diskriminasyon. I guess, isa na don yung kanta ng Buklod na ni-revive ni Bamboo – na kailangang baligtarin ang tatsulok para tayong mga nasa ibaba ang nasa tuktok.

O diba, parang simpleng inverted pink triangle lang?

Hindi madali. Pero pwede. Pwede.

(Pwede nyong basahin si Kiks dito.)

Things Get Better by Mel Beckham

2010-11-30T10:47:00.000+08:00

I believe in hope.

I believe in people.

I believe in opinions and choices.

I do not believe in discrimination.

In fact, I don't even think it exists.

I think I'm lucky to have never experienced being discriminated all my life. When I was a little girl, I often play with my sisters and girl neighbors because I can totally relate to what they play with.Dolls, dressing up, stationeries, jackstones and other girly stuffs.If they're not around I would gladly ask my younger bother and his friends if I can play with them and their toy guns and action figures.Of course, most of time they wouldn't let me because of my girly preferences. But that's fine with me. I understand if they don't like me playing with them and their toys.

During family reunions and other family affairs, I would always find myself alone in a certain corner, eating beside the flower pots. My cousins and other relatives would say "hi" then they proceed to be with their respective groups. On one occasion I overheard my cousin saying."Nandito pala ang nag-iisang bakla sa pamilya, who invited him?" But that didn't hurt me because I love my family more than their opinion. After all, Where would I be without my family? They're the only one that I have.

After college, I tried applying for a job in a multinational company. My level of confidence was at its peak considering how high my grades were. I would definitely land a job very easily. Or so I thought. After many attempts to be in the corporate world, I gave up. I thought my excellent scholastic record were enough to get myself employed but it's not that easy. Most companies prefer graduates from top colleges and universities and since I'm a graduate of some average school, I wasn't even considered. Oh well, it's their company and if their policy is to employ only graduates from top schools I guess I should move on, strive harder and prove to future employers that I'm a better choice than some "employment standards".

One time, my friends and I were on vacation, we decided to go to this posh resort. Upon checking in, we were asked to wait because there were foreigners who were also checking in even though we arrived first. I guess dollars and other foreign currencies are better than our Philippine pesos so we just excused ourselves and sat in the reception area while the newly arrived foreigners were getting accommodated.

There were no discrimination in the facts mentioned above. It's just a matter of understanding the situation and being more tolerant to the circumstances at hand. But I wish things were better. It would've been better if my brother's playmates saw how fun I was to be with, rather than seeing how different I was.It would've been better if what my relatives saw was how loving I was to my parents and siblings( I still am), rather than seeing me as the sore one. It would've been better if those companies I applied for saw how much of an achiever I was at school rather than consider my alma mater as an average school with average-performing products. It would've been better if the front desk personnel of that resort treated us equally rather than focusing on the foreigners with thicker pockets.

I do really hope things get better. Very soon.

(Read Mel's post here.)

Inside the Circle by Désolé Boy

2010-11-30T10:44:00.000+08:00

The land is pink and they say people are gay -literally. Here is a slab of land inhabited by people with merry faces, jokes and parties painted in their faces. Dwellers are intuned on a provoking thumpa thumpa. Sometimes outsiders refer to the group as federacion. I prefer the term family.

The same outsiders would frown whenever they take a peek. Eyebrows would curl then hushed conversations will follow. Then comes the suppressed gigglings. The conclusion, an established verdict by an ingrate jury in their pretentious courts.

Discrimination. It happens from the moment a gay yougster started swaying his hips on family occassions stretching to that moment of his strugglle for the much coveted promotion in his homophobic corporate world. Home, neighborhood, church, school. workplaces and yes, even here in the blogosphere, discrimination happens, like it or not. But these so-called discriminations are brought about by people who are either too narrow minded to understand or even respect our differences or by those who simply does not have a mind at all. Mostly, they are people who are not gays. Straight people.

In this vast playground we are all in, we gays suffer from bullying from these people who disagree with our way of living. But what we sometimes don't realise is the truth which that we actually have other bullies we are silently defending ourselves on - the bullies of our own kind. Yes, I am talking about discrimination within our circle.

Paul, a classmate of mine calls Dave, a guy from the other class, "baklang kanal." Long before, the gay runways are filled with muscle shirts and tight polos and ass-hugging skinny pants, floral dresses, tube and skirts reign the catwalk. Dave came from the old era while Paul epitomizes the modern gay guy with his chiseled chests (a product oh his gym addiction), well styled short hair cut (a product of trips to expensive salons) and a bulging cock. Dave, to avoid the everyday picking of Paul forced himself to adapt on what the runways are dictating. He cut his hair short and threw away his eye liners and mascara. He gave away his blouses and replaced them with polo shirts. Dave is no more a crossdresser.

But did Paul's bullying stop?

Sadly, no.

To Paul, Dave is still the school's "baklang kanal." Dave is skinny and dark. Far from Paul who's a handsome mestizo. Dave still got his high-pitched vocals while Paul teases him in his baritone voice. Dave took a hardtime following the trends on clothes, Paul always gets the latest.

The unspoken hierarchy boils down to one thing -masculinity. If the macho gay guys are laughing at what they call "screaming faggots" or simply effiminates, the other side are actually doing the same. Branded as phaminta (other version includes phamintang durog at buo) etc., they said these type of gay guys are pretentious and hypocrites, or as the gay slang says: echoserang palaka.

Seriously, the teasing and the pin-pointing may sound silly and funny to begin with but the issue actually has a serious shade to it. Isn't it not enough that we are being discriminated from outside our circle to create such kind of caste system? If we are to yell for the world to hear and recognize our difference shouldn't we recognize that we gays too have differences?

Dave's story of discrimination is just one example and there are of course many forms of discrimination within our circle. Probably the most serious of them is the discrimination of some gay people against fellow gays but are HIV positive. There hasn't been any formal move to address the issue but talks about it are currently on the rise.

I mean, being gay is not a choice but being what kind of gay a person is is his/her own choice. Drag queens, bears, muscled, trannys, butch, femme, bisexuals and whatever other labels we coined or might coin, it doesn't matter. It is one's expression of his sexuality. It is one's way of living.

Of course the anti-discrimination battle from the outside is a bigger deal but to challenge such deep-rooted matter, we must first establish a solidified unity within us to win this. Discrimination within us drags us from progressing faster towards our goal of equality. Discrimination within us further aggravates the struggle to acceptance of one's sexuality. It is pointless. It should end.

In defense of the pink land, the dwellers must unite and break their rankings to be able to hold hands together to fight the bullies. We cannnot effectively mobilise a campaign against discrimination if we don't walk the talk first. The fight against discrimination, I believe, must begin within us. Only then that we can fight discrimination as one solid big happy family, that hopefully one day our dream of equality would be realised.

(Read Désolé Boy here.)

Siyam ni Melanie

2010-11-30T10:42:00.000+08:00

Hangga't alam kong ako'y bakla...

Hangga't nararamdaman ko ang pagmamahal ng Diyos at ng aking pamliya...

Hangga't wala akong ginagawang masama...

Hangga't malinis ang aking hangarin...

Hangga't hindi ko tinatapakan ang kapwa ko para umangat...

Hangga't may paninindigan ako sa aking desisyon...

Hangga't may mga taong naniniwala sa aking kakayahan...

Hangga't napapasaya ko sila...

Hangga't may boses akong nagagamit para isigaw ang laman ng isip ko...

Deadma ako sa sey niyo tungkol sa aking pagkatao.

Eto lang ang masasabi ko sa inyo...

Wa-i akong care kung 'di niyo ako gusto...

Pati na rin sa inyong kuro-kuro.

Ang tanong?

Papansinin ko ba kayo?

(Basahin si Melanie dito.)

[Technical Musings] Stopping Hate Begins With Us by Rocky

2010-11-30T10:37:00.000+08:00

Lesbian & Gay Pride (185) - 28Jun08, Paris (France) by philippe leroyer via Flickr.

It's the second ever theorgy blogging day with the theme of "Discrinate, Not. Given the last theory was back in September and was about coming out, it's about time for another of these. I'm all for supporting the local LGBT blogosphere, or whatever you want to call it.

Discrimination - tricky topic when you get down to it. It's always easy to claim that someone is discriminating against you, but how often do you realize you're discriminating yourself? It's that nasty flip to the situation that we I feel we need to bring to the table as part of this theorgy.

Not bad, eh?

In this context, there are two general categories for discrimination - the external and the internal, for lack of better terminology. Ugh, I'm sounding so textbook right now, I apologize.

External Discrimination, at least from my perspective, refers to those people outside of LGBT circles who espouse messages of hate of exclusion against queers around the world. So you know who I'm talking about in this regard - Republicans, the Roman Catholic Church, and all those other cool cats we love to hate. You're probably going to see a large number of them staging a protest against the LGBT Pride March on December 4.

But that's not what I really want to talk about here.

Lesbian & Gay Pride (172) - 28Jun08, Paris (France) by philippe leroyer via Flickr.

Internal Discrimination is what I feel to be far worse than anything those bigots out there can throw at us. It's when members of the community get into the same acts of discrimination we fight against not just against others but against our fellow homosexuals. And yes, we all know this happens a lot. And you'd think that we as an oppressed minority would learn to be more accepting and understanding, in order to not further the injustice of discrimination we experience. But we don't - the sad realities of our human limitations.

It starts small, if we were to trace the origins of this sad behavior. A good example would be how LGBT personal ads that set all these requirements against only wantingstraight-acting guys, muscular guys, or whatever. Sure, we're entitled to be picky and we can chose to get together with guys of a certain type, if that's really your thing. I can't guarantee you'll find love that way since the physical attributes usually don't mean anything about who they are as people. The irony is that the guys who want straight-acting guys tend to be amazingly effeminate themselves, but I digress.

However when this kind of thinking creeps into general life, then it becomes very wrong. Case in point - a acquaintance of ours commented that he felt it was so wrong to have such "freaks" representing the community at the Pride March, which was one of the most horrid things I had ever heard. Instead of talking about him wanting to participate and represent the best of the community, he choses to stay at home and complain that he somehow doesn't approve of his fellow LGBT brothers and sisters.

And it doesn't end there - there are the kind of gay guys who don't want to associate with the overly flamboyant or effeminate since they're still in the closet but to the point that it's already offensive and hurtful. Just because you hang out with gay people doesn't make you gay - I think the world has figured this out. And thus hanging out with fellow queers will not out you! The only thing that really outs you is your own behavior, which tends to be rather flamboyant in its own right.

Or there are those that claim that you're "not gay enough". The ones that feel if you don't speak in fluent swardspeak or don't totally love Mariah or whichever female diva you're still holding on to, then you don't "deserve" to be gay. What's up with that?

The point is, the LGBT community is amazingly diverse and colorful. I'm not saying you need to be able to fall in love with just about anyone else. I'm not even saying you need to be friends with everyone else. But you do need to learn to respect each person for his or her uniqueness. You need to see the wonders and beauty in what makes each of us unique and amazing and special and fabulous and all that jazz. You can't end hate if you yourself practice it and support it and let it propagate. Then what?

So get off your high horse and learn to see the infinite wonders that make up the LGBT nation. Stop the hate.

(Check Rocky here.)

-Put the D in discriminate- by Justin

2010-11-30T10:34:00.000+08:00

You're not homosexual enough if you haven't heard of Avenue Q... Listen...

Discrimination, racism, being judgemental, call it however you wanted to call it, it might be just a lighter or a harsher version of prejudice. Everyone is a little bit racist. I am. I tend to choose people who I hang out with, I tend to seclude those people who doesnt deserve my attention. I mean i dont pass judgements based on superficial things like skin color or the likes but I base my observation rather through how a person acts. I know, very paradoxical, considering I am an agent of human rights and utilitarianism. You'll get what I'm saying when you get to wear my shoes.

How is this related to http://theorg-y.blogspot.com/ project number 2? Bueno, I believe the frequent suicide of homosexual teens in the US smashed some sort of a bell in every homosexual human's head. It served as an alert signal that homosexual discrimination and bullying should stop. Im pretty sure you have seen youtube videos of people with a tag line "It gets better." If you have, then you are well aware that this global gay phenomena is happening.

Homosexual discrimination. I would personally be mad at you if you haven't heard of slavery, genocide, ethnocide and infanticide. They are branches of prejudice that includes death, lots and lots of death. To say the least, homosexual discrimination is actually a lighter version of these enumerated things.

Where is this post heading to? I wanted to give my condolences to the family who lost those teenagers because of homosexual discrimination. As harsh as it sounds, I would tell their children that they should not have done that. Homosexual discrimination happens. Should we accept it? NO! That is why I am so glad that things like this effective projects exists! It spreads awareness that strong homosexual people walks and will be dominating this earth! And we are not just shutting our mouths, we are collaborating to abolish the reign of patriarchy. Yes it would take time. REALITY CHECK! How long til buses were integrated? How long til African-Americans were allowed to be on tv? How long until Filipino immigrants were accepted abroad? It took years of movements and incidents to make these things socially accepted. And for homosexuality to be added to the list of norms, Im not too sure when but it would sure take long.

So, for every homosexual human being that will be able to read this post. Good luck to us and stay strong! Stay strong until the time when all gay people will be socially, spiritually and politically accepted. Who knows when? You might not know, tommorow, later, the next next day? Even I do not know. But one thing is for sure, there is hope that our dream society of equality, peace and love will surely come true. We all just have to wait a little while and be strong. Go for the gold, I mean rainbow!

Much love

(check his blog here.)

The Battle for Sexuality by Tobie

2010-11-30T10:29:00.000+08:00

I hate the fact that many don't understand the real meaning of being bisexual. Or at least many here in the Philippines intentionally misuse the term for their own purposes. For those who don't know what I mean, allow me this chance to explain. Bisexuality is more than just a gay guy who happens to have dated a woman in the past. Bisexuality is also more than just a gay guy who happens to act masculine. Bisexuality is definitely more than just a guy who is confused or in denial and is too afraid to embrace the term gay.

But sadly, and I speak about the gay circles in the Philippines, those misconceptions are more often than not believed to be truths. I have met people who insist that they are bisexual because many years back they actually dated a woman at one point in time. There have been encounters with groups that call themselves bisexual groups, a definition that they mis-appropriately believe applies to them simply because they avoid all the visible cosmetic, stylistic and audible cues that categorize a person as homosexual. And sad but true, there have been those whom I have met who are quite frankly gayer than a rainbow unicorn in heels who insist with a straight face that they are bisexual and don't understand why people assume they are gay.

And born from the corruption of the term is the blanket injustice of many claiming bisexuality does not exist. The term bisexual has been wrongly equated by many to be the clearest sign of a person being homophobic of oneself and afraid of simply embracing the g word.

I am more than just infidelity, damn it.

Even worse, in the Philippines, the closest local term to refer to a bisexual is silahis, which actually translates to "a married guy who sleeps with men."  So rather than just in denial, bisexual is horribly defined as "a specific form of infidelity." Ugh.

But no matter how many choose to exploit the term bisexual, its true meaning deserves to be understood, accepted and embraced.

I am a bisexual.
And I remain proud to be one.
I have always been one. And I will always be one.
I am not in a phase. I am not in denial.
And I am damned sure I am not the only one.

Our three official symbols.
Why do I say I am one?  It isn't because of the fact I don't like wearing cosmetics or women's clothing. It has nothing to do with the fact that I have no illusions of seeing myself as a woman trapped in a man's body. It is not because most people would have trouble accepting the fact that I am not straight, even if my manner of moving, the intonations of my speech, or my choice of clothing would support the idea that I am a guy, and a geeky guy at that. It does somewhat stem from the fact I have had girlfriends in the past (including one I already had dreams of getting engaged with at one point in time) but that's just part of the reason. And it definitely is not because I am afraid of being identified or called gay. I have come out to my parents and to the world.  I am proud and out in my many blogs, on my facebook account, and in each day of my life. In fact, I embrace the term "gay" since the term does officially encapsulate anything that is not straight.

What makes me clearly identify myself as bisexual is knowledge that in all the times that I have fallen in love with someone, and by love I mean felt an emotional connection with another person that includes sexual attraction, intellectual stimulation and an emotional bond, it never mattered to me if that person was a man or a woman. The other person's gender was never a factor.

"Impossible!" some would declare, "To fall in love with another, regardless if that person had a dick or a pussy? How is that possible even?"

But that's just how it really is for me. In my life, I've learned that my reciprocity of another person's passions was lot hindered by a person's sex. I have found myself completely engaged in women just as much as in men, with only the individual's personality being a key factor if I were to try to decide who do I like more.

I have heard of what most naysayers proclaim: Surely, there is one I lean more towards. Surely, if I perfer men more, I should be gay and not bisexual. Or gay but in denial. But what does it mean if I prefer women more? Am I straight but pretending?

Ultimately, however, with my own experiences as evidence, I have come to understand my bisexuality as being able to love another person regardless of the person's sex. And if given a choice between a man and a woman, my answer would be: Well I'd choose whoever between the two I did love more.

"But what if you loved them equally? Absolutely equally in all accounts? Who would you choose?"

In all honesty, if such an unlikely scenario occurred, my answer would be, "Both."

A few weeks back, I got into an argument while chatting with one of my gay friends.  We were discussing about the strange need of people to define everything when out of the blue, my friend declared, "What I hate the most is the term bisexual. It doesn't exist. No one can ever really love a man or a woman. Everyone who ever claimed to be bisexual is actually simply someone in denial about his being gay."

Had I never had my Jedi training, my friend would have felt me reach through the internet connection, wrap the projected tendrils of force around his neck, then pull him closer to smash his face against the screen. Not exist? I don't exist!?! I sarcastically reminded him that he was talking to a non-existent being, and rather than realize he had touched a nerve, the guy simply continued, "Not anymore right? I mean, you are seeing a guy now. So you've accepted you're gay."
Maybe you're all bisexuals in denial.
EXCUSE ME? Get it in your head, boy. Who I am dating does not define my gender. Who I sleep with does not define my sexuality. If that were true, then prisons are homosexual factories, considering how many men end up getting banged in the ass in there. But clearly, the act is not the same as the identity of a person. Not every gay guy who gets drunk and ends up messing around with a girl is bisexual. They're just drunk and horny. And likely a tad curious. But bisexual? Please.
If all it took was an act, then being gay is just an alternate form of rape.
Clearly, that's not the case.
After all these years of harping the need for the world to accept and recognize that homosexual men and women exist, I find it terribly sad that the same group would be so clearly willing to do the same thing that they have long marched and chanted and pushed against: Discrimination.  Being gay has been equated as a disease, as a phase, as a form of insanity... and for years there has been a push to understand it more as either a choice, or either as a card that life hands you regardless of what you wanted. Why can't the same thing be seen to apply to being bisexual? Or even being heterosexual?
Equality for all.
That includes bisexuals, you know.
Has the need to find acceptance been confused with wanting to blanketly call the world gay and just in denial?
And do we bisexuals need to have our own stonewall incident happen before we too are no longer discriminated by our fellow non-straight friends?

I am bisexual.

And I am loyal to my partner. Just because I find men and women attractive doesn't mean I am unable to keep myself aware of my own decisions. Infidelity is not the defining trait of one's gender. So why should bisexuality be confused as such.

Here's hoping within my lifetime a greater and more intelligence acceptance of bisexuality happens.
Like every one else, after all, we only want to be recognized and accepted as equals.

(You can view his post and his blog here.)

pride and prejudice by yosoy richie

2010-11-30T10:25:00.000+08:00

it may not seem obvious, pero mahirap maging bading. we've always been stereotyped as screaming or flambouyant and at the same time immoral and improper. i have never actually been subjected to discrimination, but just being gay makes us a target. siguro i'm just grateful that if ever someone would attack me because my sexuality, i would know how to defend myself. subukan lang nila. but i think it's still sad that some of us are being persecuted by simply being true to himself. there are even countries which would sentence a man to death when convicted of being a homosexual. dito sa pinas, as much as we are tolerated, society still have that notion that we'd always end up lonely at walang magmamahal satin ng totoo. minsan nga para lang hindi awkward tawanan ko na rin lang. pero masakit parin. i think no matter what we do society will never really understand us the way we appreciate ourselves. nakakalungkot. siguro yun na rin ang dahilan kung bakit kami tatanda ng magisa. maybe if given the chance, we could prove to everybody that we are no different to our heterosexual counterparts and could live a happy marriage. pero personally, i respect the fact that society is not ready to accept that. sana lang mabigyan din lahat ng bading ng parehong respeto. hindi naman dahil nagbibihis babae ang iba ay may psychologigal disorder na. o kaya naman dahil parlorista ang itsura ay dapat nang bastusin. pati na rin yung mga nagtatago o mga closet gays are subjects of malicious gossips. sana wala nang ganito. tao rin naman kami. minsan nga mas nakakaintindi pa kami. kaya siguro, until the time comes when society opens up her arms to us entirely, iintindihin na lang namin.

(check his blog here.)

Read Me Next Week

2010-11-23T11:44:00.000+08:00

One week from now, November 29, discrimination ends.

Or so we hope.

And even it does not, the second theorgy project on discrimination against gays will.

For all ye faithful, we look forward to receiving your posts.

Spread the love. Stop the hate.

Discriminate, Not.

2010-10-31T02:03:00.000+08:00

DOES IT ACTUALLY GET BETTER?

So you are not immoral?

Is legislation enough?

Or let us just not be bakla na lang?

Or bathhouse-hopping?

Discrimination happens to us – that’s you with an s.

It is as palpable as bad smog lingering on your shirt neck for days. It is just as riveting as being ostracized by your fellow bakla. While discrimination is a huge issue, it has angles, corners, facets, shades of grey. So it is what these sisters are offering us on a plate from Mondo – discrimination and your blog about it.

While it does take a while to take that big stain of our world's beautiful face, we can already do much even with a little scrubbing.

Deadline is November 29.

Publishing here on November 30.

And maybe no more than 700 words? Unless you can convince Mandaya yours is a show-stopper.

Email us your post - theorgyblog@gmail.com

(Now we need a good graphic to go with this project. Ideas, anyone? We'll give you a good head if you come up with one.)

I AM NOT YOUR CONCEPT - theorgy tease 102

2010-10-27T15:59:00.001+08:00

The sisters have been away ever since that Iraq files got leaked. Somebody need to teach those bobbies a lesson.

Now that we have dusted off the last of them dried American sweat, we are now at that fold where everybody simply had to talk about this:

DISCRIMINATION.

First, they raided Queeriosity. And then those scandals involving Catholic priests and unknowing young altar boys. And of course, not to mention the endless hate crimes against us here, there and everywhere.

Something has to be said. And somebody has to make a stand. And we ain't doing it without a flair.

The announcement will be out this week, our deadline next month.

If somebody or something needs to be buried this time, it is discrimination.

Theorgy Tease 001

2010-09-11T10:48:00.001+08:00

If I invite a boy some night
To dine on my fine Finnan Haddie
I just adore, his asking for more
But my heart belongs to Daddy

Or you could say: belonged.

Those who are viciously in love right now can snuck away their posts as the October edition of theorgy will not be about that.

But this:

As you chew/cringe/chastise on this, please await more details.

And forget it's Beyonce. Please.

LABASAN NA! (updated at 11:45 PM, September 5)

2010-09-05T23:45:00.000+08:00

They all came for theorgy.

All fifty of them

coming

one

after

the other.

The Third Groupies

Baklang AJ.
Carrie.
Jay.
Mr. Hush Hush.
Robert, the not so typical gay.
Soltero.
Toffer.

The Second Groupies

Adam.

Baklang Maton.
Corporate Closet.

Daredevilry.

Desole Boy.
Edgar Portalan.
Gibbs Cadiz.

Jericho.
jimsimon.

John Stanley.

Kiks.
Lord Fernandez.

Lyka Bergen.

Mcvie.

Miguel.
Ms. Chuniverse.
Mugen.

PJ.

Rocky.

Tobie.

The ZEN Bitch.

The First Groupies

Bobby Barbecho.
Boss Becky.
Buquir.
Cursedgoodblessing at 27.
Dean.
Echoserita.
Ex Jason.
Fickle Cattle.
Jaytee.
Justin.
Lee.
Mandaya Moore.
Manila Raunch.
Mel Beckham.
Melanie.
Nimmy.
Red The Mod.
Richie.
Takeshi.
Thomasian Psychologist.
Von Draye.

Isang round pa nga....

oh and yes, you can click on the names of the 48 bloggers here so you can go straight to their posts here at theorgy.

and so they say.. Birds of the same feather flock together (My Coming OUT Story) by Mr. Hush Hush

2010-09-05T23:39:00.001+08:00

by Mr. Hush Hush

This post may be a bit late, but still I want to contribute my coming OUT story (Theorg-y's collective blogging event).

I was a hermit when I was a kid. I literally spend my days waking up, going to school, go back home, doing homework and sleep. My mama was afraid to let me loose around our neighborhood, thinking I might be influenced by bad people (drinking, smoking and drugs), which I later learned I was thankful for as I never developed these vices in me. The best way I spent my free time was reading books, and guess what I was reading?? hehehehe Sweet Valley Twins (bongga!) hahahaha I got hold of a book by Francine Pascal and from that day forward, I loved how 2 identical sisters, though physical similar, were ultra-different on the outside.. and lo-and-behold, I can relate to Lily, the spoiled rich brat and best friend of Jessica (Elizabeth was too good for me then). I then learned to love the color purple, the color of royalty, and unicorn was officially my favorite animal and club! hahahahaaha Eventually, I evolved from Twins, to Sweet Valley High and then to SV University and believe me, I was saving up from my allowance to buy the latest edition of these books, all neatly arranged in my bookshelf, with plastic covers (done by my Mama, I didn't know how to then).

I recall when we we were in grade 4, me and my bestfriend transformed our pencil cases into mini-houses, rooms with sofas, tvs, people made out of paper. While everyone was playing ball out in the sun, we were contented with our own world inside the classroom, didn't want to be exposed under the heat of the sun. Even one of our barkadas had with him a facial wash, pond's I think (take note that circa 1992, facial wash were associated with females, there were no Nivea for men back then as an excuse to be vain), and he religiously goes to the bathroom to wash him pimply face, to avoid it becoming 'oily'. hahahaha kulang nalang magpayong kami, but of course, we were afraid of the prejudices that might be thrown our way, even if we wanted to! hahahaha

We were enrolled in an exclusive school (meaning, all boys!) and I guess by the time we got to secondary education, most of our batchmates knew we were a little bit different, we had our tender ways, so to speak.. and this led me to worry that my little brother (who was enrolled at the same school) might give me away to my parents. I was terrified with the idea that I might be disowned, disinherited ng mana (again yabang lang!). So I decided to talk to my brother. This transpired at our room:

Me: Bro, can I talk to you?

Bro: bout what, kuya?

Me: Well, you know, I've been meaning to tell you something.. You know G**, right?

Bro: Yup he's the cousin of my classmate why?

Me: Hmmm... Well I hang out with him and with O*#@* (and I named a few of my barkadas).. well.. I just want to tell you *gulp*... that I'm gay..

Bro: I know.

Me: (a bit shocked - I really thought I was masking myself well around my family) How'd you know?

Bro: imo barkada mga bayot bya..

Me: Are you mad?

Bro: No, I understand. It's the life you choose... Just don't talk to me about your boyfriends! hahahaahaha

Needless to say, I was relieved! It felt good that somehow I opened up to my little bro. Up to this day, I'm thankful that he has accepted me as I am and this made us closer (you can only imagine our 'wars' at home before). Now, I'm even appreciative that he seeks my opinion on the girl he's currently dating..

But I'm not yet ready to open up to my parents.. really. Even now that I am successful in life and probably can manage on my own, I still can't and maybe won't. I'm afraid that my Mama will have a cardiac arrest if she knows, and I just can't bear that thought.. hay. such drama.. maybe.. maybe someday.. but at the back of my mind, she probably knows. Maybe if she'll ask.. but really, I don't know.. I'll cross the bridge when I get there.

Well, honey's bugging me already to finish this off.. Bonding time na daw. hihihihi

Hush hush for now, hushkins *

napaaga ang pag-amin ni toffer

2010-09-04T16:36:00.000+08:00

ni toffer

lumaki ako na wala ang nanay ko sa tabi ko, she worked as a nurse abroad. every year 1 month ko lang syang nakakasama for her vacation break. kadalasan din na wala si papa dahil busy sya sa pag-eenjoy with his barkada kaya yung yaya ko lang yung nakakasama ko.

lumaki akong sweet and thoughtful sa mga taong nasa paligid ko. malamya kumilos, vain at very talkative sa klase.

nung nasa 4th yr college na ako, nagretire na si mama.

since then, hindi kami laging magkasundo, lagi kaming nag-aaway. di ko sya masisisi, at di ko rin pwedeng sisihin ang sarili ko.

alam kong lumaki ako na wala sya dahil din sa amin. para di ako maghirap pag laki ko. para makapag-aral ako sa mga bonggang schools, magkaroon ako ng mga gadgets, at lahat din ng luho ko.

wala kami nung sinasabing strong foundation, nung bond.

masasabi kong hindi kaila sa kanila na hindi ako straight.

ngunit tulad ng iba, hindi din namin pinag-uusapan yun.

***

nalaman ko after graduation na hindi nila ako tunay na anak.

opo, adopted ako. at dun ko din nalaman na ang tunay kong papa eh yung kapatid nung papa ko na nagpalaki saken.

okay na sana yun kaso dala ng menopausal ni mama, araw araw na talaga kami kung mag bangayan.

***

1st yr college ako nung nagsimula akong magrebelde.

naadik ako sa sigarilyo, every after dismissal eh diretso ako sa tambayan at iinom. pag-uwi ko sa bahay, tulog agad. at totoo yung sinasabi sa kanta na ''pag gising sa umaga sermon ang almusal'', yun yung kadalasang mangyari saken.

dumating sa puntong hindi na ako pumapasok sa mga classes ko.

kaya super sumbong yung mga prof at mga c.i. ko ke mama. si mama kasi yung clinical coordinator sa pinapasukan kong college kaya hindi maiiwasang hindi niya malaman yung mga katarantaduhan ko.

pinatawag ako ni mama sa secretary niya.

***

pagpasok sa office,

mama: gago ka!!! bat hindi ka pumapasok sabi nung prof mo?!

ako: (silent mode) para na akong iiyak pero pinipigilan ko, galit ako kay mama nun. alam niya yun. wala akong rason kung bakit ako nagrerebelde at napapabarkada. wala talaga.

mama: oh? ba't hindi ka nagsasalita?

ako: di mo maiintindihan! (kinabog ko mga telenovela nito) sabay tulo ng luha sa right eye.

mama: pano ko maiintindihan kung di ka magsasabi?

ako: BAKLA AKO!!!dun na ako humikbi ng husto..nakita ko kasi syang umiiyak. (wala na akong maisip na idahilan kaya sinabi ko nalang na problema ko yung pagiging bakla ko)

mama: MATAGAL KO NG ALAM, BATA KA PA LANG ALAM KO NA!

ako: super hikbi talaga ako at super iyak din si mama. dun ko narealize na mahal talaga ako ng nanay ko kahit di ko sya kadugo.

mama: OH ANO?AYAW MO NG MAG NURSE? ITATAYO NA LANG KITA NG PARLOR?

ako: iyak habang tumatawa...

***

NALAMAN KO NA NA OKAY NA NUNG..

sa sasakyan pauwi,

PAPA: oh?wala nang problema si biboy?

MAMA: wala na...

AKO: (NAKALUSOT NA AKO SA PAG AABSENT, NAKALUSOT PA AKO SA BAKLA ISSUE!!!) YES!!! SMILE AKO NG SMILE....

PAPA: good boy na sya?

MAMA: GOOD GIRL...:))

*****

ma, hindi man tayo ayos ngayon, nagpapasalamat pa rin ako sa mga pagkakataong pinakita mo sakin na hindi dugo ang batayan ng pagiging mag-ina...

''you may not be my mother by blood, but you used to be my mother by blood''....

i'm sorry and i love you, sana magkaayos na tayo....

*******

sa pag amin ko, naging mas malaya ako

hindi lang sa mga magulang ko, sa mga tao sa paligid ko

pati narin sa sarili ko

****

at dahil sa pag-amin ko

kaya ko nang iharap sa madlang people ang baby ko

kitty kat daw sya..

No way, Not yet. Yes! by Jay The Gardener

2010-09-04T16:35:00.000+08:00

by Jay

(They say its better late than never. Haha. This is my contribution to the Theorgy blog which is about the topic "Coming Out")

OUT?

If I were asked that question, I would have answered it differently on different occasions:

-No way!-

"Baka bakla ka ha?" was what he teasingly said.

"Ulol, no way pj!" was my stern reply.

PJ was my bestfriend in high school. Ours was a weird kind of friendship because we started out as mortal enemies but ended as best of friends. During high school, I was the king of our block during then, in fact, if there were somebody new in the neighborhood, he/she would have to befriend me before he can get into the circle. He was the new guy who came when we were in junior high. At first I really thought that he was "mahangin" (but later found out that I just hated the fact that I was not the first one that he talked to). He was a instant hit with everybody (except me) because he was super cute, knows how to dance and very very charismatic with girls.

Since I thought that he was a threat, I ordered my friends not to befriend him (parang young mafia) to the point of plotting to beat him up. I only changed my plans when one time he suddenly came up to me and asked if we could go home together. From that day on, we grew a lot more closer to each other. We shared stories, we shared laughters and we shared secrets. And yes, we even shared "ejaculation" sessions together. After a month, we grew very close that he would sometimes sleep over at my place and he was already an accepted part of my family.

Since PJ came from a broken family, he was an easy prey. He was a lonely sheep while I was the willing shepherd, he was a lost soul and I was the light at the end of the tunnel., he was often sad and I was his shoulder to cry on. During his sleep-over, nobody in the house knew that we would hug each other tightly and would sleep in each others arms in the dark. He like me to comb his hair with my hands while he goes to sleep and I would like him to softly scratch my back in return. We would do all these things yet nobody wants to talk about it. For him, it was just showing how much we care for each other but for me, it was already my show of love and affection.

One time, I tried to crossed the line. When we were tickling each other, I suddenly pressed my face into his, our lips slightly touching each other. I was surprised i did it but he was even more surprised that something like it happened. In the middle of the night there was silence, the he spoke up:

"Hahaha. Oi kiniss mo ako ha. Yucks! Baka bakla ka ha. Sabihin mo na. Hahaha"

It was my time to be silent. I was deeply contemplating on what to say. Shall I tell him but lose him in return or just keep quiet and regret never to have told him what I feel. My heart was beating very fast at that time. Then I decided...

"Haha. Ulol PJ! No way pare! "

I guess it was the easiest way out.

- Not Yet! -

"When are you ready to do this?" He asked me looking deep into my eyes.

"I don't know" I answered and looked away from him.

We met online on the PlanetRomeo site. My account was direct to the point on who I want to meet and what are the things that I don't like...the things that caught his attention while browsing through hundreds of online users. He is AM and around five years younger than me. At first really thought that we would not hit it off because of the age difference plus the status. I was working as a manager then and he was still a student. Since I never had any outlet from work, I indulge myself in texting with friends (and flirts) from chatrooms and social networking sites. At first he was no exception, I would answer his casual "good mornings" and " how are you's". But after a month, he was the only one remaining among dozens of guys. That is when I decided to focus more on him.

We did not meet or even asked a picture of each other, again, this is one of the many things that my adventurous mind breeds. I told him that i want to know the person rather than the face. And he agreed. We wont on to be exclusive for two months and in those two months I admit that I have grown closer to him. He was the first guy whom I really professed my love. Because of this he was my very first boyfriend.

On the third month we met and to our surprise, we have even grown closer when we met. We were very pleased with the way we look. This was indeed the relationship that I really wanted. Smooth sailing, both parties are in love and of course...it was with another man. We have shared a lot with each other. From aspirations, problems and plans for the future. I was very very in love. But like every relationship, it has its ups and downs. The usual cause of our fights would be his giving so much effort of keeping our relationship private to the point of being so insensitive. It has never been my plan to tell the world that we have a relationship much more be so close to him in public. I am also not that kind of guy. In fact I am discreet...very very discreet. But I am sensitive enough to make sure that I balance things.

One time we had a huge fight because he was mad at me for making a simple comment at his Facebook account. The comment was nothing but "haha. you're funny" but he was paranoid and started saying things to me. This fight went on for days because he would not hear my side. This time, I was also getting tired of it all. We met and decided to talk things over hoping to patch things up. In the middle of our convesation, he asked.

"Okay, if you really want to announce to the whole world that we are an item, I am game! When are you ready to do this?" he asked me looking deep into my eyes. I did not see sincerity but rather mockery.

"I don't know. Not yet" I replied looking away from him.

I answered "Not yet" not because I am not ready but because I realized that he was not worth it...not worth of me going out!

The next day we broke sadly up.

"Yes!"

I really do not think that the time would come that I will say this word if I would be asked if I am ready to go out. Not until...

I will no longer be afraid to hurt my parents, friends and family.

I will be ready to face the mockery of the people around me.

And I can find the real person worthy of the decision.

That I can really say,

Yes! I am gay and I am proud of it!"

My Coming Out Story by The Not So Typical Gay Robert

2010-09-04T16:30:00.000+08:00

by Robert, the not so typical gay
I guess I’m not the first one to do this but I believe it’s my time to share my own story, my own “coming out” story. I’m actually at work right now doing this because in the past few days, my boss might’ve forgotten to give me and my teammates directives. I fear disturbing her because she seems too busy to be bugged. Well anyway, let’s start the story.

Like other gay guys, I am not totally out of the closet. My friends, especially the close and the closest guys are the only ones who know about it. They even told me that they already knew about my orientation long before I outed myself to them. Some of my workmates don’t even know about me being gay not until I burst out and say “uy, may pogi oh!” in between meals. My family is mum about it but I’m pretty sure they already know. Perhaps it’s just something that needs not to be discussed anymore, something that would already be there “by default”.

I was in first year college then when I started feeling curious about the way I feel. Yes, when I was in High School, I used to hook up with girls and most of them even find me very gentleman-ish, very different from the kind of boys we had in our school. One day I went to this internet café (I still couldn’t afford to have my own PC) to check my friendster account. I checked the list of the people who recently viewed me then I noticed this guy I’m not familiar with. I still couldn’t tell if he’s pogi or not because I still didn’t have that kind of radar before. Kumbaga, choppy pa ang signal ng aking gaydar. I tried to open his profile and I saw this banner. It was G4M’s banner. Salarin talaga tong G4M na toh. Since I already had this feeling of being curious about the way I feel towards the same sex, out of curiosity, I enlisted myself in the said social networking site for gay guys. Only then I realized I wasn’t alone. There are a lot of other guys there who would want to be with another guy. All along I thought I was alone, that my feelings weren’t normal. At times I’d even think perhaps what I was feeling is something a normal guy would go through in this certain stage of life. After registering, I didn’t know how to navigate the website that much yet although it wasn’t really hard to learn to do so. Then I started posting pictures of me (when I still payat and gusgusin back then) and I continued checking out the site. After refreshing the page, I was surprised by this alert I got . Then I realized somebody sent me a message.

“Atenista?” the message wrote.
“How did you know?” I surprisingly replied. I thought he knew me by face.
“Uniform mo. By the way, I’m ****”

Ambobo ko talaga. I forgot I was wearing my uniform in that profile picture I posted. So I opened his profile and checked his pictures. I found him good-looking because he look a lot like that guy who always passes by our classroom in one of our classes. We got to knowing each other then we exchanged digits and started communicating frequently. Time came when we decided to meet up. Good thing it was the enrollment period at school so I had a reason to go out of the house without my mom interrogating me too much. When I met him, he didn’t look a lot like what I expected but he was cool enough for me to say “he’s fine”. Our meet ups became more frequent after that episode. Only then did I realize I was slowly falling for him. My classmates started noticing my blooming aura. They said I looked happier than before and that something looked different in me. Then I told them I was in love. They felt kilig and all yet they felt kinda shocked when I told them I was in love with a guy.

The love story didn’t turn out to be good. I experienced my first major heartache with my first homo love. It left me crippled for so long that it kept me from opening myself up to other guys who were willing to help me stand up again. Since I didn’t have that much gay friends, couldn’t find somebody I could confide to who would understand what I was going through. It took my almost 2 years before I tried opening the gates of my golden heart again. I continued living life and I started opening up more to my friends about my renewed lifestyle. Like I said, most of them told me they already knew that I was gay long before I told them about my preference. They told me that, yes, I was very straight-acting yet they could tell sby some of the gestures and expressions I make which made them doubt me. As I was trying to make myself used to this "life", it became somewhat a challenge for me to open up myself to people I recently meet. It would take me time before I come out because I don’t want people to start isolating themselves from me after knowing about my orientation.

Now that I’m all grown up, yes, I still have those kinds of heartaches, something similar to the time I first fell in love with a guy. I learned to flirt and be flirted, I learned how to be numb if needed. I also started getting used to opening up to people. Some of the girls even tell me “Nung nakilala kita, crush pa naman sana kita. Kaso bading ka pala” which does flatter me to a certain extent. Some don’t even have the slightest freakin’ idea until I say something that would shock them. I could remember my first coming out statement months back after my promotion and transfer to a different department:

Girl: Uy, they say ang pogi mo daw.
Robert: correction, maganda toh, MAGANDA!

That left her in awe.

I’ve grown-up to be that butterfly (so gay!!) that I didn’t really expect to be. I’ve grown from being naïve to being equipped. Although not yet fully, but enough to keep me strong. I still like being the guy that I am because everyone loves me for who and what I am. My straight guy friends even like me more now that I’m very open about being who I am. Most of those guys even love talking to me especially in drinking session because they find me more “sensible” compared to other guys. I get along well with girls because I have a taste for music, fashion and boys which is very usual for somebody like me. I also get along well with boys because I have this fascination for video games, action movies, guns, and other guy stuff. That’s why one of my friends quoted me as a “not-so typical gay guy”. Hence, Robert, your not-so typical gay guy has been born.

xoxo

Much Love

To ALL Late-Cummers

2010-09-03T21:18:00.000+08:00

The brotherhood of theorgy has just consulted with us sisters:

Are we going to let you late-cummers in?

Without taking off anything, we said: yes.

All you need to do --

a) Post that entry.
b) Put the Coming Out logo on your post.
c) Email us at theorgyblog@gmail.com the link to your post.

Now clean up and write.

Jennifer, Jennifer - Nasan Ka? ni Carrie

2010-09-03T11:35:00.002+08:00

ni Carrie

Guys, may ikukumpisal ako sa inyo."

Anticipated silence.

"I'm a gay."

Bumigay na ako sa pressure. Lasing ako nun, nakayuko, at tila tulalang nag-aantay ng dramtic cue kay Direk. Kasalanan ko naman, di ko maipakilala si "Jennifer", ang nagkukunwaring girlfriend na sa totoong buhay ay bakla din pala. Masyadong inconsistent ang mga kwento ko tungkol sa amin. Maraming loopholes. At madalas nilang nakikitang kasama ko ay hombre kesa merlat. Tuwing sumasama ako sa tagayan, di maiiwasang mapag-usapan ang ganitong mga bagay. Sa inuman, ang pulutan ay sex, love life, at kung si ganito ba ay bakla.

Pag nagkakayayaang mag-inuman, iwas na iwas na ako sa usaping relasyon. Sa paksang sex, nagkukunwari akong may karanasan, samantalang ang mga sinasabi ko ay nababasa ko lang sa xerex, sa wiki, at sa porn.

Bakit gusto nila akong hulihin? Bakit ayaw kong magpahuli?

Ang tao ay likas na mapagtanong. Kumbaga, usisero. Tsismoso. Hehe. Sa barkadang purong lalaki, di maiiwasan ang spekulasyon sa isang katoto na may kakaibang kinikilos. Bakit wala ka pang girlfriend? Sino kasama mo nung isang araw? Sino kausap mo sa telepono at bakit kayo nagsisigawan? Bakit madalas kayong magkasama ni ganito?

Mga tanong na di mamatay-matay pag di mo sinagot. At pag sinagot mo naman, may follow-up. At sasagutin mo ito ng isa pang kasinungalingan. Syempre, ikaw, mapipilitan kang humabi ng isang ginantsilyong kwento tungkol sa love life mo na hindi totoo. At pag nagkamali ka ng sulsi, lagot na ang kabuuan ng iyong piyesa.

Nung nalaman na ng barkada ko ang totoo, givenchy na ang acceptance.

"Tol, tanggap ka pa rin namin."

"Ayos lang yan. Barkada ka pa rin."

"Baka sa susunod naka-damit pambabae ka na ha." Naman. Di ko magagawa yan, kahit winish kong kasing hubog ko si Venus Raj at suot-suot ko ang mga sinuot nya sa Ms Universe, hanggang imahinasyon na lang ang ganyang pagtatangka.

"Alam na namin, hinihintay ka lang naming umamin." Tignan mo, talagang mamamatay lang ang alab ng pag-usisa pag inamin mo na sa kanila. Syempre, hindi pa natatapos dyan, iku-kwento mo pa sa kanila yung totoo. Syempre, parehong storya, iniba lang ang karakter. Ise-share ko na rin sana yung nagaganap sa kama, kaya lang ayaw nilang marinig. LOL.

Bakit ayaw kong magpahuli sa kanila? Ayokong magpahuli, kasi andun pa yung takot ko na mag-iiba ang tingin sa akin ng barkada. Baka isipin nilang niloloko ko sila, o kaya may lihim na pagtingin sa isa sa kanila at nagkukunwaring maging bahagi ng barkada para makasama sa mga inuman. Pero sa panahon ngayon, bukas na ang utak at kamalayan ng tao sa kabaklaan.

Nirirespeto nila ang kasarian ko, pero kung sinusuportahan nila ang mga ginagawa ko, hindi ko masabi. Basta, nandun yung mungkahi nilang maging ligtas ako sa mga "chorva" ko.

Dating nagkukuwari akong maging butch sa inuman; ngayon pwede na kong maging ako sa kanila. Hindi naman ako malambot na malambot, o nagtutumili habang kausap sila, pero malaya akong magbiro at gumamit ng gay lingo nang hindi napagdududahang bakla. Kasi alam nilang galing sa bakla. Meron pa nga sa kanila, umaasang magbabalik-loob ako. Natutuwa ako na may kaibigan akong busilak ang intensyon nila para sa akin. Ewan ko kung hindi pa rin nila matanggap ang tungkol sa akin. I think they still believe that someday I'll have a change of heart. Matagal na akong pusong mamon eh.

Matapos ng aking pag-amin, iba naman ang pinuntirya nilang lumabas. Na para bang may misyon silang ilabas ang lahat ng bakla sa barkada. Haha.

In To Be Out by Baklang AJ

2010-09-03T11:35:00.000+08:00

By Baklang AJ

[Note: Like Gibbs and CC, I also forgot to sign up for the collective blogging event. I was planning to sign up and begin writing my post, but I was stuck in Pililla, Rizal during the long weekend - without Internet for three days! So here I am, posting about my coming out story. Better late than pregnant, I guess.]

My coming out story from Life’s a Beach, I’m a Bitch:

----------------------------------------

Christmas of 2005:

I took 5 days of Vacation Leave from work. I booked a trip to Davao to spend Christmas with my family. I somehow am already tired of family gatherings and parties, but this year, I wanted to go back home and tell my parents who I really am.

The days before Christmas Eve were extremely long as I was spending time with old friends, catching up on our lives. All those days were extremely longer as I was looking for a window of opportunity to come out to my folks.

Coming out is not easy. And you can never be too prepared.

We ate dinner around 8PM and I decided to go back up to my room. I just wanted to lie down, watch TV and wait for midnight. (I guess I’m too old for Christmas. I don’t really feel that sort of excitement children have – waiting for midnight to open the gifts up, then go out and play with other children.) Midnight came and went, but I was asleep. I did not get to do the traditional Christmas Midnight Noche Buena. But it did not matter.

When I got up, I carefully planned in my mind how I would tell my folks about me. Everytime I came out to someone, I made sure I broke it to them gently.

Since it was the 25th of December and the Metro Manila Film Festival Philippines already started, I quickly came up with a grand plan.

Mano Po 4: Ako Legal Wife was the only movie I planned on watching during this season’s film fest. I knew that there existed a character named Hamilton Chong (played by John Prats), a closeted gay man. This, I knew, should set the pace for me.

After the film, I brought them to Blugre Cafe (there is no Starbucks in Davao, and Blugre is the next best thing). My older brother and I brought our laptops and did some stuff for work there. The cafe had free wifi access (yes there is wifi in Davao!).

I was chatting with my boyfriend [insert ex's name] over ym. Then I went on to open his friendster account and view his pictures. My mom was curiously looking at my monitor. Then she asked who were in the pictures. “My Friends”, I quipped.

Less than five minutes later, I showed her one of Ex-boyfriend’s pix and told her that the guy was my “uyab”. Uyab is the bisaya androgynous term for BF/GF/Lover, just like the Filipino NOBYO and KASINTAHAN.

“That’s a guy.”

“Yes, he is a guy. His name’s [insert ex's name] and he’s currently in New York.”

“So you’re gay?”

“Yes, I am.”

smiles

“There he is.” I then clicked on Ex-boyfriend’s webcam window

Mom pinches my cheeks, smiling

It was that simple. No complications. She asked me a lot of questions about my bf and my life and about the “close friend” I always hung out with some two to three years ago. I told her that yes, HE was my boyfriend. Then she dropped her bomb.

“Oh, I see. I knew it.”

Then she went on smiling. My mom wears her heart on her sleeve, and I knew that she was happy. She still is. My brothers who were there just looked at HAN’s pics. My brother then made this funny remark: “So, naglaladlad ka na pala. Parang Ako Legal Wife.” Something of that sort. We all laughed.

And that was the end of it.

I am OUT and Proud.

I just wish it was THIS easy for everyone of us. I guess I’m just lucky that I have a family like mine. We may not be emotionally open amongst ourselves, but we sure stand by each other through thick and thin.

It’s IN to be OUT!

i had no choice by Soltero

2010-09-03T11:20:00.000+08:00

by Soltero

(coming out of the closet)

Things were getting so complicated. It was a tangled web were in. I was beginning to like him, and she was starting to scare me with her phone calls and text messages. I was falling for Todd, Riza was falling for me.

Magkakaibigan kami. Magba barkada.

Todd is married to Joan.

Riza to Abet.

Married pa rin sila til now.

Ako naman, binata pa rin.

I guess sa sobrang closeness naming lima before, na halos every weekend magkakasama kami, something was bound to happen. Sa sobra kong mapagbiro and sobrang pa charming (haha) di ko alam nadevelop na pala sa akin si Riza. Kaya pala everytime I tease her, lagi na lang parang galit at madaling mapikon . One day, she called me up. She told me something that was wuite shocking - she said that she's in love with me and she wants us to be an item. Napa What? and OMG ako. Kaso ang tanga ko, I knew it wasn't right and I knew di kami pwedeng dalawa. But I can't tell her di pwede kasi I didn't want her to get hurt. Aside from her being married, di ko rin sya type.

Kasi ang type ko...

Si Todd. Yung isa naming kabarkada na married ke Joan. Ang cute kasi nya, at first wala lang saken, barkada tlaga. Kaso one time nag karaoke kami, I sang "Say That You Love Me", bigla syang nakipag duet. Tapos everytime na kinakanta ko na yung song , ayun lagi sumasabay. Hello! lumambot puso ko. Ayun, di na sya mawala sa isip ko. I tell him that i love him in my dreams na after that! bwahahaha...

I knew where I stand as regards Todd. kaya i tried real hard to keep it within me at first. Pero mabaliw baliw ako sa kanya that time. Whenever I had the chance to go and visit him, Ispend time sa bahay nila. I don't know if they had sensed something peculiar. When the feeling was too much to bear, I told Todd how I felt about him. he didn't seem to mind it, but he did not encourage it. Parang wala lang. Basta nandyan lang ako, andyan lang sya. We're just friends, nothing more than that.

But Riza was different. She was adamant. "Whatever Riza wants, Riza gets" was her mantra. Sa sobrang di na nya mapigilan ang feelings nya, nahahalata na ng husband nya. She was always so happy when i'm around. When i leave, her mood will change. Kapag wala ako sa lakad, siya ang tumatawag at pilit na pinapa punta ako. Kaya nung sobra na obvious na ni Abet, he confronted us.

Naipit ako between Scylla and Charybdis.

One day when i was at their house having dinner, Abet suddenly brought up the topic. He asked us if there was something goin on between me and his wife.

Sa kaba ko and gulat, and to end what could be a disastrous day, I searched for the nearest way out, I had no other choice but to tell them my secret.

That I was really in love that time,although not with Riza, but with Todd our other friend.

And that yes, I am not-so-straight as what they think of.

Their jaws dropped and wouldn't believe what I said.

They thought I was pulling their legs.

It was just like a telenovela scene.

I had no choice then, I had to find a way to bail myself out of that mess.

That's the only way out i can think of.

But i did not regret it, heck i was so relieved I did it.

Because even after so many years had passed, they still remain my closest friends.

And to date, I do trust them fully, And now I tell them all my dirty little secrets. "P

(and about Todd? di na kami masyadong close ngayon. nawala na kasi ung kanyang pagka cute haha )

Kalayaan by Mu[g]en

2010-09-02T13:01:00.000+08:00

Our beloved Mu[g]en has also contributed by reposting his entry entitled Kalayaan.

Go here.

Suicide Letter ng Isang Bakla ni Edgar Portalan

2010-09-02T12:59:00.000+08:00

ni Edgar Portalan

Ito ay inakda ko para sa dyaryong PM na nalathala nuong Agosto 22, 2004 para sa kolum na Bagong Tinta ni Mr. Ronnie M. Halos......muli ko itong ire-repost dito bilang pakikiisa sa sama-samang paglalathala ng isang "coming out " blogpost para sa araw na ito ........

To my family,

Marahil ay magugulat kayo sa pagkakatagpo ninyo sa akin sa ganitong kalagayan. Bago po ang lahat, nais ko po munang humingi ng tawad dahil sa aking ginawa.Lubha pong hindi ko na makayanan ang bigat ng aking dinadala kung kaya napagpasyahan kong ituloy na ang matagal ko nang binabalak gawin.

Buo na sa isip ko na marahil ay sadyang hindi nyo na ako matatanggap at mauunawaan sa aking kalgayan. Minsan ko lang po sainyo aaminin, at hindi ko sinasadyang sa ganitong pagkakataon ko ilalabas ang tungkol sa aking tunay na pagkatao.Nais ko pong kumpirmahin at aminin sa inyo na tama ang inyong hinala na isa nga akong bakla!

Marahil ay hindi na kayo magugulat. Bata pa lang ako ay kinakitaan nyo na ako ng sintomas ng pagiging isang bakla. At dahil sa takot ninyo na mailabas ko ang katotohanan sa aking pagkato ay ginawa ninyo ang lahat upang ito ay hadlangan. Pinilit ninyo akong magpakalalaki. Ipinadama ninyo at ipinangaral kung gaano ninyo kinasusuklaman ang pagiging isang bakla. Bilang isang masunuring anak, pinilit kong sumunod sa inyong mga utos, sa abot ng aking makakaya. Napaniwala ninyo ako na isa nga akong tunayu na lalaki. At dapat maging kilos lalaki ako dahil nakakahiya ang maging bakla.Itinago ko ang aking tunay na damdamin. Nagbalatkayo ako sa pag-asang matatanggap ninyo ako bilang isang tunay na lalaki. Pilit kong itinatwa ang aking nararamdaman dahil sa takot na hindi ninyo matanggap oras na malaman nyo ang katotohanan. Matagal na panahon ko itong kinimkim at iningatan sa aking puso.

Ngunit minsan, ang isang lihim kahit na anong gawin mong pagtatago ay pilit at pilit na lalabas at aalingasaw.Dumarating at darating ang panahon na hindi mo na maitatago ang katotohanan at kusa na lang itong sisingaw. Nagpupumilit na umalpas ang isang natatagong damdamin hanggang sa hindi mo na ito mapigil . Kahit na anong tago ko, hindi ko na ito mapipigilang lumabas. Parang isang kumukulong tubig sa loob ng takure na hindi maglalaon ay lalabas ang singaw. At nangyari nga ang aking kinatatakutan. Ang pagsingaw ng aking katauhan!

Ngunit hindi ninyo ito natanggap at hindi niyo na ito matatanggap pa. Alam kong sinarado nyo na ang inyong kaisipan pagdating sa pagiging masama ng isang bakla. Na ito ay isang nakakasuka at nakapandidiring kalagayan ng isang tao. At ang hindi ninyo matangggap ay ang katotohanang kabilang dito ang isa ninyong anak.

Nalalaman kong masama ang loob ninyo sa akin. Sapagkat hindi ko na kayang itago ang aking tunay na pagkatao. Nasusuklam kayo dahil mas pinili ko ang lumantad kaysa tikisin ang aking damdamin. Na mas pinili ko ang kayo ay mapahiya kaysa sa hirap ng aking kalooban. Ngunit patawarin ninyo ako, naging mahina ako at nailabas ko ang dapat sana ay habambuhay kong kinikimkim hanggang sa aking hukay. At hind ko ito mapapayagang lapastanganin ang respetong inyong tinatamasa mula sa mga nakakakilala at mga kaibigan. Kaya ito ang huling naging pasya ko: ang putulin ang pag-usbong ng kahihiyan sa ating pamilya.

Sana maintindihan ninyo ako kung bakit ko ito ginawa. Hindi dahil sa kayo ay gusto kong ipahiya, manapa nga ay para iligtas kayo sa kahihiyan.

Pinili ko ang mas madaling paraan upang maayos ang takbo ng ating sambahayan. Naisip ko, kung patuloy pa kong mabubuhay sa kawalang direksyon at magulong buhay ng isang bakla, ay lalo ko lang kayong ilulublob sa kumunoy ng kahihiyan. Kaya minabuti kong wakasan na ito hangga't maaga pa, habang hindi pa nag-uugat ang aking piniling buhay.

Nais ko lang malaman ninyo na hindi ko ito ginusto. Bata pa lang ako ay ito na ang aking nararamdaman. Sadya nga lang yatang isinilang ako sa maling pagkakataon at maling panahon. Marahil ay hindi na ako maiintindihan ng sinuman sa aking kapwa. Kung sarili ko ngang pamilya ay hindi ako maunawaan, ano pa kaya ang ibang tao.

Maraming mga tanong ang hindi ko pa nasasagot; at marahil ay hindi ko na msasagot pa. Siguro Diyos na lang ang nakakaunawa sa akin. Ngunit mistulang kahit ang Diyos ay nakikiisa sa pagsasabing ako ay karima-rimarim. Hindi ko alam.

Saan ako ngayon pupunta? Bahala na!

Pinilit ninyo akong pinalakad sa isang diretso at malawak na highway. Maganda ang daan at sementado. Ngunit umiba ako ng landas at at aking tinahak ang malubak at baku-bakong Avenida. Kinuha ninyo ako at muling ibinalik sa highway, ngunit pilit ko pa ring tinatahak ang maputik na Avenida. Hanggang sa pabayaan nyo na kong lakbayin ang daan patungo sa kung saan man. At heto na nga ako , tinatahak ang mahabang Avenida ng kapalaran. Kung saan ito hahantong ay hindi ko alam. Kung ano ang naghihitay sa akin sa dako pa roon ay tanging Diyos lamang ang nakakaalam. Basta ang mahalaga ay tinahak ko ang daang nais kong lakaran.

Paalam sa inyong lahat!

Paalam!

A Letter to An Old Friend, The Closet by jimsimon

2010-09-02T12:55:00.000+08:00

by jimsimon

Hello, it’s been awhile since I last talked to you, how’s life treating you these days? I hope they’re much appreciative now unlike me when it was my time with you. Me? Well, I’m still the same old guy you took in years ago only a little braver now. I’d like to believe I’m braver now. It’s just that I missed you and though it’s hard to admit I sometimes miss the person I was when I was with you.

I still remember the first I knew about me, I was scared and lonely, Scared and lonely to the point that I wanted to take my very own life just to end a misery I was about to go through. Then you came, you were a shelter, a home that I’ve come to love. I was safe inside you, no one can hurt me inside you and you were my freedom of some sort back then.

You weren’t selfish, you’d let me peek through your keyholes and let me see the colorful parade outside, you know I secretly wanted to join the parade but it was I who wouldn’t leave the comfort of your anonymity. Sometimes you’d catch me slightly opening your doors and catching glimpses of the life outside you, I remembered how you touch my shoulder and whispered gently to me to try and see how beautiful it is to see the rainbow in its full glory and not in some obstructed view; I simply let out a sigh and shut your doors.

Inside your comfort, I grew restless; I let out tantrums for not being able to express what I really feel. You say it was inevitable, that no one can really stay inside you for long, some went out lashing out your door with their new found pride in tow, some came out as silently as possible, some came out and then went back in, some just enjoyed the comfort of being able to go back and forth inside your fortress and some like I, went out and forgotten to look back at you.

Outside, you’re known as some sort of an antagonist, colorful people sees you as a prison, a place where cowards resides, a mockery of their rainbow hued lives, I must admit that for sometime after I came out, I thought of you in that style, I apologize for not running in you defense. I know you couldn’t hate me, I still remember how you welcomed me back after years of not seeing you, I got myself a new job then, I was too scared to lose my job just because I’m different from the rest of the people at my workplace, you were again my relief that time, again you gave me a much needed anonymity, a darkness that would hide my true color.

Now, it’s been years since I last saw you, I came back not to check myself in again, I’m here to pay respect to you., Much has been said about how coming out of you have been one’s most liberating experience, not much on how in some ways you helped us through the roughest time of our lives, times when even our closest family and friends wouldn’t understand us, times when all we think was other people would say, times when for us being different is the last thing we want to be, you gave us time to ponder and think, you gave us anonymity just when we needed it the most and you gave us darkness so we could appreciate the colors outside you.

I’ll be forever grateful to you; I wouldn’t be as proud as I’m today being gay if it weren’t for you.

Still a friend,

Ex- Closet Princess.

Purging the Demons of the Constipated by Lord Fernandez

2010-09-02T12:52:00.000+08:00

by Lord Fernandez

Today I live a life of Beauty, Peace and Love. I know – it’s a line that is usually reserved for beauty queens – but am I not one? Many years ago – I lived a life of denial, secrecy, and as one of my friends call it – constipation. My best friend actually revealed that prior to the day that I came out – I actually looked constipated. Looking back at the pictures – I must agree with her. Now that I live the life an openly gay man – my countenance is just a lot more relaxed – which I think contributes to my inward sense of being beautiful.

One of my favorite shows – and this will not be a surprise – is “Will and Grace”. Will’s character did mention that once you come out – you can never come back inside the closet. I agree with him because the act of coming out is very similar to that of being born into this world.

I remember the days/months/ or years leading to that fateful day. At first – I did admit to my closest friends that I recognize that if I find that the person I love is a man – I will accept it. Even during those moments – I could not get myself to admit that I am gay.

For most of my friends – they can actually recall the first time that they came out. I can remember it as well. I came out as a grown up man. I did not come out till I was in my late 20s. The first time that I admitted that I was gay was when I had dinner with a close friend of mine. Of course in response – she quickly set me up on a date with one of her friends who apparently was attracted to me.

After that – the revelation came to my other friends, some members of the family, and eventually my colleagues. Yes – I am openly out at work. The reactions are varied – but I will always cherish those reactions of joy and excitement from those who love me.

Coming Out? by Ms. Chuniverse

2010-09-02T12:50:00.000+08:00

by Ms. Chuniverse

Gusto kong mag-out pero ‘di ko magawa.

I know that I owe it to myself and kung meron mang dapat akong unang pagsabihan, sa parents ko siguro. Pero hindi ko kaya. Kung mag-out man ako in public…

Siguro ‘pag isa na akong ulila.

Baka kasi ako pa ang maging cause of departure ni mother at father sa mundong itetch pag vonggang vonggang nag-spread ng wings ang kanilang panganay.

Seriously.

Mahirap. Sobrang hirap. I’d rather make the ultimate sacrifice kaysa makabigat pa sa damdamin ng mga magulang ‘ko. Kung ako lang, kaya ‘kong tiisin ang mga malisyosong tingin, ang mga bulong-bulungan at ang mga pag-uusisa. Pero my parents, I don’t think they can take all of those. I’ll just spare them the trouble.

Buhay ko man ito, kadugtong pa rin ang pamilya ko. And until such time na totally tanggap na ng publiko ang buhay na itinadhana sa ‘kin, hindi ko pa masasabi ang katagang…

Mom, Dad, whiz ko na ever kayang mag hide cheverlu. Isa po akong sirena.

Well, in the closet or not, that won’t stop me for living the life of a happy gay man.

And just like that, I was out. by Gibbs Cadiz

2010-09-02T00:54:00.000+08:00

by Gibbs Cadiz

[Note: Like CC, I forgot to sign up, too, for this collective blogging event. But I'd like to pitch in, anyway, by reposting my own story.]

--------------------------------------

[To the TODAY editors, June 1995]: Thank you for publishing the incredibly homophobic, galactically stupid letter of one Cris Villahermosa II expressing the “waves of loathing and revulsion” he felt over Gerard Ramos' apparent penchant for what's “in between Mel Gibson's legs.” Allow me to answer him in kind.

Dear Mr. Villahermosa: Hey, asshole, nice phrase, but you can't imagine the waves of loathing and revulsion that equally hit me as I read your letter.

Not only are you an ignorant, narrow-minded dope; your values are also screwed up pretty bad. You can't believe there are respectable gays? Why, this may shock you and shatter your self-righteous “straight” sensibilities, but my friends and I happen to be gay and are living full, happy and self-respecting lives. Far more happy and secure, I bet, than the miserably prejudiced, hate-filled existence you are barely able to hack on this planet.

Most of us are no better or worse than straight people--we pay our taxes, we work hard, we nurture our families and children--but at least no gay I've met so far has ever wished on anybody the unspeakable fate of the Holocaust victims. You have, and my oh my, you tell us you're a “normal” guy?

Honey, we're no sickos. You are.

And since you seem to wax orgasmic at the thought of Hitler butchering homosexuals and other “inferior” races, tell me, how do you think you would have fared under him? Ha, I'd love to see how your dear old Adolf would've treated a flat-nosed, brown-skinned, pudgy little non-Aryan like you!

No, Mr. Villahermosa, we're not about to take any more shit from you or from anybody else about us. By the way, my gay AND straight friends and I are curious: why the “revulsion” at the thing between Mel Gibson's legs? You sound as if it's so alien to you. Were you born without it?

GILBERT H. CADIZ, Makati City

The letter got published a day after I faxed it to the paper.

And just like that, I was out--never to return to that horrid closet. If you'd like to hear the story of what led me, at 25 years old, to finally kick the door open and write this enraged letter, tune in to Part 1 of our new Troika podcast. Migs and McVie also share their own “volt-out” stories.

Part 2 has more of our thoughts on coming out, e.g., dealing with hostile family and friends, doing it the “strategic” way, why come out at all, reconciling gayness and faith, etc. For levity's sake, I couldn't help injecting into the mix these two coming-out anecdotes (tell me which generation you belong to):

Scenario 1
Son: “'Nay, bakla po ako.”
Mom: (Crying) “Kasi naman ikaw, anak, di ka nagsisimba!”

Scenario 2
Son: “'Nay, bading po ako.”
Mom: “Hmmp, nakikiuso ka lang.”

my coming out story again by Corporate Closet

2010-09-02T00:53:00.004+08:00

by Corporate Closet

im reposting my coming out story, told as part of my tribute to my mom during mother's day, 2008. this is in solidarity with theorgy's call for a september 1 a collective blogging event

unfortunately, i didnt sign up. sorry, theorgy. but id like to contribute anyway. so here goes...

Sunday, May 11, 2008

happy nanay day!

i'm probably one of the world's luckiest sons. and i say that with all objectivity. i have a nanay who's so Gloria Romero (def: barkada term for consenting mother, taken from the 80's sitcom Palibhasa Lalaki where Gloria played a drunken consenting motherhen). though she wasn't always as 'agreeable' to my life choices.

she has always been a housewife to my father, raising a brood of six kids as my dad visited his clinics. she honestly had to learn motherhood the hard way, having married at 22yo, and 4 brothers as siblings. and a polio victim at that.

but raised us she did! and we learned how to be OC-OC from her (def: obsessive compulsive disorder). she wanted order and cleanliness.

i guess she must have suspected of my PLU ways when i was more interested in my sister's Barbie dolls than in the toy machine gun tatay got for me. hihihi. (this period i outgrew my affection for girls and my yaya's boobs. hahaha) and in high school when my friends were all badings, she did say something like "hijo, yung mga barkada mo, para silang bakla. baka mahawa ka. ibahin mo na lang." i staunchly defended my barkada, for i loved them so. and she never mentioned them again. so coming out to her was really no big surprise.

but i assumed she went through denial. but there was no denying it anymore when my sister brought to her attention a letter i wrote to one of my friends. this was when i was in 1st year college. and the barkada had broken up (almost all of us went to different schools). so we would write letters to each other. and i stupidly left on the typewriter (!?!) my ultra, mega-bading letter to her, with all the gayspeak! yes. no more denying. she held a family caucus while i was going to mass. they confronted my blossoming sexual orientation. and agreed to support me but only after nanay and tatay had discussed this with me.

i noticed that week that something was amiss. i was being quietly avoided. which was fine with me. but come saturday afternoon, my mom asked to talk to me.

nanay on the kitchen table, 'nagpipili ng bigas' (def: the rice grains bought from the market didnt used to be as cleanly milled. one had to use flat shallow basket (bilao) to lay the grains out and pick the unmilled grains or the deformed ones for disposal). maintaining her composure, though i know she had been crying previously.

'anak, yung mga barkada mo... sila ba ay...' i finished the sentence for her... no, i cut her with an immediate reply: 'opo.. lahat kami bading.' 'aaah' she calmly responded.

'gusto mo ba ng tulong? baka gusto mo ng psychiatrist?'

'di po. natanggap ko na eto. kung dati, siguro, makakatulong yun. pero ngayon, acceptance na lang ang hihingiin ko.'

'eh pano yan, di ba kasalanan sa Diyos yan?'

'bahala na po ang Diyos sa akin. gusto ko lang na alam niyo na at di ko na kailangan i-lihim pa.'

'okay. sige hijo. tatapusin ko pa 'to.' i stood up and left.

that was the start of her acceptance of who i was, her first-born son, the son who carried both grandfathers' names in his own name, a true 'the Third'.

her life journey also took her to Opus Dei where she became an incorporator. OD calmed her down, gave her resilience and a barkada of her own, until now. and though i thought OD would turn her into a preachy minister, giving me sermons on the 'gay path to hell', she never did.

she did tell me that she struggled reconciling her new-found fervor with the Catholic Church and her acceptance of my sexuality early on. but she remembered having a dream where she looked inside my bag and saw a Crucifix. she interpreted that dream to be a message telling her I was okay.

ill never forget how comforting that story was. and how that shaped my own belief in a Benevolent Jesus who loves me and accepts me.

so ive always been soooo close to her. ive taken it upon myself to take care of her, of them. and i love making her laugh, making her happy. i make it a point to have dinner with them as often as i could. and they know all my exes, and those that matter. they give me their own assessments which i value. (even as i write this post intentionally talking about just nanay, i couldnt. because nanay and tatay, they really are one now.)

nanay, thank you for being the best ever mom a gay man could ever have. i know im the envy of almost everybody, with the kind of relationship we have, with the kind of nanay i have. thank you for the genes of beauty and brains i got from your side of the family. =) thank you for accepting me, warts and all. thank you for your tears, worrying about me all this time. thank you for your smile, that i love seeing. thank you for the faith you have instilled in me. thank you for the education that has brought me here. and thank you for showing me what unconditional love REALLY means. i love you, nanay.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The Son Will Come Out by Lyka Bergen

2010-09-02T00:41:00.000+08:00

by Lyka Bergen

I dont even know what a 'bakla' was. As a kid, I used to play Jackstone and its Chinese version and was very good at it challenging my cousins Geraldine and Laura.

While my brothers and boy cousins play Jolens, I chose to play Chinese Garter with all the girl neighbors. I played Piko rather than making a toy truck out of milk cans. And I chose carrying a basket like going to the market over shooting a basket with a heavy orange ball. But, was it really a choice? I thought I was just being me and do things I enjoy.

As I get a little bit older, the teasing begins. I dont understand why people in the neighborhood were picking on me. Those people I dont even know. I remember asking my mom one night of why do they do that."Because you are different" she replied. I still didn't understand.

One afternoon, everybody in the clan was in our compound for a gathering. My uncle from Cebu came to visit us. He offered to bring all the boys to watch the movie, King Kong. I was so excited and so ready to go and felt sorry for Geraldine and Laura who cannot come. Until..... that Uncle told me that I'm not coming. "You're not a boy, are you?"

With tears, I ran looking for my mom crying out, "Im a boy!" and told her of what happened. She got angry. Towing me to see that intolerant Uncle but to no avail, he and the boys have already left. Mom tried to pacify me with a promise of us watching King Kong the next day but it didnt help my wailing. Cousins Geraldine and Laura grabbed my hand and led me to one corner. Then, right there at that moment, I understood what was really going on.

That was my first ever rejection as being gay. I so hated that moment that it led me to the thought that being 'different' is not a good thing. I tried not to be 'different' from then on but for some reasons I still cannot hide it. More teasing. More Rejections as i grow older. I tried more to stop it by denying what I feel, and not showing to other people who I am inside. I learned the art of pretending and like playing Jackstones, I was good at it.

Because of my bad childhood experiences as a Power Puff Girl, I turned out to become Spidey, hiding my true identity with an awkward mask. I opted coming out only to the members of The League of Extraordinary Very Gentle-Men who I think can understand me. It started with my very good friend, Plastic Man (Mama O) when we were in College. He kept on asking me who is this new guy friend I am always with. I told him, "He's my boyfriend". Those were my first ever coming-out words. From Plastic Man to Batman, my coming out was spilled to everyone in the group, who themselves shared their own stories too. I chose them because they are like me. People who are different, like my Mom's description of me when I was a child.

Today, despite of his different kinda powers, Spidey is still scared and wounded deep inside. Like his friend's Superman's Kryptonite, close-minded people making monkey out of him will cause him pain and weakness. So he chooses to continue to hide from the majority, including his own Family (whom he thinks doesn't need to know for they knew already).

Not a good defense, but the great Freud will comprehend. And yes, he still believes that the son will come out..... tomorrow!

Pare, bakla ako by Jericho

2010-09-02T00:20:00.000+08:00

by Jericho

At the risk of playing into stereotypes, I will dare consider coming out as the most macho thing a gay guy can do.

For coming out is not a leisurely trip in the park. It is an agonizing process where one tries to weigh in and balance various factors from the personal to the social. Scenarios are built and most of the time, they are all grim and we cringe at the thought of one of them happening.

Myself, it took a broken heart, the not-so-holy spirit of Jack Daniels, and the knowledge of the political correctness of my colleagues to make me finally say that the “phase” I was in was for keeps.

Coming out is more of like a gauntlet thrown out by knights to pose a challenge. We say that we come out when we are ready and this readiness means we stick with dicks no matter what happens. Through thick or thin … or small, medium, large or extra large.

We come out expecting to get riddled with questions, to be met with amazement and even be ridiculed. Still we do so. Our coming out of the closet is a challenge we pose for others to come out of their own closeted existence where gays should, well, be in the closet.

The first people I came out to just said “OK”. When I came out to my sister, she just warned me not to get a boyfriend before she does. My third coming out was on Facebook. It did result to some comments but definitely not to a discussion page.

Whether they did accept what I said or understood what it meant did not really matter. At the very least, it probably got them to think that from then on, they have to deal with a gay guy whenever I am around.

To paraphrase a quote by Mao, revolution is not a dinner party or embroidery. So is coming out though we do love parties and have nimble fingers for needlework. If a revolution is about creating a new society, coming out opens one up to a new way of life.

It takes a lot of nerves to man up and be gay. In the kind of society we are in, once you come out, you have to come out again and again to defend your choice, banish prejudices and smash stereotypes. It is like a perpetual ejaculation with no real orgasm immediately in sight.

However hard it is, I still prefer to be out.

In any case, something hard is not always a bad thing, right?

Counting by Kiks

2010-09-02T00:17:00.000+08:00

by Kiks

Thirty minutes to 12 and I have not even started my coming out post.

Maybe because I never really felt the need to come out.

I have always been out. At a tender age of 3, I knew I was gay and people around me were gay. It seemed as if our village was planting and harvesting homosexuality and we are shipping them to every part of the country.

The issue never really struck me until a friend of mine from college was refused entry to a bar. Simply because he was a cross-dressing, wig-wearing and well-made up bakla.

A few years later, I met the same old friend. Except this time, he was bemuscled, no tinge of foundation on his face and was talking in a baritone. Noticing how queasy I was, he gave his one-liner: I need to work to live.

That got me. Fitting yourself into that square so you can be hired. Going one step back into the closet just so you can earn. And finally, earn enough to buy yourself a plane ticket to Ibiza. Or simply run away.

Four minutes more and I am still not finished.

I guess it takes more than one post to grope with the complex process of coming out as it is years to come out.

We have demons, big and small, to fight, even before and after we come out of the closet.

One has to calculate each and every move to win the struggle. But then, it may be a collective battle altogether.

And my two minutes are up.

And then I came out of Narnia by Adam

2010-09-02T00:12:00.001+08:00

by Adam

I contemplated on whether I should write this or not. It has only been a few days since I came out to some of the most important people in my life. Among all of them, there is one story I would like to share. Cliche as it seems, it is how I came out to my Mom. This post is quite long so bear with me. Nobela to.

And here is how the story goes...

More than a week ago, I changed my Facebook status from 'single' to 'in a relationship'. It was something that caused quite a stir among my friends and family. Apparently, me being in a relationship is such a huge deal for them. A lot of people commented, reacted, asked. One of them was my Mom.

"Who's your girlfriend?", she asked me over the phone.

"Oh that? It's nothing don't mind that", I answered.

She noticed that I didn't want to talk about it so she dropped the topic. A few days after that, she came to Manila. A few hours after she arrived, she was in my room playing Farmville. I was watching TV. She asked me again,

"Who is your girlfriend?"

"No one, don't take that seriously", I answered.

"Why don't you wanna tell me? Is she ugly? Is she stupid? Is she poor? What?"

"No its not that."

"Tell me. I thought we were close, you could tell me anything."

"Mom...its...complicated", I answered with a sigh.

"Try me", she insited.

"No", I firmly said.

"Why? Are you worried I will get mad? Are you worried about something? I don't have hypertension or anything you know", she said trying to feign humor.

"You might have if I tell you the story."

"Just tell me c'mon.", she said without looking at me, being too engrossed with Farmville.

I fell silent and I just looked at her while she was harvesting her crops. I wanted to tell her. I could feel my heart beating so fast, it felt like a thousand drums were pounding on my chest. I took a deep breath.

"It's now or never", I told myself.

I pulled my mom close to me and hugged her really tight. I lay my head on her shoulder and I was stopping myself from crying.

"What is it anak? What's wrong?", she asked.

I didn't respond.

"Anak you can tell me anything. Did you do something wrong? Is something bothering you?"

I started crying silent tears.

"Anak I am your Mom. I only want you to be happy and I will understand you for whatever it is you have done", she said reassuringly.

"Mom I don't know how to tell you this...I don't know how or where to start so I'll just say it out right", I suddenly said.

She nodded.

"Mom...I don't have a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend", I said and at that moment I broke down in tears.

My mom without wasting a second hugged me and said that she already knew.

She explained it to me. She already knew. Apparently even as a child, she wished that I would be gay because a gay son would never leave her and would put her above everything else. She said that it was a part of her that was too selfish to share me with another woman.

My Mom said that she was raised by my grandpa who was not her biological father but was gay. She said that because of him, she saw that gay men can be more decent than straight men and that there was nothing wrong with being gay specially in this day and age. She added that she saw the life my grandpa led, how blessed and happy he was because he was gay.

It made me feel so much better.

"Im sorry Momma", I said, voice a bit cracking.

"There is nothing to be sorry about. When you told me, did I look surprised? Did I look shocked?", she asked, "I already knew it anak and I know that it is something very private and very hard for you to say so all I've been waiting for is for you to tell me. I did not want to be presumptuous, I did not want to catch you off guard. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."

I could not stop crying at that point. Was I dreaming? Was all of this real? Was my Mom actually telling me these things?

"I'm happy that you told me the truth. I am relieved. Just because you are gay, it does not mean that I will love you any less. I love you more because you told me the truth and I now how hard it is to admit something like this. I know what a relief it is because you've been harboring this secret inside you for a long time."

Every time my Mom talked, every word she said, all I did was look at her in the eyes. I did not see anger. I did not see disappointment. I did not see remorse. I only saw relief.

The conversation became lighter eventually. My mom said that she does not see me marrying a girl and that if that day would come, she wont break down and stop the wedding because she won't be able to accept that.

"When I saw that you changed your FB status, the first thing that came to my mind was 'poor girl' because I did not know it was a guy. But now that I know, I'm much more relieved. I mean, if it was a girl and she loves you then it's her problem because I know that you are gay, and besides, ako lang ang babae sa buhay mo no!", she said.

I laughed.

My mom assured me that nothing would change. She gave me advice on how to handle relationships and all that. She also said that I should know that there would be criticisms, there would be reactions and that I should be ready for that. I told her I already was.

She asked me about my boyfriend and that if he was my first.

"He's not. You've already met two of my ex-boyfriends actually and they've also been to the house", I said.

She knew exactly who I was talking about and for their sake, I won't mention their names here.

We had a short conversation about my exes and I told her why we broke up. She knew that I dont talk to them anymore but the details we're always shady. Now, everything made more sense to her.

"So tell me about your boyfriend. What does he do? How old is he? Is he still studying?"

"He's 23, he's working and he's a cum laude. He's smart, he's good looking and he loves me a lot", I replied.

"Does he have a Facebook account? What is it? Show me his picture", my mom demanded.

"Why?"

"So I'd know what he looks like and I'll see kung may malalait ako sa kanya", she said laughing.

I thought for a second and I opened his picture which was saved on my desktop.

"Ooohhhh he's cute. Disente manamit. Good ah. At least marunong kang pumili", she suddenly blurted out.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

She said that she's happy that I'm happy and that she's glad I found someone but she lay down some ground rules.

Bawal ang live-in.

Conduct yourself properly in public.

And...if you break up...move on. Let go. What doesnt destroy you will make you stronger. You should know that.

"Malamang", I told myself. I just nodded.

"Tama na nga to, I'm not done harvesting yet", she suddenly said.

"Ma, I wonder what will Papa and his relatives say when they find out?", I asked innocently.

She burst out into laughter.

"Oh yeahhh", she said, "Well anyway, it's not like they've done anything for you, so they have no right to react".

It's been days since we had this conversation. Nothing has changed. We've actually become closer. The only difference is that I'm happier than I've ever been. I've already told most of my close friends, and all of them accepted me with open arms.

Coming out is hard. Coming out is scary, its terrifying, it downright nerve wracking. But I am happy and thankful that my friends and my mom have made it so easy for me. This is not what I expected, not at all. So for everyone out there who's afraid to come out, I'm not forcing you to come out, but let me tell you that when you do, it is at that moment when you realize who your true friends are and how much your family loves you.

Now I can sleep soundly at night. Now it no longer bothers me. Now I have everything I could ever want and more.

Now I am out of Narnia...and it feels so much better...

stepped out: since 1999 by PJ

2010-09-02T00:06:00.000+08:00

by PJ

This project caught my attention whilst browsing non-work related sites during office hours (heh!) and I realized that for the past four years that I've been [intermittently] blogging, I haven't really talked about my coming-out story (there was a brief mention here). Sure, this blog's littered with tales of whine and proses; of the highs and lows of being NBSB and of porn analyses, but I haven't really shared how it all started, have I?

(But does it matter? Telling my story, that is? Not really, but what the heck. People usually laugh at how supposedly funny my story was... not sure how it'll translate in writing, though.)

Anyhoo, it was during our high school senior year retreat when I finally accepted that yes, I was... "confused" (LOL!). For one thing, majority of the palanca letters I received from my classmates had the same message: accept who you really are because we'll love you no matter what. For another, during one of our reflection periods (Was it during Day 2?) the one thought that was running through my head was this: God's love is supposed to be unconditional; if not, well fuck it, I'm going to hell.

(The fact that I saw a classmate in black string briefs when I was on wake-up call duty -- he opened the door pissed off at 5 in the morning -- and that stories of other milagro happening before confession were circulating did not help matters.)

I remember my (sort of) grammatically incorrect confession then: "bless me father, for I have sinned... I having homosexual -- and heterosexual thoughts." Yep, I just made heterosexuality a sin.

I say "confused" because that's what I told my mother a couple of months later when we had a heart to heart talk. By then I have embraced my overall nelly-ness at school: I started retaliating or playing along to the taunts of our basketball jocks ("Kandong ka naman!" "Sige ba!"). The Mean Gays who were ostracizing me and used to leave my bag in the middle of the soccer field for the past three years became friendlier because they're now sure that "I'm one of them". Cue the boyband obsessions, Playgirl picture exchanges via rainbow-colored Imation floppy disks, and porn watching parties!

Of course, mother doesn't know about these shenanigans at school until the principal supposedly raised his "concern" one day when she visited the campus. One night, over sinigang, she dropped the bomb:

"Anak, bakla ka ba?"

To which I tearfully replied:

"Hindi ko po alam!"

Yes, despite the fact that I played Barbie and Ken when I was five, or that I sang and danced telenovela theme songs in front of my sophomore class three times on different occasions, I "did not know".

But who does at age fifteen anyway? I mean, I know I was different even when I was much younger, and yet I still had a hard time saying the "B" word out loud. To myself. To everyone. On the bright side, at least "confused" was a much better state that I can label myself I was in then. Rather than, say "childish". ;)

Of course, that statement has had some minor repercussions. Mother held on to that sliver of hope, praying that it's just a phase that I'll outgrew (something I dashed completely come college when I had no qualms sleeping with my girl friends on the same bed during all-nighters). Friends attempted to psychoanalyze my situation ("you just lack a father figure") and were worried that I came out too late ("So sa college ka maglalalandi? Di ka talaga magkaka-boypren!"). Come to think of it, these last two items may probably explain why I'm drawn to someone more mature, and *sigh* why I'm still single. Self-fulfilling prophecy much?

It was halfway through college that I mustered enough courage to say to the world (a la Jack McFarland) that I'm here, I'm queer, and the world better get used to it. Apparently for me, someone who easily gets registered at another person's gaydar even at first glance, finding out and accepting who I am still came in stages.

I still count that senior retreat as my "anniversary" though. It makes good story for one. And of course, my classmate's string briefs is forever etched in my mind. :)

[Technicolor Musings] Getting Dragged Out Of The Closet by Rocky

2010-09-01T16:04:00.000+08:00

by Rocky

I normally save my Technicolor Musings posts for Sundays, but today marks the first theorgy blogging event. It seems theorgy is meant as an opportunity for local pink bloggers to write about a particular topic, similar to Blog Action Day and other such organized blogging events around the web.

And yes, your Geeky Guide is very much gay - and highly proudly so. And the topic for this first theorgy is all about coming out, which ironically is something I didn't quite officially do - at least not by choice. That makes it a bit more interesting and I've always been one to support the local LGBT blogging community.

So pull up a comfy seat, and put on some good mood music - this may take a while, should you be interested to hear the tale..

It was February 2003 when I was riding on cloud nine. My partner at the time and I were on a high after getting over what could have been a major deal-breaker in our budding relationship. But that was past and now I was happy as could be and I actually felt like it was about time for me to start telling people that I was close to about the truth. I wanted to be able to share my happiness with those people I valued, despite my Herculean efforts in the past to keep this side of my life secret from my classmates past and present.

I have to admit, the initial run had me somewhat disappointed - I think I had thought it would have been more of a surprise for people. After all, I felt I did a pretty good job of allowing my geek side to dominate more and for my gay side to stay in the backseat for the most part. I wore over-sized shirts jeans that were a bit too loose to be flattering. I didn't care about brand names, hair products or celebrity news. I spent more time raving about the latest computer game or gadget rather than some hot guy or whatever. In fact, I was totally mum about sex despite already being in my second year of college. I was THAT careful.

My first coming out moment went something like this:
ME: Hey, I have something to tell you.
FRIEND: Oooh, does somebody have a girlfriend?
ME: Um, no...
FRIEND: Does somebody have a boyfriend? *laughs*
ME: Well actually...yeah.
*pause*
FRIEND: Oh my god! I'm so happy for you!

Then he dragged me to come out to a few other people that we were both close to. What can I say - he's my surrogate mother in the queer world and I love him because of that. And for these first few friends, they just took the news with a smile, a knowing look and then going straight into the "well, we kind of figured" or the "why only now?"

So you'd think that I would have been better prepared for the eventual fallout later on.

Fast forward about week and it's after Valentine's Day. I had offered my boyfriend a Valentine's Day card but since he didn't have a bag, he asked me to hold onto it first. It was a rather gay card that had a lot of "I love you" and even the term "husband" involved. And so it remained in my school bag for the time being. On one Thursday after afternoon classes had been cancelled due to another rally (this was UP Diliman after all) as was practice I had used the opportunity to (1) pretend to still have classes and (2) sneak off for some quality time with the boyfriend. But as timing would have it, this was also a day when my (step)Dad decided to pick me up from school.

Fuck me.

So I had to scramble back to the campus while my Dad was already waiting in the car with my brother and had to quickly come up with some lame excuse about a group meeting extending too long amidst profuse apologies. We discussed things in the car but once we got home the matter wasn't brought up again. Coast clear, right?

Stupid assumption. Very, very stupid assumption.

Fast forward again to 02:00am and I awake to my Dad waking me up saying we had to talk. Yeah, definite uh-oh moment. Then I go to my parents' room and Mom is already home from work, sitting on the bed. I sit on the floor directly at her feet, leaning against the cabinets.

The conversation started somewhere along these lines:

MOM: You know why you're here, right?
ME: I know, I was late from school,
MOM: ...so who's ? Is he your boyfriend?

In that near-infinite amount of time between her question and my answer, I went through thousands of scenarios in my head. I had gotten through my double life as a gay man / good son by sticking to the truth as much as possible in order to keep the bigger, more destructive lies safely away. It's like how a ship with compartments can stay afloat by giving up flooded compartments to the sea. In this case, I was visualizing the Titanic getting ripped up by the iceberg. There was no saving this ship today.

And so I answered, "Yes."

Things sort of went downhill from there. Apparently they had searched my things and had found the card. There was the crying and the shouting. There was a lot of hurt and anguish to go around for all sides. Heck, even my biological father was called over in the middle of the night. My "coming out" ended with my mobile phone confiscated, the landline disconnected and the front gate chained closed along with big signs telling me not to attempt to leave. I was under house arrest for the time being and I was going to file an LOA from school despite the semester almost being over. I had gone from cloud nine to the bottom of the barrel in the span of a week.

As much as my coming out experience was rather traumatic for me, I have to admit it was quite a relief. I no longer had to think about the burden of watching my behavior, setting up elaborate alibis or even just the pain of lying to people I loved and cherished. Sure, I couldn't leave the house for a significant period of time, but those months were a great time to sit back and reflect on things, appreciate what all this meant and really consider if my understanding of my sexual identity was right or not. In those months, I wondered if I had subconsciously wanted to get caught so that I could be over with all of it. The stress. The worrying. The second-guessing of every question. The secrecy. The lies. The hurt.

When I eventually left home to strike out a life on my own, I decided that I wouldn't stay in the closet for anyone anymore. Thus I lamely came out to my high school classmates over email. I did the same for my close friends from college and the online world. And I promised myself that I would never hide my sexual orientation from anyone ever again. I carried this principle with me when I first got a job - it was part of my introduction to my training class on day one that I was out and proud and that my boyfriend was in the next class. And it has always been part of my self-declarations in terms of my various writing and blogging projects ever since.

It hasn't been easy of course. It took me a good number of years to repair my relationship with my family, which will never be the same. I still bump into those people in the corporate world who feel my homosexuality may be more of liability than an asset. And I know I put myself at risk from any number of hate crimes, stereotyping or unfair treatment as part of a minority group. But I don't regret the choices I've made that brought me to this point.

A few lessons from this whole coming out experience (at least for me):

> Your mother will always know. She may be in denial about it, but she probably knows.
> Never lie to your siblings - they're your strongest allies in the world and you'd be an idiot for ignoring that.
> Your friends will support you even after you come out. If they don't, they were probably never your friends to begin with.
> Coming out is not about bragging about or imposing your homosexuality on everyone - it's about truly being at peace with who you are and feeling confident enough in yourself to be proud about it.

Of course, the path from my house arrest to my current state of virtually-wedded bliss is probably a heck of a lot more interesting. But that's a story for another time or another blog.

Coming out and its many layers by Tobie

2010-09-01T15:56:00.000+08:00

by Tobie

I used to be content that only my friends knew.

I wasn't your stereotypical son, though. In the early years, my parents saw me as the strange and irritating child who loved to be loud and act crazy. I always made faces in family pictures. I always indulged in horror movies while the rest of the family found them disturbing. I hated sports. Though I was active in running, then later tennis, and even much later, swimming, I was the kid who could score a three-point shot while running around the basketball court screaming, "I HATE THIS GAME!"

Yep, stepping out of the closet required image here.

And I loved Halloween.

Every year I'd host these huge parties, dressing up the separate house where we used to hold the parties with artwork and decor that I'd come up with through the creative use of newspapers, latex paint, crepe paper and foil. My Halloween parties were legendary (at least among my friends) and so were my costumes. From Freddy Kreuger to Giger's Alien, I dressed up in many disturbing costumes and usually even had my own tiny act to accompany it.

My first crush was a girl. She had the sweetest smile and the deepest blue eyes. I met her in Bukidnon and I found myself wondering if I'd ever see her again.

But the first person I fell in love with was my best friend. He and I used to hang out nightly either at the nearby alleyway or at the village park, to stare at the stars, to smoke cigarettes, and to talk about life. We would talk about our hopes, dreams and fears and we would only stop talking when we felt the dawn creeping close.

My high school years were horrible. I was starting to realize my sexuality then, after a horrifying moment in gym class when a boner sprung out unexpectedly on me while the rest of my classmates were getting dressed to take a swim. I locked myself in a dressing chamber and prayed for it to fade away. The years to follow were filled with me being insulting and cruel to the evidently gay classmates we had. It wasn't because I was envious of their freedom, as many writers would try to claim. For me, it was because I could not stomach I was "one of them."

I tried to kill myself a few times after. Being from a religious family, I didn't want this horrible secret to leak out and taint the family name. It took three attempts to lash myself, and three "coincidences" happening to stop me for me to wake up to the truth that I wasn't meant to do that. The last one had a classmate calling me out of nowhere at 3a.m. to tell me he had a dream demanding I needed his help. That classmate saved my life and even now, I doubt he remembers it ever happened.

Eventually, I told my best friend. One night on the way home from our usual talks, I threw out the question, "What would you do if I was gay?" He laughed at the question and though it was absurd. Before he headed home, I threw out a, "By the way, that question earlier? I am." And didn't hear from him for the next day. The following day, however, he showed up and we were just as we always were. He told me, "I realized you were still you. So it shouldn't be a problem."

We're still friends. He's married and with kids. But we aren't as much in touch as before anymore.

In college, it was easier to find others to talk to about myself. But it was harder to make sense of things. Unlike many who abuse the term, I was an honest-to-goodness bisexual who loved and passionately made love to people, regardless if they were men or women. In college, there were the loud gays and the quiet secretive ones. I decided I was more like the quiet ones.

Friends new. Teachers new. A fellow student even had me in a documentary (which I believe is still in DLSU's archives) on me talking about threesome relationships and why mine worked (for only 9 months though, after which all the lies were revealed and I had to start over). But family, no they never knew.

I first came out to my brother. One night he dragged me out with him to a fastfood chain to talk to me about something that was greatly worrying him. As it turned out, he and his girlfriend were getting serious and he wasn't sure how to break the news to our parents. I told him, "You have it easy. Trust me. Guess what my problem is?" And when I told him, he agreed. I was gonna have it tough.

A few years later, I came out to my mother's eldest brother. He was in the theater industry and was for certain much more open-minded about these things. He consoled me and congratulated me on my bravery and admitted that my mom would probably find it hard to just accept things. "Give it time," he reminded me, "But tell her when you are sure it is time."

"Huli ka!"

During all these passing years, I had relationships. Guys. Girls. My parents knew all my girlfriends. Some they loved. Others they hated. My parents met all my boyfriends. They were all my "new bestfriends" in their eyes. Deep down I suspected they already knew. There was that NewYorker skirt my mom gave me one Christmas supposedly, "In case you needed a skirt for a theater play." There were the gay porn magazines I once found suddenly neatly arranged (by date!) in their hiding place. There was also that time I was having sex and left the phone off the cradle, only to have my dad buzz my room asking me to put it down. Oh and there was that one time I was giving someone head when someone tapped at my window. But I guess it was safe to say they didn't see anything. Hear though, I feared they had. The guy was moaning pretty loud.

Yep, not all bisexuals are just guys afraid to admit they're gay.

My girlfriends all knew I was bisexual. I always told them this fact before things got serious. All admitted they were okay with it, but later would admit it wasn't the easiest thing to be okay with. Many friends still feel I let "the right one go". Personally, I think regardless of how things went, me and they all left with something new learned in their hearts and minds.

I had gotten so used to living between words and hiding relationships between definitions that I didn't think I'd ever need to come out. So what if they always thought I had a best friend over? So what if they never knew I loved him more than I thought I could ever love anyone else?

Then he came. How the relationship started is an epic tale in itself - and yes it involves Transformers, dragons, songs, wavelengths, and tears, but that's a story for another day. What it did bring was a sudden desire once again to be recognized. To have our relationship recognized. To be proudly able to say, "I am with him."

It took me a year to get ready. It took me a year to weigh the odds: Would I be thrown out of the house? Can I survive without my parents being part of my life? Am I really ready to do this? Within that year, I took steps that prepared me for the final leap. My partner and I marched on Gay Pride (which so many ignore and instead focus solely on the White Party) and I felt the anger and sadness for the people who were there to tell me I was evil and should not exist. I heard the protesters rage about how I was bringing the end of the world. I realized I needed to speak up. I wanted to show we weren't the horrors they all thought. I found strength in what my partner Rocky told me: "Coming out is always a personal choice." Part of me knew he was instrumental in this resurgence of wanting to be recognized, but he was right. If I were to come out, it had to be because I wanted to. Not because I was doing it for him. Not because I had to.

And I realized, yes I wanted to.

Given all the cons of coming out, the pain and the possibilities of being disowned, I realized I wanted to be recognized as me. I wanted to be honest about who I was. I didn't want to be hidden between the lines anymore. At least not to my parents. Every year, my birthday was a day I'd get depressed seeing it as another year my parents did not know their own son.

I wanted them to know me.

And so I did. One night, I told my parents I needed to talk to them. April 21st. It was the point of no return. And finally, when we spoke, it was a moment I will always remember. There were tears. There were painful moments. But there was also an unmistakable aura of love and strength. My parents were finding it hard to accept, and much to my surprise never thought I was gay. I didn't want to clarify that I was bisexual at first to make it easier for them, but when they asked about my girlfriends it didn't feel right for them to think they were all just foils to hide the truth. But I came out, and in the end, they admitted that nothing will ever change the fact they love me and want me to be happy.

Now my parents know the whole story.

Breaking out at last!

They know about the fact I am living a happily geeky gay life with my partner and while they admit they aren't ready to see him yet or have me too openly talking about him, I feel overjoyed to know they know my life and not just the lie I used to keep surrounding them.

They asked me to give them time, and I realize I at least will give them that. I have yet to proclaim myself to the rest of the family that I am gay, but then again I don't really see the need to. After all, I'm not hiding. My blog and facebook profile openly speaks of my relationship and status. My life openly reflects my lifestyle. I have had some net savvy extended family members contact me and offer words of support. But I've also had others who haven't heard the "chismis" and are still left in the dark. My Lola recently asked me if I was still single. I replied, "Tell you more about it next time Lola. Best siguro ask my Mom. But I want you to know I am very very happy and very very well cared for."

The Many Layers of Inception.

Pwedeng analogy to the many layers of the closet!

I like this feeling of being honest with myself and to others.

I understand that coming out has its layers. Sometimes you can't quite come out completely in one go. Some have the choice stripped from them. Others choose to limit the circle of knowledge to what's convenient or comfortable for them. But ultimately, coming out empowers. And is a personal reminder to yourself that yes you can be who you are and not be afraid.

My name is Tobie Abad and I am proud to say I've come out.

I am proudly living with my partner, Rocky, and you can read about his coming out story here.

I hope others in time find the right moment for them to choose to do the same.

There will always be excuses and reasons not to.

But the choice to do so will always be yours unless you wait for the time it will be taken from you.

Si Susie at Si Amalia ni Baklang Maton

2010-09-01T15:10:00.000+08:00

ni Baklang Maton on the Road

Kahit ilang beses ko nang sinabi na ang paglaladlad eh hindi isang beses mo lang gagawin, at hindi sha isang moment na pag sinabi mong "Bakla ako." eh keri na at iisyuhan ka na ng SBN -- social bakla number. Pero tumatatak pa rin talaga sa utak ng isang beki mae kung kelan na unang sinabi yung mga salitang yun -- malakas man, may nakarinig man, pabulong sa hangin man, or sinabi mo lang sa billboard ni Jake Cuenca.

Nung bata ako, Susie ang tawag sa kin sa Pandacan. Short for Susan (Roces naman ateng hindi Susan Africa!) Ang mga hitad kong shupetbahay kasi pinag-gegera kami ni Amalia. Si Amalia naman yung isa pang pinaghihinalaang beki lou dun sa lugar namin. Pero kahit pinagsasabong nila kami ni Amalia never kaming nag-away.

We were close. Hindi yung level na best of friends. Hindi yung level na nag-sleep over kami sa balur ng isa't isa kasi magkatabi lang naman mga balur namin. Baka mapingot ako ni Dominga ng bonggang bongga pag di ako umuwi. Or baka boljakin ako ni Aling Dolor pag dun ako bumorlogs.

Masikip kasi sa balur nila. Madami kasing junakis sila Aling Dolor. At super luma na nung 2nd floor nila, yung sahig eh parang nilatag lang. As in pag tumalon ka, sa baba ka pupulutin. Kaya hinay hinay lang sa lakad. At sa sobrang dami nila, bata pa lang eh naniniwala na ko sa milagro. Kasi after 48 years, mukha pa rin giray giray ang hauslaloo nila pero nakatayo pa rin. 48 years na rin silang hindi tumatalon.

Hindi kami laging nagkikita ni Amalia. Kasi nung bata ako, pag dinadala ako ni Bibiana kay Dominga feeling ko eh nakakulong ako. Mas feel ko yung buhay sa iskwater. Araw araw pwede kaming maglaro ng patintero sa A. Luna. Pwede kaming mag-follow the leader sa bukid (pagawaan ng hollow blocks sa likod ng iskwater). Pwede kaming mag-RPG ni Totong.

Pag nandun ako sa Pandacan, pinapakiusapan pa ni Inay (ang lola kong si Dominga) sila Amalia, ang ate nya or ang kuya nya para samahan akong maglaro. Ako ang unica hija sa Pandacan. Ako rin ang bratinella. Ako rin ang tagaubos ng ulam ni Inay. At tagareklamo pag kelangan na bumorlogs sa hapon habang nakahiga sa folding bed ko na butas yung sa may pwetan.

Eventually nung hayskul eh dun na ko tumira ng tuluyan sa Pandacan. May mga okasyon na magkasama kami ni Amalia. Pag me birthday, pag fiesta, pag may concert sa Balagtas, pag may away sa riles... Pero hindi pa kami naglaladlad.

Pareho lang kaming biktima ng "baby beki syndrome" -- since pareho kaming malamya at maarte, in-assume na ng sambayanan na lalaki kaming beki. At dahil mabait naman ako talaga hindi ko sila kayang i-disappoint. Naging beki nga ako hehehe... Pero never namin napag-usapan ni Amalia na, "Oo bakla ako. Pareho tayo."

Nung minsan eh inutusan ako ni Valentina na bumili ng Lapid's. Nagpasama ako kay Amalia kasi mahabang lakaran itu. Habang naglalakad, nakaakbay ako sa bewang ng lola mo. Eh mejo malapad yun, big boned si bakla. Niloko ko sha, hinipo ko yung kembot ng bakla at inasar-asar sha. Aba gumanti ba naman. Sa kalagitnaan ng Quirino at Nagtahan, may dalawang baklang naghihipuan. Ang sagwa! Sabi nya bigla "Mamaya na lang sa bahay."

Si Amalia ang kauna-unahang beki na nakakembot sa kin. I never returned the favor. Nung time na yun, top pa ko. Naka naman! Ah basta di ko pa bet bumoda. Ang halay kasi! Beki sha eh di ko masikmura na magpaka-tomboy. Basta nagpaubaya lang ako ng ilang beses. Pero di ko pa rin inaamin sa kanya at lalo na sa sarili ko na masarap at gusto ko ang nangyayari.

"Bakla ka ba?" tanong nya minsan.

"Hindi ah!" tanggi ko. "Masarap lang kasi."

Bisexual. Bi. Bi-yot. Metrosexual. Isang metro na lang bakla na. Bi-curious. Straight tripper. Feel na feel ko na ganyan ako nung time na yun. Kung anuman yung meron kami ni Amalia, keri na yun. Basta masaya kami. Tumigil lang yun nung nagkaroon na ko ng ibang barkada sa hayskul. Di na ko umuuwi ng maaga, lagi na kong nasa mga barkada ko, at wala na kong time shumambay sa riles. Nung lumipat ako ng haus nawalan na rin kami ng communication.

Last month, biglang nag-text si Tita Valentina. Patay na raw si Amalia. Complication sa diabetes. Iba't iba pang sakit. Na-comatose sha ng isang linggo, and then Amalia was gone.

Kung nagkita kami before sha sinundo ni Lord, baka matawa kami sa isa't isa. Sa kanya ako unang naglaldlad. Sa kanya ako unang nadapa. Sa kanya ako unang lumandi. Kung tinanong nya ako noon baka di ko maamin ang totoo. Di ko nga maamin sa sarili ko eh. Pero sana nagkita muna kami bago sha sumakabilang-rainbow.

Amalia, kung nasaan ka man ngayon... maglaladlad na ko.

OUTing by Desole Boy

2010-09-01T14:53:00.000+08:00

ni Desole Boy

wala.

wala akong ganung moment. walang eksenang dramahan with family and friends. wala yung mga cliche na coming out stories gaya ng marami sa mga PLUs. pero meron akong coming out story. at eto yung isheshare ko.

rewind tayo. 16 years ago, i am your everyday kid. school-bahay-laro, nagpapapalit-palit lang ng sequence, pero puro iyon lang ang laman ng itenerary ko. may isang pangyayari na siyang tumatak sa kasaysayan ng aking kabaklaan. ganito yun.

"The kids would normally play moro-moro after class. To those of you city raised kids, moro-moro is like agawang base. It's boys versus girls. The little blokes would chase giggling girls so they could grab them in their arms then eventually carry them to their own base as their own hostages. Boys, with their God given speed and briskness obviously always win. The girls, happy enough to be chased; enjoying every moment of capture.

Though he's glad his team won, a boy would sometimes ask: how cool will it be to be chased then eventually get captured?"

natapos ang 6 years sa elementary at pumasok si high school. eto na yung panahong kaliwa't kanan eh nagsyosyotaan ang mga malalalanding binata't dalaga. syempre sali ako. niligawan ko si popular pretty girl ng campus. naturally, i was turned down. panget ako nung high school eh.

tapos nun mabilis lang ang mga pangyayari. nagkaro'n ako ng mga barkada. sumali sa lahat ng clubs at competition. nagkaron ng panibagong mga crushes. pero yun nga lang, hindi na sila mga babae. type ko na ang mga campus heartthrob! bigla na lang na havs ako ng line na: "uyy ang gwapo ni Renmar no?"

yun na! sya na ang unang gay crush ko. walang nabigla. walang nagviolent reaction. keber lang ang madlang people. naki-kilig sa mga kalandian ko. nakiboso sa mga lalaking natipuhan ko. masaya ako. tanggap nila.

at simula nun, ang mga alam kong kulay ay hindi na lamang red, blue, green, at black and white. nalaman kong meron palang fuchsia at mountbatten pink. cerulean at palatine blue. yun na ang simula ng masalimuot, mapait ngunit masarap at makulay na buhay bakla.

masalimuot...

dahil ayaw kong makulong sa terminong bakla. in this world with its obsession with labels, PLUs are battered with so many prejudices and stereotypes dawdling our effort in climbing the hierarchy of our unspoken "caste system" as we aim in standing side by side with them heteros.

fresh from my college days, trying my luck to land on my dream job in the country's leading network, i was asked: are you guy? in which i politely replied: i suppose that question is relevant with my job? then i added: kung para sa 'yo ang mga nagkakagusto sa kapwa lalaki ay bakla, bakla nga ako. kung para sa 'yo ang mahilig sa mga show-tunes at haute couture fashion shows eh bakla, bakla nga ako. pero dahil ang mga pinakamahahalagang tao sa buhay ko, ang aking pamilya, kailan ma'y hindi nagtanong at hindi ako inobligang magpaliwanag tungkol sa preference ko, i don't think i have the very obligation of answering that question. thank you. [haha..pang ms. universe lang ba?]

mapait...

dahil ang umibig sa kaparehong kasarian ay hindi daw tama. hindi tanggap ng lipunang nagdidikta ng tama at mali. mapait dahil maraming tao ang sarado ang isip. patuloy na itinatanggi ang katotohanang sa simula pa'y bumubulag na sa bawat isa. mapait dahil sa hindi matapos tapos na tunggalian. sa patuloy na pagsalag.

masarap at makulay...

dahil sa labang ito, kasama mo ang mga taong tinagurian ngang "malalamya at abnormal" ngunit siya namang pinakamatatapang at malalakas na taong pwede mong makilala.

coming out is a journey. hindi siya natatapos sa mga salitang "oo, bakla ako." o sa kabilang dako "oo, tomboy ako." it is a continuous struggle, a continuous battle for the truth.

sa istorya kong ito, isa ang gusto kong ipabatid. na ang pinakaimportanteng coming out ay ang pag-come out mo sa sarili mo. madadaya mo ang lahat, magagawa mong magpanggap sa lipunang taas kilay na nagaabang sa bawat kilos at pananalita mo, pero hindi sa sarili mong kilala ang bawat hinga at pag-utot mo. sa sarili mong kabisado ang abwat kumpas at indayog ng iyong katawan. dahil sa huli, talikuran ka ma't di unawain ng lahat, nandon ang sarili mong batid ang katotohanan ng iyong pagkatao. nagmamahal...

may walang katapusang pag-unawa.

Out? by McVie

2010-09-01T14:44:00.001+08:00

by McVie

I am not officially out.

Yes, ladies (wait, wait… are there any in the audience?) and gentlemen, McVie is still officially in the closet. Technically still in the closet. And I’m fine with it.

I can already hear the great groaning of viewers going, “Hu-whaaat?!”

Let me backtrack.

The year was 1987. My boyfriend was still just a mischievous gleam in his parents’ eyes. It was nearly December, and the days were shorter, the nights colder. My classmate and I were on our last semester, trying to finish our thesis. Yes, he’s THE classmate, my big crush. I was running out of time, and I needed to know: Is there a chance that G, my classmate and friend, will also see me as something more than just a friend? I only knew one way to find out, and that was to come out to him.

Well, we all know how that turned out. So much for my very first coming out.

A few months after graduation, I had to tell someone else, so I came out to my second closest friend, a girl. She was slightly shocked, cuz she didn’t expect it. But it took her almost less than a minute to process it, then she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Ah, okay!” And then she proceeded to ask me who among our guy classmates were my crushes.

I slowly and quietly came out to my closest friends first, especially those involved in the theater. But at my first job, I stayed in the closet. I still wasn’t sure if my officemates will like me or not if I admitted I was gay. Looking back, given that I was working at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the bastion of Philippine culture and arts and the home to a hundred happy homosexuals, I realize now that I was probably at my stupidest.

So I vowed to myself that in my next work place, I will make it a point to come out to my officemates. And everyone I worked with knew I was gay.

But I never came out to my family and relatives. Or rather, they’re the only ones I’ve not formally told. Have I dropped hints? Nope. Do I leave clues? Not a bit. My mom subscribes to Catholic Digest; she once reasoned out that a female cousin of mine was “nawala ang landas” because she had lesbian friends. So my policy has always been: If they don’t ask, I don’t volunteer; but if they ask, I won’t lie.

So it’s only my kin who don’t know. Or do they? Manila is such a small town; my siblings’ friends have friends who are friends with my friends. And I am so out to my friends. So I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told someone even by accident. Which actually makes me think that coming out, for me, is really just a formality.

But if I were to dig way back, I think my coming out was really during high school. I knew even when I was in grade school that I was attracted to guys; but it was mostly admiration to those guys with handsome faces and well-built bodies. I was blissfully unaware of gay sex until I started watching movies alone in movie houses in Cubao.

I think it was in Quezon Theater. I don’t even remember what movie I was watching. I only remember the guy sitting next to me even though there were plenty other seats. I remember his right hand brushing my left leg. I remember being scared yet excited. I felt like I was burning in Hell from the inside. Every caress he made sent seismic shivers all the way inside my body. The higher his hand slid up my thigh, the hotter and harder I got. Until, bingo! He cupped my crotch first, then squeezed gently, feeling my burning hardness inside my jeans. When he managed to unzip my pants and bring my throbbing manhood out, I could almost see steam coming out of my pants. And then he went down on me. My mental synapses flipped and overloaded. My body was on fire. And in that instant, I knew, I just knew, that this is precisely what my body wants, that I needed a man’s lips and tongue to please my raging hard-on.

The first time I had sex was in a movie house; it was just oral sex, but it felt like an out-of-body experience. Now that’s coming out.

The Day I Came Out to My Mother by Daredevilry

2010-09-01T14:41:00.002+08:00

by Daredevilry

I was at Robinson’s Galleria on a date. I was meeting my date for the first time. I lived with my younger sister on a side street along Recto Avenue and I had to take the G Liner bus to get to the mall. It was summer and my mom was with us. I left her at home with my younger sister.

In the middle of my date, I received a text from my mom. She asked me where I was and who I was with. I told her I was at the mall with some friends. She told me to take care and that I should keep in mind that she loves me. It was weird for her to say that unexpectedly. I paid it no mind and just replied saying I love her too before turning my attention back to my date.

The date went well. We had lunch together and watched a movie. As soon as the cinema’s lights dimmed, we held hands, kissed and massaged each other’s hardness. After the movie, we promised to keep in touch and went our separate ways.

When I got home, my sister waited for me downstairs. Our room was at the second floor of the house and we had to pass a narrow hallway and climb a flight of stairs to get to it. She looked concerned. She told me that mom read my yellow notebook.

Tears immediately rolled down my cheeks. My heart felt like a drum on my chest, beating a noisy tune. A single thought was in my mind. I could not possibly face my mom. So I ran.

From San Sebastian Street, I ran along Recto until I reached Avenida Rizal. She must have rummaged through my clothes and found the notebook at the bottom of my underwear drawer.

I turned left and ran until I reached Carriedo. On that notebook, I wrote the names of the men I had sex with on the leftmost column of a page. Then there were columns for different sexual activities and I checked each activity I did with a particular guy.

I turned left and ran until I reached the Quiapo Church. I was no longer crying. Did we kiss? Check. Did he suck me? Check. Did I suck him? Check. Did I fuck him? Check.

I was panting so hard that I stopped running. I crossed the street through the underpass. I even wrote comments for each guy. Was he a good kisser? Was he good in bed? Did he have bad breath? Should I meet him again?

I walked along Hidalgo Street. San Sebastian Church was visible from where I walked. How could I have been so careless? I should not even have started that notebook. To have kept it in a place easily found was stupid of me.

I reached a decision when I reached my house. I was going to face mom and tell her I am gay.

I entered the room. Mom was at the window, hands were on the balustrade, looking at the street downstairs. She did not even turn to look at me when I came in.

“Gays are everywhere these days,” she said.

“Ma?” My voice faltered. “Is there something you want to ask?”

She turned and looked at me. “Why? Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked.

“Maaaaaaaa…,” was all I said before I started crying again. I wept furiously, my shoulders shrugged with each sniff. I sat on my bed.

Mom sat beside me.

“It’s okay son. It’s okay to be curious. You just want to find out what it feels like,” she said.

“No Ma. I’m not curious. I’m really sure,” I said.

“But what about all those girlfriends of yours?” she asked.

“I never really liked them,” I said.

“No. No. You cannot be gay. You have to fight it,” she said.

“I don’t want to,” I said.

She did not say anything to that so I continued to cry instead. She stood up and went out of the room. I was no longer crying when she came back. Two hours passed since she left.

She brought dinner. The three of us ate in silence. We avoided the topic that night and for succeeding nights, we acted as though everything was fine. She went back to the province without us talking about it.

Months later, she told me she wanted to meet my boyfriend. It was her way of saying she accepted me. I was happy that my mom finally came to terms with his son’s gayness.

Although mom knew, my dad, my older brother and my older sister did not. It was still months and years away before they too found out.

In by J

2010-09-01T14:35:00.000+08:00

by J

The spotlight was on September, a poreless-skinned hunky law student. The celebration was very calculated. I was forewarned of the level of sensitivity of the reason why we were gathering that night. September was both happy and sad that he was finally out with his mom who caught him with another man in his room.

They were having sex, alright.

September said he was not ready yet, not to have sex with men, but to be caught by his mom. Who is?

But, really, can that be possibly planned? Like--okay, at 2 p.m. today, I will have sex with this guy I am going to pick up from the mall and I am going to make it sure that mom catches us sucking each other's dick. And to do that, to make sure that mom will be there, I will have to text her--Mom, I need your support. I'm having sex this afternoon. You must be there.

Of couse, he meant he wasn't ready to go out of that see-through cabinet yet. Not to his mom.

Looking at September that drizzly night--in that bar beside that bar called Boystown--I could sense the overflowing gayness in him. And he was happy more than sad.

He sang Christina Aguilera's Reflection. And he loved it when I did Helen Reddy's I Don't Know How To Love Him. And he adored I Know Him So Well. Another friend sang You Must Love me. We felt so musical that night. Broadway, it was.

...

January just recently arrived from NZ for the first time since he left the country when he was only 11 years old. He is 24 now. Days after his homecoming, he met February, my friend. Quickly, they became lovers. And because they're lovers, January often found himself spending the night with us. And overnights at February's.

January's mom began to wonder and asked too many questions about his friends. About us. And about February whom she already met. Feeling the pressure, one day, January decided to tell all.

"I walked with her her. I was really scared but prepared to go all the way that no amount of fear could possibly stop me from telling her the truth. The problem was I had no idea how to break it to her except to say that 'mom, di ko na kayo mabibigyan ng apo," said January.

And his spiel was followed. And the mom said--Bakit? Baog ka ba?

...

In one of our private conversations, May, whom I never thought of being a lesbian, sent me this--Sa sitwasyon ko, parang walang gustong mag-move on. Char! Basta, komplikado! Patunay yan na ang pagiging bakla ay pamumuhay sa panahon ng pakikidigma.

...

As for me, I have never been out. Not to anyone. And will never come out. I will always be IN. Forever. Char!

What Your Soul Sings by The ZEN Bitch

2010-09-01T12:01:00.000+08:00

By The ZEN Bitch

Like most things in my life, my coming out to my parents did not happen in one spectacular event that shook the world. There was no heart-rending drama: no tears, hysterics, or some other violent reaction to my disclosure. Life went on in its usual pace in my family. The dramatic moments happened later but they would pale when compared to the dramas that have been chronicled in literature and films, even in the lives of some of my friends. If you ask my mother, she would say that my coming out happened the way things in life happen: it just happened. However, on my side, it took months of planning, preparation, and execution.

As I said, my coming out was not one big event. It happened gradually. Since I didn’t have the gumption to come up to either of my parents to boldly declare that I am homosexual, my plan was to leave them little clues here and there until it got to the point where they would have no choice but to ask me outright. Unlike me, my mother has lots of gumption. But as it came to pass, things also sort of fell into place a year before it happened, which further facilitated the process.

Mama and I

You see, I had known that I’m not like other boys since I was 7 years old. In the year of my first communion, I would spend most of the recess looking at older boys as they played basketball. I was particularly attracted to the sight of calves, where the sock ended, dimpling the flesh. Of course I had no way of explaining my feelings then. When I was 10 years old, an older boy–the son of my mother’s friend, seduced me while we were playing in our backyard one early evening. This boy, R, would teach me the first things I learned about sex. As a good (I thought) Catholic school boy my guilt surprisingly minuscule. I’m not sure now what I was thinking then. How I coped with that secret. But then again, when you’re an only child, you quickly learn to keep things to yourself. In college, separated from the company of that older boy, I completely abstained from male-to-male sex. I got so busy with my own life as a college student–the new kinds of freedom I’d been given, new friends, new pursuits (like my crushes on girls), that I didn’t pay attention to that part of my life. I didn’t have sex with another guy until 1993, months after graduating from university. Before that year ended, I was in my first relationship with a guy. This lasted about 6 months. Three months after V and I broke up I met my second boyfriend. This second relationship was more intense but lasted barely 4 months. A week after T and I broke up, I met my third. N was my boyfriend when I came out to my mother.

At work, I never had to come out because I had the good fortune of working for an NGO that was staffed by mostly gay men. In fact, before ReachOut, I didn’t know any gay person aside from our neighborhood hairdresser who cuts my mother’s hair once every month. I volunteered at ReachOut as a telephone counselor in the AIDS HelpLine while awaiting the results of my board exams. When I got my professional license, they hired me as staff. My sexuality was never an issue there. Same with my second job in 1996, as a reporter for Balitang K. I mean, our head writer was gay, most of the production assistants were gay, including 3 other reporters so it was also a non-issue. However, because I was the new guy that time, I didn’t have the clout to demand my own stories so I worked on stories that were assigned to me. Of course, they considered my health background (a nurse who worked in the AIDS field) and my (perceived) sexuality.

My relationship and my work contributed to my coming out.

N, my boyfriend, was a medical representative who was based in Nueva Ecija, a province north of Manila. We would spend Saturdays together, usually in a mall, watching movies, going to museums and shows and around midnight I would sneak him in our house where we’d have sex in my room and then between 3-4am, he’d sneak out and drive back to Nueva Ecija. During weekdays we would burn the telephone lines by alternately calling each other everyday. This was 1996. Mobile phones were a luxury and our landline phone didn’t have NDD. So whenever I called N, I had to go through the operator and this was reflected in our monthly phone bill. I paid for my long-distance calls, which at that time amounted to about USD25.oo a month. This was one of my clues. She wanted to know who I was calling in Cabanatuan and I told her I was calling a friend. When she demanded to know which among my friends (because I didn’t have many friends, my mother knew all few of them) was it, I just told her a friend I met at work.

Eventually, N said he was getting tired of sneaking into my house at night. He said he wanted to meet my parents so he can properly have permission to sleep over. I tensed when I first heard this because I have never let any friend do this. I have slept over at my friends’ houses but they have never done so in ours. But he was persistent and I thought, well, this is another clue. So one Saturday evening, I went home at around 8pm, with N in tow. My mother was clearly surprised to see N. I explained that N was going to spend the night because he was too tired to drive to Nueva Ecija. She then realized that this was the guy that I’d been talking to via long distance. Being a good salesperson, N managed to establish rapport with my mother. She was soon taken by his charm, while my father silently hovered in the distance. After that sleep-over, N would be a frequent visitor in our house. My mother remarked to me that N was handsome, but a bit effeminate. I laughed. N did too when I told him.

A few weeks after that sleep-over, I started work at Balitang K. If I’d been a child actor, my mother would gladly be the perfect stage mother. When I worked for Balitang K, she became an avid watcher of the TV show, eagerly awaiting the airing of the stories I wrote. On the month that I came out to my mother, the line-up of my stories were like the breadcrumbs Hansel threw to lead them back home. Consider this: week 1, my story was on gay HIV(+) Filipinos; week 2, it was on a research on whether eating mussels from Laguna de Bay can make one gay (ridiculous, I know!); week 3, a lesbian-affair-gone-wrong in the PNP; and week 4, covering the LGBT Pride March in Malate.

It happened on Sunday morning, when I went home after spending the night at the studio because we were editing my segment on the Pride March, which I covered on Saturday afternoon till evening. At 5AM, I was barely awake as I sipped the scalding coffee and took bites of the fried rice and scrambled eggs that my mother cooked. The house was silent. She asked me when the segment would air. “Monday po,” I said. She asked me what my story was. I said I covered the LGBT Pride March in Malate.

“Bakit parang puro ganyan ang mga kuwento mo nitong buwan na ‘to?” (Why are stories like this for this month?)

I asked her what she meant but inside I knew that something was up. Finally, I thought. The desire to sleep evaporated.

“Parang lahat kabadingan.” (They all seem to be about homosexuality.)

I chewed on my food longer than I usually did. I didn’t want to pursue this line of conversation. I was waiting for her penultimate question, which I knew was coming because she was fidgeting. My mother rarely fidgeted.

“Anak, puwede ba kitang tanungin nang personal na tanong?” (Son, can I ask you a personal question?)

“Sige po,” (Sure) I said, feeling a ball of fried rice suddenly stopped midway my gullet.

“Bading ka ba?” (Are you gay?) Her chinky eyes were alert.

“Opo.” (Yes.)

“Sigurado ka ba?” (Are you sure)

“Opo.” (Yes.)

“Si N?” (What about N?)

“Bading din po.” (We’re the same.)

“Mag-ano kayo?” (Are you together?)

“Opo.” (Yes.)

“Paano yun, pareho kayong bading?” (How can that be, you’re both gay?)

“Ganun po talaga, para magtagal.” (It has to be like that, for the relationship to last.)

“Bakit, gaano katagal na ba kayo?” (Why, how long have you been together?)

“Mag-iisang taon na po.” (Almost a year.)

She then became silent, slowly nodding her head. By this time, the food was a tasteless mass inside my mouth. The coffee had become tepid. But her face was calm. I was expecting the opposite. Her next statement moved me. “Alam mo, baka mahirapan ang Papa mo na maintindihan ito.” (You know, your father might have a tough time processing this.)

I hadn’t exactly prepared for my father’s reaction, if truth be told. “Sasabihin niyo po ba sa kanya?” (Are you going to tell him?)

“Kung malalaman niya, hindi dapat manggaling sa akin.” (If he is to know, he should not learn it from me.) And when she saw that I had finished eating, she proceeded to clear the table, asking me if I wanted another cup of coffee. As if nothing happened. I was a bit flummoxed. I had prepared an armory of responses to deal with her reaction. But her seeming non-reaction perplexed me and filled me with relief at the same time.

As it turned out, she couldn’t keep that information to herself. Three weeks later, she told Papa what I had told her. My father did not speak to me for months. He and I weren’t particularly close; sometimes a day would pass when we would just exchange nods. But this was utter silence from his end. I understood his reaction. I am an only child. I practically ended his bloodline with my disclosure. He only spoke to me again at Christmas, over a few bottles of beer. It seemed we had reached some sort of understanding, by not talking about it.

Also, my mother’s seemingly cavalier attitude to my disclosure disguised a few other things: apprehensions, fears, some homophobic and stereotypical thoughts. Here came the dramatic moments. It has taken me years to dispel some of the things she grew up with. To her credit, she was never ashamed of me. She and N became friends, even when my relationship with him ended. To this day, they think of each other fondly.

On hindsight, deep inside I think I was scared then on how my parents would respond to knowing that aspect of my life. As an only child who had mastered the art of keeping secrets early on, letting others hear the songs that my soul sings was a terrifying undertaking. Fortunately, my mother chose to react not according to how she was raised but to how she felt for me. Even my father. I love them for that.

Ang Paglaladlad ni Miguel

2010-09-01T11:51:00.000+08:00

ni Miguel

Eight years old ako nung nagsimula akong makaramdam ng kakaiba towards my sexuality.

Dumating ako sa point na mas nageenjoy akong kalaro ay yung mga kapatid kong babae or mga kaibigan kong babae, pero minsan nakikipag-laro pa din ako sa mga kapitbahay naming lalaki.

Nagagalit ako sa kanila kapag tinatawag nila akong bakla. Alam ko kahit sa murang edad, alam ko na yun talaga ako pero ayokong tanggapin.

Sa nung elementary ako nagka-crush ako sa girl, pero eventually I realized.. DI KAMI TALO.

Nung high school na ako, sa all boys school ko na-realized at natanggap sa sarili ko na bading ako.

Dito ako natutong umibig sa isang kaklase kong lalaki ng palihim.

Dumating sa punto na ako ang gumagawa ng mga projects niya at home works niya.

Araw ng JS Prom, sinabi ko sa tatay ko na may susundo sa akin para kasabay kong pumunta sa venue ng prom.

Sabi niya, "Ok sige anak papuntahin mo na lang ang mga barkada mo dito para maihatid ko kayo dun."

Di ko alam kung saan ako nakakuha ng lakas ng loob, pero sinabi ko sa kanyang di ko barkada ang pupunta kundi boyfriend ko.

Ni hindi nagbago ang expression sa mukha niya. Akala ko maglalabas siya ng baril at tututukan niya ako (dating pulis ang tatay ko)

Pero isang himala, eto ang kanyang sinabi "matagal ko ng alam anak, ikaw lang ang di makatanggap sa sarili mo na bakla ka"

Sinabi nya pa na "Bata ka pa lang, kitang kita na sa kilos at mga gusto mo na bakla ka, gusto mo si Darna at si Wonderwoman. Gusto ko maging masaya ka anak, tanggapin mo ang sarili mo na ganyan ka para matanggap ka din ng ibang tao. Di mo makukuha ang pagtanggap at respeto ng ibang tao kung hindi mo kayang ibigay yun sa sarili mo."

Huli niyang paalala: "Huwag ka lang gagawa ng mga bagay na ikakasira ng pangalan natin.."

Walang kapantay na ligaya ang naramdaman ko ng mga oras na yun. Dahil alam kong ang isa sa mga importanteng tao sa buhay ko ay tanggap ako.

when coming out is not an option by John Stanley

2010-09-01T11:41:00.000+08:00

by John Stanley

after a short trip down memory lane, it's confirmed. i don't have any coming out story to tell.

and perhaps, years will pass and that same thought will never be entertained.

some of you may judge me for doing so. but in the first place, i don't seek anyone's acceptance. circumstances differ for each of us. believe me, i have a lot more to lose should i opt to come out in the open.

what matters is that i accept myself for who i am.

that is more than enough... for now.

21 at 2:55

2010-09-01T02:55:00.003+08:00

Laddies and gents, here is the first installment of theorgy's coming out project.

Twenty one becks. Twenty one posts. Twenty one takes on coming out.

Bobby Barbecho. Boss Becky. Buquir. Cursedgoodblessing@27. Echoserita. Ex Jason. Fickle cow. Jaytee. Justin. Lee. Mandaya Moore. Manila Raunch. Mel Beckham. Melanie. Nimmy. Red The Mod. Richie. Takeshi. Thomasian Psychologist. Von Draye. Dean.

More to come.

Ladlad by Echoserita

2010-09-01T02:26:00.000+08:00

by Echoserita

Hindi ito pagsusuporta sa isang party list. Peksman! Wala akong ibang sinusuportohan kundi ang sarili ko lamang. Ganyan ako kaselfish. Anong paki mo?

Ang kwentong ito ay tungkol sa kung paano ako nagkaroon ng pakpak na mala-mariposa: kayumanggi, maalikabok, madetalye, at marupok. Maaring mas maganda ang pakpak ng isang paru-paro pero napaka-ambisyosa ko kung doon ko ihahantulad ang aking pakpak, ang simbolo ng aking pagiging malayang lumipad. At pwede ba, wag niyo na ring isuggest na pakpak ng paniki na lang. Kagimbal-gimbal. Che! Bigyan niyo naman ako ng konting awa.

Ito ang kwento ng aking paglaladlad. Kung paano ako lumabas sa aparador (in English, coming out of the closet).

Pero sa totoo lang, wala naman talaga kaming aparador sa bahay e, kaya hindi applicable ang term. Gaga!

Tinatanong ko noon kay Bro kung bakit ba ako naging ganito. Di naman niya ako sinagot. Ang sumagot ay ang mga diyosa. Takot ko ay! Isipin mo nga yun, yung sasagutin ka ng hangin.

Hindi ako sigurado kung saan nagsimula ang aking pagkabakla. Minsan naiisip ko nun na baka ako ay sinumpa. Minsan din, naiisip kong eh baka resulta ito ng malnutrisyon: nagkulang na sa bitamina at mineral ang utak ko at natuyuan ng sustansiyang magtataguyod ng paglalabas ng mga hormong nakakapagpalalake. Yung tunay na lalake. (Pre, pahiram naman lipstick dyan!) Minsan pa din, napapasabi ako sa sarili kong, “Ah, ito marahil ang epekto ng pagkaoverdose ko ng paracetamol noon.”

Walang malinaw na sanhi. Walang makapagsasabing bakit nagkaganito. Wala. Walang himala!

Ang alam ko lang, bigla ko na lang sinusuot noon ang panty ng kapatid ko. Aba, ang landi nga naman, di ba? Buti kumasya. Feel kong mujer ako. Feeling may vajayjay. Feeling babaylan. Feeling bilat.

At imbis na makipag-agawan ako noon ng trak at matchbox sa kuya ko, eh andun lang ako sa kwarto, tahimik na naglalaro ng paper dolls. Kung di ko man nilalaro mga yun, eh abala ako sa kagagawa ng damit nila. Bongga!

Hindi ko rin maipaliwanag noong inosenta pa lang ako kung bakit kapag nanonood sina kuya at papa, kasama ng ilang mga pinsan ko, ng makamundong palabas eh dun ako sa lalake nabubuhayan ng dugo. Kebs sa mujer! Kinabog siya ng imahinasyon ko, ng pagnanasa ko sa kalaro niya ng apoy sa palabas.

At kung bakit ang mga larawang ito noong kabataan ko ay nagkaganito, ewan ko. Ito ang mga ebidensiya ng pagkakaroon ko ng sayad noong ako’y isang mumunting mariposa pa lamang. Matawa ka na kung tawa, pero yan ang totoo. Eksenadora ang inyong lingkod. Kahit noong kabataan niya ay may mga sintomas na ng pagiging impaktang baklita.

Nang tumuntong ako ng elementary, dun na ako nagsimulang mahulog sa kapwa may lawit. Grade 6. Hanggang sa naitaguyod ang pagkakagusto sa kapwa may talong sa high school. Papalit-palit ng kinahulugan ng loob. Hanggang sa dumating ang araw na unang nagkaboypren sa kolehiyo. At nasundan pa ng kung sinu-sinong bumiyak sa puso ko at sa pagkababae ko, sa pagkabirhen ko. (Coming soon: post na pinamagatang “To All The Boys I Loved Before”).Sa ngayon, kung alin mang daan ang tinahak ko, wala akong pinagsisihan. Masaya ako. Masaya ang ganito. Masarap. Hindi mapait, di mapakla. Hindi lasang paminta. Walang tinatago. Ladlad kung ladlad.

Makulay ang mundo ng isang vaklush. Maraming thrills. Maraming adbentyur. Pero hindi ako nanghihikayat na maging katulad ka namin, dahil kung ikaw ay may balak na maging isa sa amin, utang na loob, wag na! Mataas na ang kumpetisyon. Nag-aagawan na ng mga resources. Chos! Di din pedeng talo-talo, pwede ba!

Ang pagiging bukas sa madla kung ano ang totoong ikaw ay isang napakatapang na desisyon. Maaring marami ang hindi agad makakaunawa at makatanggap. Ngunit kapag ikaw mismo ay tanggap mo kung ano ka at hindi mo ito ikinakahiya, ganundin ang magiging pagtanggap sa iyo ng mga tao. Ang paglaladlad ay di nangangahulugang ipagsigawan mo sa mundo ang kung anong sayad meron ka. Maraming anyo ang paglalahad. At ang anyo nito ay natatangi sa iyo.

Kaya sa mga hindi pa alam kung ano at sino talaga sila, isa lang ang payo ko: magpakatotoo. At utang na loob, wag nang magtago sa closeta. Wag maging closet queen, dahil ang totoo walang reynang nakakubli sa aparador. Ang reyna ay ninamnam ang pagkakaupo sa trono. At ang reyna ay…

AKO!

At dahil diyan, ito ang Song for the Post natin ngayon: Eminem - Cleaning Out My Closet

“I’m sorry, Mama. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you cry but tonight I’m cleaning out my closet.”

Lisanin na ang aparador! Linisin na ang closeta! Lumabas ka na! Isa kang malaking dumi sa closeta! Niyahaha…

Coming Out to My Mom by Ex Jason

2010-09-01T02:14:00.000+08:00

by Ex Jason

“May kailangan ba akong malaman tungkol sa’yo?” My mom’s voice was stern. It was just over the phone but I still cringed. It was just like when I was still a little boy: me cowering while she scolded me for breaking my toy. Only this time, it was my life that I was ruining.

The semester was already coming to a close. Graduation day was approaching and I was supposed to be among those who will march. But I failed to finish my Special Problem, which meant I was going to be extended for yet another semester. My mother went ballistic when I told her. She can’t be blamed, really; I had already exceeded our curriculum’s span by two years. That was because I messed everything up on my third year. Now that I was going to add another semester to my stay in the university, my mother can’t help but think that I was messing up again. She was going to get answers if she has to beat them out of me. Yeah, just like when I was a still a little boy.

“Ano’ng kailangang malaman?” I asked in a small voice.

“Tungkol sa’yo. Tungkol sa personality mo.”

She knew. Of course she did, she was my mother. No matter how I try, I can never keep a secret from her. The problem is, whenever I confirm her suspicions, she gets angry. That’s why I’m always apprehensive when she tries to squeeze a confession out of me. Besides, why was she asking me this at this time? Does she think it was to blame for my delay? Or was she simply taking advantage of my helplessness to make me answer the question that has long been bothering her?

“Ma.. Kasi..” My voice was helpless, pleading even.

“Anak, sige na. Sabihin mo na sa akin kung ano man yan.”

I started to cry. The day that I had been dreading had come, and her attempt at a comforting voice did not help at all. Was she just pretending that she will be a good sport no matter what I was going to tell her? I was not sure, but I was inclined to think that way. Blame it on the countless times we’ve been through similar situations. This was also what she did three years ago when I screwed up big time in school. She made me believe that she was on my side and that we were going to fix my problems together. Instead, she pulled me out of school for one semester and tried to fix me.

“Anak, kahit ano pa ang mangyari, nanay mo ako. Kakampi mo ako,” she said gently.

I was taken aback. I didn’t expect such gentleness from her voice. It got me to thinking maybe I was too quick to judge her. She was my mother after all, and mothers are supposed to know best.

“Jason, anak, bakla ka ba?” The dreaded question suddenly came. The moment had been building up to this, but I was still unprepared.

I figured my life was already falling to pieces, might as well get this over with now. What’s one more piece?

“Oo ma,” I said between sobs. “At may boyfriend ako. Malapit na kami mag two years.”

There was dead silence from her end.

“Ma, wala tong kinalaman sa SP ko. Hindi ito ang reason kung bakit hindi ko yun natapos. Pero tinanong mo na din kaya eto, inaamin ko na din. Ma, I’m gay.”

The silence continued. Trust my life to always be replete with telenovela scenes. Just weeks ago my boyfriend and I nearly broke up. And it has only been a few days since I realized that I wouldn’t be able to finish my SP on time; I had just recovered from the daze. And now this.

“Anak,” she finally said. I sobbed harder after hearing that word. She and I had a very fragile relationship and we both knew it. Ever since I started living away from home back in high school, our once strong bond had seemingly thinned to a thread. Hearing her utter that word at that moment reminded me that I can still hold on to that thread.

“Kahit ano pa ang mangyari, nanay mo ako. Mahal na mahal kita,” she said in gentle voice. That was enough to cast away all of my doubts. I had made the right decision in telling her.

I wish it ended with that, but my life, as I so often realize, is as far from a fairy tale as can be.

She wanted me to change, or rather, she tried to change me. She attempted to cloak it, probably because she did not want to add to the strain, but it wasn’t difficult to spot.

She told me to move to my cousin’s because she’d be more at ease knowing that I was being taken care of. The travel from my cousin’s to my school takes two hours. It would actually be more inconvenient as opposed to staying with my boyfriend in our apartment which just outside the university.

She once forwarded to me the number of one of my classmates from grade school. A girl. She said she just wanted to me to keep in touch with my friends from our town.

She suggested that we talk to someone to help us with our strained relationship. I agreed, and then asked if she knew any therapists. She said she was actually thinking of talking to a priest. I immediately withdrew my approval.

She broke down when I told her that I joined an LGBT organization in our university. I think that was the time she felt the full blow. I was gay and I was not going to change. She cried. It was heartbreaking to see someone as strong as her break down, but she had to understand that this was not something she could fix. It was not something that was broken in the first place.

“Paano ka na anak? Habang andito ako , alam mong ipagtatanggol kita. Paano pag wala na ako? Natatakot ako baka ano na mangyari sa iyo.”

I resolved not to cry. It was at the point that I resolved not to show her any weakness.

“Wag kang mag alala ma. Pinalaki mo akong matapang. Tayong dalawa lang naman ang magkasama mula pa noon, eh di kanino pa ba ako magmamana?” I said as I hugged her. I reassured her that everything will be alright, though it was not something that I entirely believed in either.

We are still pretty much shaky until now, more than a year after I came out. Coming out had further complicated our already complicated relationship. There are a lot of questions on both sides. But we’ll figure it out eventually. That’s what mothers and sons do.

Coming out...as a raunch loving guy by manila raunch

2010-09-01T02:12:00.000+08:00

for manila raunch, coming out was pretty easy. he didnt have that much trouble from his family or himself in really understanding what was happening. sure there was the identity question and the label issue, but thankfully, he got over the drama fast and just accepted who he was.

now, coming out as someone who dabbles in all things raunchy is a different story. especially before manila raunch found his hubby, dating and getting to know can be quite a problem.

life as a raunch purveyor can be a double-edged sword. on one-hand, it's great for one night stands and play sessions. if i charged everytime someone would tell me that it was the first time they had experienced that, i could probably quit my dayjob. it's also great once you find fellow raunch enthusisasts. the conversations flow easily, inhibitions are dropped and everything just mellows out, contrary to what people think (that all we talk about is how to get hot, dirty sex)

but once you're dating or interested in dating, then BAM! life hits your right in the kisser. vanilla people, once they find out youre into raunch easily puts you into a box of either:

a) psycho person--as if only the demented can like getting pissed on.
b) player--if you're into raunch and good at it, they automatically think you play around and thus not worth dating--regardless if he called you soulmate over dessert; once he sees the whip, you're just one sick playing freak.
c) person who'll give them an STI--see letter b. interpolate.

finding a good man who can understand, tolerate or better yet join in on the raunch fun is quite a difficult task. then there's the matter of finding if your kinks match (what if you're both masters or slaves?)

i wish i had better advice to people who like raunch as to whether to come out with their desires or keep it hidden. personally, even i play it by ear. if you're dating, i suggest you hide the harness till oh, say the first year. keep it slow and let your partner's own boredom with vanilla ( and believe me, he will get bored) be your cue to bring out the harness.

or talk to your partner about it-and do it discreetly. let's face it, if your partner's a true blue vanilla lover, he aint gonna go lookin for some chocolate...ever! so best that you lay down your cards and tell him that while you love him and only want him to spend your life with. you still need that fresh from the tap golden shower every now and then. he'll probably scream, be disgusted, think of breaking up with you...but if he's truly your man, he's accept you---both your clean and dirty side. after all, isnt coming out about acceptance in the first place?

(graphic came from www.recon.com)

(Coming Out?) Headless Profile by Jaytee

2010-09-01T02:06:00.000+08:00

by Jaytee

I accidentally published this a day early LOL. FAIL!

The term coming out seems too vague for me. What does it really mean? Am I even in the closet at all?

People define it as being true to who you are and freeing yourself from hiding, hence the term closet. The term hiding in the closet must have arisen from the determination of the so-called social deviants to hide from the clouded eyes of society. It's ironic really how we find solace in the confines of a closet but when we are little didn't we learn that that's where boogie man resides?

However, comparing this closet to that of the horror flick isn't helping much. So I'll just write about coming out under the premise that it's about conforming to labels and why I'm not doing it. I can think of 3 major reasons on top of my head why I choose not to

UNCERTAINTY
Some people are very certain of things around them. It's as if they see the world in black and white. I on the other hand do not. Even as a child, we learned that things aren't really what they seem. That the orange isn't really orange in color but it's merely the light that bounces from it.

You might say that I'm just indecisive but when did it say that we have to define who we are just for the convenience of others? That choosing sides is the only way to live?

Am I really gay? Am I straight? Bisexual? I seem to ask that often where it seems that identity is such a commodity nowadays. I find it to be frivolous to define myself in that manner but it's our [human’s] ultimate desire to belong however that I will eventually come to choose what label of sexuality best suites me and society.

REACTION
People have images of themselves and others. These images help them to define who they are and better understand others.

This however is a double edge sword for if we fail to live up to the picture we paint of ourselves then we lose the definition of our identity. Shattering expectations are more often bad than good to the people who do it.

I do not necessarily fear the bigotry that may arise from coming out but rather the image that could be painted of me from all the stereotypes. Yes, I am shallow enough to be affected by people’s perception of me. We all are.

Most importantly I fear my reaction to myself.

LACK OF REASON ITSELF
I asked someone before when he will have a reason to “out” himself to his family. He simply answered, “When I have someone who will give me a reason to.”

It sounded cheesy and my first reaction was to tease him but when you dissect what he said, it seems logical and realistic. I mean if you’re like me who isn’t even conflicted with labeling himself then why the rush right?

This is not even me wallowing about my singleness. It makes perfect sense to out yourself only when all the right reasons are there and I’m not even talking about having a partner.

I do not answer to anyone and I don’t owe anyone the definition of my sexuality. That time may or may not come when I finally choose to label myself but until then I’m comfortable with the way things are now being a headless profile.

the plan by lee

2010-09-01T02:00:00.000+08:00

by lee

“It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things.” – Donald Miller

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i had everything planned.

i was to treat them to dinner. good food, light conversations and enjoy each other’s company.

then after, go somewhere intimate and quiet where we could continue talking just about anything. and slowly segue the very purpose of my invite.

i’ve rehearsed what i was supposed to say. i had everything carefully scripted. prepared answers to questions that might come up. even had lies prepared just in case there are certain questions that i might not yet be ready to reveal.

i was about to strip myself down and be true to two of my close friends.

so, why all this preparation?

i guess the very simple answer is, i had to do it. i needed to do it. i feel like if i don’t tell anyone, i might just burst and go crazy. i felt like that the emotion was eating me up. for quite a long time, i kept how i really feel to myself. but there came a point where i had to have an outlet. to just be me. to be free.

the plan was not all that perfect. it went through a couple of postponements. but, it happened all at the right time.

and i am glad i did. i came out.

first, to myself. then, to two friends i’ve considered very close to. to my co-workers and colleagues. to other PLUs (most of whom i’ve been able to get to know here). and to a few more friends.

it was a whole new discovery. i’ve become closer to my friends. uotten to know wonderful people. Uncovered a whole new me.

and right now, i am preparing myself once again.

for the most important plan.

for my family.

soon.

to define a man by red the mod

2010-09-01T01:56:00.000+08:00

The opposite of courage in our society is not cowardice, it is conformity.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Rollo May

To come out is to claim it. To profess with little regard, and even with brash pride, the disagreement of our preference with the norm. But to do so would entail that the norm is absolute, or that to be normal is aspirational. The precept of free will is its inherent acceptance, albeit embracing, of individualism. It is no less human to be homosexual than it is to be heterosexual. In fact, both could be disruptive and impeding in certain circumstances. What is absolute is emotion, feeling, and attraction. The ability of one to feel for, and of, another. This makes him human. And whether that someone is of the same sex is inconsequential.

Gender is a conception. A method and a label. A mere tool to create order, and by thus making the idea of it easily comprehensible. But where labels fail is when society defines the semiotics of these labels. Thus leading to discrimination, and bigotry. To come out and claim this label is to subject oneself to the connotations it encloses. So to say that I am gay is conceding to a misnomer, and a misconception. To belie the fact that I am much more than the preference I consume. Much, much more. I'm not a heterosexual, true, but I am also not just a homosexual.

The facets of a gem do not define its brilliance.

I am not compelled to profess it. Is there a need to? But if asked, my honesty would be provided. But I refuse to be simplified into a word without dimension. I am a myriad of things, none by any far capacity can fully expound on my totality. I am a mind, and a heart, a psyche and a body, I am my beliefs, and passions, my talents and my actions. I am a man, who just happens to fancy other men.

In a perfect world, the capacity to love, or simply attraction, should be enough. But we do not inhabit a perfect world, and to long for a utopian reality is a fodder all human beings pine for, in the spectrum of both homosexual and heterosexual inclinations. Who is to say that our discrimination is any greater, or more absolute, than those of others? We are beings of thought, and to believe that perfection, total acceptance, is achievable in this lifetime is akin to saying that we can undo the wreckage of our race on the environment in the very same breathe. We can't.

But we can choose to live our lives with the decency of our own humanity.

Image from here.

by red the mod

Pasabooowg! Tamaaaaah! :) by Nimmy

2010-09-01T01:54:00.000+08:00

by Nimmy

On the last day of our communications training, miss friendly trainer asked us to play the game "Two Truths and One Lie." SInce walang magawa at bored na ang lahat pumayag na kami. We were not familiar with it so we requested her to go first. Her options were...

(1) I have a kid,

(2) I'm a widow, and

(3) She's a lesbo.

Syempre pinahulaan nya sa amin kung alin ang kasinungalingan. Most of the answers i heard were number 1. Nag-gesture sya na parang nagdru-drumroll. Her truths are 1 and 3. Grabehan ito! Hindi namin yan inexpect.

"Who's next?!"

The room went to silent mode.

"Okay okay. Ako na lang," I answered. I was feeling happy that day eh, share the happiness para fun. LOL.

Medyo medyo I was shaking when standing up. Stage fright? Medyo medyo. hahaha. I stood at the middle front part of the room. Attention grabber lang diba? All eyes are now on me. I was now excited. Being our last day of training, I thought i needed to share something that is personal. Something that'll make me memorable. I started talking na...

"I'm in a relationship."

I'm a gay"

"I have a kid."

May gaps of silence ang every sentence. drama lang ganyan.

My wavemates started murmuring na. Walang makasagot. Pasabog ang choices kasi. Kabog na kabog!

"Which is a lie?" tanong ng isa.

"My lie is number three." I immediately went back to my station and sitted quietly.

I didn't expect what happened next. I was bombarded with questions and comments from the straights and from Raven (my uber nice marse). As in bomvaaaaarded. :P

"Talaga?" "Hindi ko naramdaman" "Totoo?" "Dyowa mo ba ung kasama mo lagi maglunch?" "Hindi halata!" "Sabi na nga ba eh!"

Hahaha. Hindi kasi ako loud and maporma. Isang baklang kimi. Ako na talaga ang kapatid ni Eugene Domingo. Hi my name is nimmydora. choz! Hahaha

When we transitioned to the product training friends were still talking about it. It even reached the production floor. Ang taray taray lang daw ng moment na un.

Sige na! Tanggap ko na. Ako na ang nag-out due to boredom. LOL

Coming Out - Ms. Melanie

2010-09-01T01:49:00.000+08:00

by Ms. Melanie

"Kailan mo nalamang bakla ka?" ang kadalasang itinatanong sa akin.

"Nung adoloscence stage" or "mga high school ako" ang madalas kong isagot.

Sa totoo lang, hindi ko alam ang totoo eh. Mahalaga ba?

Lumaki akong kasama ang aking ama at ina kapiling na rin ang aking ate. Sa hinagap, wala akong matandaang isyu sa aming pamilya tungkol sa pagiging malambot ko. Maaring napapansin iyon ng aking mga magulang pero nunca ko silang naringgan tungkol sa kabaklaan. Bagkus, ang mga pangaral nila tungkol sa kahalagahan ng pagtatapos ng pag-aaral ang tumatak sa aking kaisipan. Maligaya sila sa tuwing nakikita nilang masipag akong mag-aral at laging nasa Top 10 ng klase. Mga 7 or 8 years old siguro ako nang magkaroon kami ng heart to heart talk ni Papa tungkol sa edukasyon at mga pangarap niya para sa akin. Si Mama naman, tumuntong ng entablado nung Grade 2 ako para sabitan ako ng medalya. Ang Ate ko naman, isa sa pinakamasipag na tao sa mundo. Laging nakagabay sa akin.

Habang ako'y nasa elementarya, hindi ko nakitaan ang sarili ko na may pagkakaiba sa kalalakihan at may pagkakahalintulad sa kababaihan. Nakakalaro ko ang mga boys sa larong teks, bisikleta at habulan samantalang kaya ko namang lumundag ng mataas sa larong chinese garter at ten-twenty. Wala din akong matandaang tinukso ako ng bakla bakla during my tender years. Pero may isang kwento ang aking Mama na hindi ko makalimutan.

PTA meeting iyon at Grade 3 ako. Pagdating namin sa school, agad na nilapitan ako ng mga classmates kong babae, inakbayan at inayang maglaro. Siyempre, iniwan ko si Mama para makipaglaro. Then pag-uwi namin, nasabi niya na puro babae pala ang kalaro ko. Natatawa ako sa tuwing naaalala ko yun. Alam na yata niya na magiging bading ako.

Grade 6 naman ako ng magkaroon ng unang pagtangi sa kapwa ko lalaki. Lawrence ang pangalan niya at taga-section one. Ang cute niya sobra. Hindi ko pa lubos na alam ang pagiging bakla nun pero kinilig ang bubot kong puso sa kanya.
Adolescence stage I think is a crucial period of our lives. Changes happens here and we realize a lots of things. Dito kasi nadedevelop ang personality ng isang tao at aminin man natin o hindi, dito tayo natutong lumandi. Mas naging aware sa mga bagay-bagay na madalas gawin ng mag-jowa at mag-asawa. Ito rin ang stage of experimentation. Alam niyo na kung anong experiment ang tinutukoy ko. Kung nagkaroon man ng idea ang mga magulang ko na isa akong bakla, during this stage siguro eh na-strengthen ang paniniwala nilang iyon. Morning Dew ng Johnsons ang cologne, bulaklakin ang panyo at higit sa lahat, naka-style ala MTV VJ Belinda Panelo ang buho ko. Hindi ko kailanman naringgan sina Mama at Papa na mali ang mga choices ko sa buhay. Ang mahalaga, hindi ako gumagawa ng masama sa kapwa at pinag-iigihan ko ang aking pag-aaral. Tinupad ko lahat ng iyon hanggang sa makatapos ako ng kolehiyo.

Parte ng trabaho ko ang pakikisalamuha sa iba't ibang uri ng tao. Mayroong mga mausisa at mayroon namang patay malisya. Iniladlad ko man o kusang lumabas ang aking kabaklaan, hindi na mahalaga. Ang importante, sinunod ko ang payo ng aking magulang sabay taas noo na sasabihing... BAKLA AKO.

Drunken Master by Mandaya Moore

2010-09-01T01:45:00.000+08:00

by Mandaya Moore

Naglalakad ako. Sinusundan si Poging Mama. Aktuali, di naman sya ganon ka-mama. Di rin sya binatilyo. A basta, pogi sya, di matanda, di naman ganon kabata. Ang importante, nakita ko sya at sinundan ng lakad.

Nasa kahabaan kami ng Claveria— runway ko noon. Sa panahon ko, tatlo kaming supermodels sa Claveria Street. Yung isa, at di ko na maalala ang pangalan nya, mula sa kanto ng San Pedro Cathedral hanggang kanto ng Rizal Street ang area of responsibility niya. Akin naman ang mula corner Rizal Street hanggang Palma Gil Street. Panghuli si Jun Tuwad – mula kanto Palma Gil hanggang Aldevinco.

Magkaibigan naman kaming tatlo. May respeto sa isa’t isa. Di pwedeng lumampas ng AOR ng bawa’t isa, pwera na lang kung kinakailangan. At habang sinusundan ko si Poging Mama, kinailangan kong tumuntong sa AOR ni Jun Tuwad.

Malayo pa lang, nakita ko na si Jun Tuwad. Prepare na ako sa winning smile ko. Dumaan si lalaki sa harap nya, kunwari wala syang nakita. Dumaan ako, naka-smile. Smile din sya. At naka-thumbs up pa.

Umabot na ako ng Aldevinco sa pagsunod kay Poging Mama. Lumiko sya papuntang office ng Philippine National Red Cross. Di na yon AOR ni Jun Tuwad. Di ko rin kilala ang reyna sa lugar na yon. Pero tuloy pa rin ako sa pagsunod.

Lumampas na kami sa Red Cross. Biglang nawala si Poging Mama. Saan sya? Hinanap ko sya sa madilim na bahagi ng mga karinderya sa pagitan ng Red Cross at Fire Station. Wala. Hanap pa rin ako. Ang layo kaya ng nilakad ko para lang pakawalan ang pagkakataong ito.

Tumigil ako sa paghahanap. Tumayo. Nagsindi ng yosi. Matapos ang isang stick, itinuloy ang search. Madilim pa rin. Nguni’t likas yatang may night vision lenses ang aking mga mata. Nakita ko sya. Nakatayo sa gilid ng isang karinderya. Dahan-dahan akong lumapit. Ilang hakbang pa. Malapit na. Dagdag na hakbang pa. Sobrang lapit na.

“Sino ka? Ano kailangan mo? Ba’t sinusundan mo ako? Hold-upper ka?” may halong banta na sunod-sunod na tanong nya.

Hindi hold-up ang dineclare ko.

“Bakla ako,” tanging sagot ko.

Matagal na akong bakla pero sa pagkakataong ito, kailangan ko pang magladlad. Sa panahong ito, kailangan ko ipangalandakan na hindi ako straight.

Walang akong problema sa kabaklaan ko. Kailanman ay hindi ko ito hinanapan ng paliwanag. Kailanman ay hindi ako nagpaliwanag.

Sa pamilya ko, hindi ito isyu. Di napag-usapan. Basta alam na nila. Yon na yon. Walang nagtanong, wala akong sinagot. Swerte yata ako at di bobo mga kaanak ko.

Sa mga kaibigan naman, pakiramdaman na lang. Bahala silang manghula. Di ko naman sila tinanong kung straight sila, di na rin nila ako tinanong.

Huli akong nagdeclare na bading ako ay noong high school reunion namin. Andami kasing tanong: “May asawa ka na?”

“Wala,” ang sagot ko.

Meron namang ang tanong e: “Ilan na anak mo?”

“Wala,” rin ang sagot ko.

Paulit-ulit na tanong, paulit-ulit na sagot. Nakakapagod.

Kaya sa table namin noong reunion, nang may nagtanong na naman kung bakit wala pa akong asawa’t anak, sinagot ko sya ng: “Bakla ako.”

Akala ko titigilan na nila ako. Kumalat sa kabilang table, at sa kabilang table pa, hanggang sa buong batch na ang nakaalam.

At di pa sila nakuntento, may nagtanong pa ng: “Ha? Bakit?”

Mula sa kung saang table, nakarating sa akin ang tanong.

Sinagot ko ito ng isa ring tanong.

“Sya, bakit straight sya?”

Walang bumalik na sagot.

Noong gabi ng high school reunion, umuwi ako na may nakasabit sa sash sa aking katawan. Sa paligsahan na panay straight ang kalaban, bakla ang nanalo sa beer drinking contest.

Tinanghal akong: “Drunken Master 2009.”

out and about by richie dalope

2010-09-01T01:41:00.000+08:00

by richie dalope

what does coming out feels like? coming out for me is much like rotc. you wake up so early on a sunday morning, feeling a bit squirmish in the gut and whinning to yourself that this should not be required anymore. but when you get to the field and realize that you're not the only gay boy present and that all the cute boys in your batch is also there, you'd start to think that this isn't really that bad at all.

i really wouldn't know what it's like to be in the closet, but i am happy that i am not. no pun intended. i think that for people-like-us (plu's) this is our version of passage to manhood, only a bit more thematic. this is the point when we learn to accept who we really are and take pride on what it is to be gay. personally i feel more confident to interact with classmates and colleagues knowing that they are aware of my preference. i think it would have been different if they didn't know. there would always be a question lingering at the back of my head if they would be as amiable if they do.

i think that it could also be awkward and tiring for our straight friends to make an extra effort just to be politically correct and not rattle us out of our closet. so i believe that being out is the same as being honest not only to yourself but also to the people around you. and it is said that honesty is the best policy.

BOY + GIRL = BECKY by Boss Becky

2010-09-01T01:35:00.000+08:00

By Boss Becky

Isa ako sa mga masuswerteng tao sa mga konserbatibong bansa na hindi kinailangang dumaan sa malulupit na pangyayari para maipakita ko ang tunay na ako. Ang tunay na Becky.

Dahil na rin ito siguro sa major major formula na umiral sa aking pagkatao simula nung paslit pa lang ako. Tignan nyo ang aking unang pictorial nung ako ay isang taong gulang pa lang.

Muka bang straight yan o mukang pilyong bata na may masamang binabalak.? : )

Bata pa lang ako mahinhin na daw akong kumilos. Lumaki ako bukod sa aking pamilya, sa piling ng mga tita at lola. Karamihan babae ang nasa aking paligid. May kaartehan na daw akong taglay. Kinukwento sa amin ni Mader Superior na bata pa lang ako, ayoko daw lumalabas ng bahay ng walang talukbong ng bimpo dahil ayaw ko daw umitim. Hindi nila alam, iniimagine ko na ang bimpo na nakatalukbong sa aking ulo ay ang aking mahabang buhok! haha

Ikaw ba naman na sa buong pagkabata ay walang ibang hairdo bukod sa kalbo! Ayan Bokal tuloy ang aking naging nickname nuon.

Noon pa man mahilig na ako sa mga larong panglalake.

> Mag-akyat sa puno at pader
> Pabilisan ng takbo
> Patintero
> Luksong baka at luksong tinik
> Tumbang Preso
> Basket ball, baseball at football.

Nahilig din ako sa mga larong babae.

> Chinese garter
> Jack stone
> Majorette majorette
> at ang makabaling balakang na Boom tiyaya Boom tiyaya Boom Yeh yeh!

Pero ang bongang bongang mga larong Becky ang paborito ko.

> Little Miss Philippines na ako ang madalas manalo dahil sa Q&A portion
> Bahay-bahayan at lutulutuan bilang isang butihing ina at ang crush kong kalarong lalake ang tatay..haha
> Paglalaro ng laruang Rambo at Mr. T bilang mga kontrabida at She-Ra kasama ang kanyang mahiwagang kabayo bilang bida.

Ang pinakapaborito ko sa lahat, ang full costumed red undies, white sash, used bra with stars, golden bracelets and the golden winged crown, DARNA! Ako si Darna habang ang tito ko ang gumaganap na Manananggal (with matching black wings and curly long wig) o ang Halimaw sa banga na may mahahabang kuko. Diba supportive ang tito ko!? Minsan nga iniisip ko pangarap talaga ni Tito na gumanap bilang Darna kaso ang pangit kung ako ang kalaban bilang tyanak. Hindi match. Kaya ako na lang ang pinagamit nya ng bato. Patago ang paglalaro namin nun kase napapagalitan kami. haha.

Patuloy ang halo-halong bagay sa aking paglaki. Si Green Two sa umaga, Si Yellow Four sa gabi. May crush na babae, mas madaming crush na lalaki.

Pagdating ko sa ikalimang baitang sa elementarya, nabuo ang samahan ng mga becky bilang Sailor Warriors. Diba Sailor Moon ang drama. Ako si Sailor Jupiter noon. Ang pinakamaton sa grupo. Lahat ng myembro ng Sailor Warriors ay umaarte na mayroon silang crush noon. Pinipilit nilang akong magkacrush kasi unfair daw wala silang tutuksuhin sa akin. Kaya napilitan akong pumili at syempre ang pinili ko ay ang lalaking naging pinakamalapit sa akin nuong panahon na iyon. Besfriend ko nun na si Jeffrey. Siya ang naging first love ko, puppy love, first kiss (sa noo lang naman) at first bf (kahit hindi naman namin alam pano yun.). Sya ang unang lalaki nagsabi sakin ng I love You at sinabihan ko ng I love You Too.

Simula nun in-embrace ko na ang pagiging becky.

Hindi ko naman akalain na nagmumuni-muni prin ang pamilya ko na mahinhin lang ata talaga ako at tunay na lalake prin ako. Eh isang hakbang tatlompung kembot ako maglakad.

Noong summer na magthi-third year ako sa highschool. Napatagal ang pagbabakasyon ko sa Bicol. Walang contact dahil hindi pa uso ang cellphone nun kaya naghalungkat ang Tita Ruby ko (pinaka-close kong tita) sa aking gamit sa aparador. Duon nya nahalungkat ang puro kabaklaan at kaartihang slam book na sobrang uso nun. Dun nya nakumpirma ang aking pagka becky.

Pagluwas ko ng Maynila, kinausap nya ako.

Tita Ruby: Naghalungkat ako sa gamit mo dahil naghahanap ako panu kayo macontact sa Bicol, nakita ko yung mga Slam Book mo. Bakla ka ba?

Tango lang ang naisagot ng BB .

Tita Ruby: Akala namin mahinhin ka lang talaga. Ayos lang yun basta wag kang mag-aakyat ng kahihiyan sa ating pamilya ah.

Ngiti at tango lang ulit ang aking naisagot.

Magmula nun natanggap na agad ng aking pamilya kung ano talaga ako. Hindi na din kinailangang maungkat ang usapan tungkol dun. Kundi malalagot sila kay Ruby, ang pinangmanahan kong Bidang Kontrabida. Paborito kaya ako nun bukod pa sa Lola ko. Tinupad ko din naman ang pangakong hindi mag-aakyat ng kahihiyan sa pamilya. At proud pa nga sila sa akin ngayon. Kaso hindi ko pala naitanong kung pede bang lalake ang iakyat? haha

Masaya ako at masasabi kong maswerte sa maagang pagtanggap at bukas isip na pagsuporta sakin ng aking pamilya. May mga kaibigan akong kasing swerte ko din. May mga kakilala naman din akong may ibang sitwasyon at nasa mas mahirap na posisyon at kailangan dumaan sa butas ng karayom para maipakita ang totoong sila.

Sa akin lamang, sa kahit anong sitwasyon, alam nating masasaktan at masasaktan ang ating pamilya sa oras na malaman nila na tayo ay taga sunod ni San Rio (Santo ng mga Becky at Hello Kitty). Kung hindi ka man kasing palad ko at kinakailangan mo pa rin itong itago. Go susuportahan kita. Wag ka lang sana manggamit ng iyong kapwa lalo na at babae para mapagtakpan ang iyong sarili. Hindi mo alam kung gaano kasakit at ano ang epekto nito sa taong ginagamit mo at sa mga kaibigan nya. Yun lamang po. Wag na nating dagdagan ang taong ating masasaktan. (oo may pinaparinggan ako. haha)

My HIS-Story by Von Draye

2010-09-01T01:28:00.000+08:00

by Von Draye

I only got the courage to come out during my college days after I transferred from UP Los Baños to Lyceum Institute of Technology, then, now known as Lyceum of the Philippines-Laguna. After spending my time and experiencing academic freedom (from UPLB), it taught me almost everything, and I mean ALMOST EVERYTHING.

That’s when (and where) I learned to come out. It started when my lesbian classmate during college in LPL when she came out during our 3rd year. Since we’re only 12; the pioneer batch of our course, we were closer than the other courses and other BIATCH, I mean batch. Anyway, she said this will “prevent” further gossips, “Eh di wala na silang pagchichismisan, dahil alam na nila.” (Then they can’t create rumors or gossips anymore since they already know.”) That made all the sense in the world, thus, making me come out not just to them, to all the teachers, admin staff, but to other “other” students as well (I was an irregular student, so I get to sit in classes with other courses as well (these classes were block sections; they’re your classmates until the end; err.. I mean until you graduate)). That’s where I felt the respect I want as a gay student, not afraid of being bullied and getting those hi’s and hello’s without the fear of gossips behind my back. (As if I care?!)

One of those memorable coming out moments was with my GAWAD family. It was rather harder to come out to them since these people are coming from all over the corners of Laguna; from Paete, Pakil to Rizal, Fami, Nagcarlan, Liliw, Calauan, Los Banos, to San Pedro and Binan. I can still remember of giving them hints(eseses) by bringing pictures of 2005 Cosmo Batchelor Bash, and such gay things, I was already giving lots of hints actually, but since I was “that” manly, and they’re not that judgmental; they just shrugged it off. Come 2006 when I was fully pledged part of their org; I was part of their theatre and already got closer to them. That’s when I showed them my ex-gf’s picture and my (then) boyfriend’s picture. They were really giggling about it that they can’t believe I was one. Little did they know, I dated(and did) one of the old members. It was then, they loved me more. Every year, a new batch comes in and I have to think of new ways of coming out. Haha!

When I started working here in Makati, I‘ve never thought being gay is normal, like normal NORMAL. When I was in training, we were asked to introduce ourselves and showcase your talent crap and all. We were 3 straight guys, 3 straight gays and all straight girls. That’s the time where I felt respect, acceptance and happiness with what I am, and who I was. I never felt more comfortable knowing that these people know I’m gay and loves me for it, and the funny part, since I was the probinsyano boy in the metro, who looks like I just escaped fashion prison, they REALLY didn’t believe I was gay until the 2nd week of our training. GOSH!

…and the Coming out party

“Okay, I’ll treat you guys as long as you’ll promise that you’ll tell them about that.” This was my cousin’s proposal when she “confronted” me(via YM) that when she gets back here in the Philippines (she’s in the US), I’ll tell my brother, sister, and cousins(mother side); that I’m gay. DEAL! Her family was one of my closest; they’ve supported my endeavors and dreams and I’ve grown with them spiritually too, that’s why I love them so much. At a resto in Greenbelt, she treated us all, and when we finished our meals, after paying the bill, she initiated the conversation; “What did you tell mom (my aunt) “if its confirmed”?” I was getting red, and just told them; “…that I’m gay.” My brother’s girlfriend was semi-surprised because she(everyone already have an idea, duh?!) heard it straight from ME. It was then the topic that night and which included setting rules; no gowns, or cross dressing (which I’m really not comfortable doing), all and that. I told them I’m not yet ready to tell mom and dad, and too bad sister was not there, since she was my closest sibling. I was more at peace, since brother(whom I wasn’t close to begin with and I had a fight with him since I was 18) told me that he already knew a couple of years, and it was okay with it. It was another thorn removed from my heart knowing that my family, real family knows who I am.

WHY?!

With gay men having some identity crisis; I encourage them to come out. I get to have those raised eyebrows from them, thinking who am I to tell them what to do, and its okay, I understand them; especially since I’m not “them.” However, I enlighten them with what’s with coming out.

Other than my life story, this was true with my ex-bf and husband. I’m not sure if it was me who pushed them or encouraged them to come out, but it was a revelation for both of them and their parents as well. My ex, Euan, who came out to his parents now has a better relationship with them, while husband came out to his mom a couple of years back, and we can now sleep on his room, with open doors, and just last weekend, Tita woke us up to get ready for breakfast; while husband is hugging me.

One of my friend who didn’t came out, is now having a hard time coping with gossips at work. He didn’t came out the first time, and since then, until now, he’s still having a hard time coping with these; at work. “Sana sinabi ko na dati pa, para di nako nahihirapan ngayon.” (I hope I could’ve told them earlier so I’m not having a hard time dealing with them now. )

The not-so-perfect world

When I was in the middle of my identity crisis, I still have, and up to now, still regretted not telling my straight high school best friend. We were both in college, but still maintained our communication through phone every now and then. There was one time “that” topic was opened up, I don’t know why I was afraid to tell him so I denied it. During my junior and senior year, majority of our highschool batch already knew about me, because my ex girlfriend turned bestfriend helped me out to come out to our closest friends, and since that’s one big news, it spread throughout the school. Just a couple of months ago, I saw him on facebook, and since it was a couple account with me and husband, of course, by that point in time he already have an idea. I tried asking him for us to talk, but he don’t want to anymore; “para ‘san?”(what for?) He asked. It still bothers me, but I need to keep my composure. So guys don’t let that one chance pass, tell them; if they accepted you, they’re a true friend and if not, baka bekcy din sila! (They might be gay as well!) Joke! And so I thought, my ex girlfriend and her family, and her husband, and my friends LOVE me, that’s what keeps that small dark cube of sadness on the corner of my heart.

Wrapititup!

God gave you life, God gave you choices, I chose to be like this because I’m happy and I’m making others happy. It depends on your family background, your group of friends , beliefs, etc. Someone I know was actually sent off when he came out. There are a couple of gay guys whose situation calls for to be closet, and all I can say is pray. It’s hard to be in the closet; almost everyone went through that, and from what I know, and experienced, your FAITH and prayer can help.

For those whose situations are much lighter, come on, COME OUT! You’re missing a lot of things. Society are now getting more and more open about same sex, and religion is not an issue anymore, that’s why I love about MCCph. they introduced me to gay issues in the bible, and just like the revalations in the book of judas, I love the revalation of st sergius and bachus, and st felicity and perpetua. So from here, I already have something to bag me up that not everything in the bible is anti-gay. We already have our saints, they’re here for us.

It will still come down to your choice. Whether to come out or not, find reasons not to and find reasons to, finding yourself or finding your identity, it will end up to whether you want to come out or not. All I can say is life is gay, and so am I.

Bus Ride by Thomasian Psychologist

2010-09-01T01:23:00.000+08:00

By Thomasian Psychologist

NOTE: I’m going Shakespearean with this, as The PG Blog puts it. This is a true-to-life account of my coming out October last year. Things have changed greatly, and I’m happy that they’re for the better.

"Are you sleepy?" I asked mom as the bus made its way through the bridge that connects the place we’ve been to our destination.

"Yes," mom replied absent-mindedly.

"Want to feel awake?"

"Sure."

"About what your boss said earlier," I started. The thumping on my chest felt so much stronger, like a little boy pounding on the doors of the closet from which he was hidden. The little boy—I—knew it was time to finally come out. I had promised myself that the moment I get the chance, I would grab it. Earlier was that moment. Mom's boss joked about how mom's youngest would tail her around, and what possibilities such attachment could imply. In a split second that seemed to stretch into an eternity of consuming trepidation, I finally disclosed, "it's true."

Mother's expression turned sharp, intently listening and prepared to absorb everything that was awaiting digestion. "That you're..."

"Yes, I'm gay. I have always been."

All her facial muscles, so sharp and alert prior to my revelation, collapsed into what seemed like an overwhelming sadness. That was my cue to answer the why's, when's, and how's even before she could ask.

"I have always known that I’m gay," I explained in a manner young mothers would tell short stories to their little kids before bedtime, "But it was only when I entered college that I accepted myself for what I am. It was not easy for me at first, but yes. I'm gay."

“How did you know you're gay?"

"Attraction to guys. I get attracted to guys."

"I mean, how?" she implored. She seemed not to understand. And it seemed that I would be answering many, many questions, and she would be asking instead of me preempting them.

"That simple. I find guys attractive." I see no other way to put it.

"Have you had a boyfriend?"

“Yes.”

I chuckled. It’s funny how love would always come into the conversations of parents with their children. She looked at me straight in the eye, and I looked back. I was comforted by the absence of judgment, of anger, of disgust. This would normally make me stop, reluctant to push my luck further, but I knew I had to go on, to deliver what I wanted her to know without her misunderstanding any part of it. This does not assure, as I understand it, that those three would never follow after, so I have to make effort in getting everything across well and clear.

"Who is he?"

"A student I met from my college."

"I thought it was only during college that you..." Her voice trailed off. There was momentary silence between the two of us. The honking and the belching seemed to have grown louder, and it felt threatening, as if it were to consume everything that we have already established. I realized, then, that to make the most out of what we were having, I have to keep the conversation flowing. I picked up from where she left off.

"It was when I entered college that I accepted myself being gay," I reminded her, "but that doesn't mean I was not gay even before that."

"But now, are you single or are you double?" Her lips curled into a forced smile. She must have intended that as a joke; an attempt to lift the rather unexplainable ambience that have enveloped us. She, however, was not able to make it like one.

"Single," I promptly replied, with a smile. I was uncertain whether or not she was already open to the idea that her children are starting to get involved into romantic relationships, with the opposite sex or otherwise. She has always been firm on imposing the studies-first-love-later family upbringing onto her children, and being single at that moment favored me greatly.

"Why did you break up?" she followed up.

"We were both new to accepting ourselves as gay people. We were still in the dark. I myself did not have gay friends that time. We didn't know what to do, where we were going."

I also knew I had to let her know—finally—with whom I go out with from time to time whenever I leave home.

"Regarding friends, you remember the fashion designer that I got to judge the pageant?" I asked, referring to the intra-college competition I helped organize a few weeks back.

"I already had my suspicions regarding that. How about the illustrator?" she inquired, citing a friend I told her about who had a book signing during this year’s Manila Book Fair.

"Yes. He's gay as well."

Her expression was hard to discern. One thing that deeply matters is my gay friends. This prompted me to explain how we met (though in much simpler terms), to let her know that they cause and bring me no harm which, I know, she fears most.

"There is this blog that writes everything about being gay," I explained. "We are all readers of that blog, and that's how we met."

"I believe you have spent at least one overnight with them," she said. It was not a question; it was more of stating rather than asking. It was difficult to decode the emotion behind her tone of speech, but I took confidence in giving her just the truth, or even just some of it.

Yes," I said. "Once, in Antipolo." It may not be entirely true, since I have already spent two overnight get togethers with my gay friends at the place. Yet, I believe telling her otherwise wouldn’t do harm. I didn’t want to overwhelm her further.

"But you said you have a block mate from Antipolo?"

"I do. I sleepover at his place as well, as you may know."

"Is he gay?"

This gave me a little laugh. Adrian is too macho to be gay, and suspecting him to be one is simply absurd. "No, mother. He's not," I chuckled.

"Do your other friends know?"

"Of course, though not all at the same time,” I replied. This reminds me of my strategy on how to avoid the pain of “expressing my uniqueness” from the majority of the people I am surrounded with. I thought that, perhaps, the struggle of coming out becomes less painful when done gradually. I believed it would be best to come out to those that would least likely to return my honesty with rejection and disgust. In my own theory, their acceptance would fuel my acceptance of myself which, in turn, would serve as the force that would actualize my ultimate goal in choosing to do all of these—living a life of no pretensions. And that’s what I did.

I explained this to mom. “I came out first with whom I am closest,” I continued, “then there came the guidance counselors, other block mates, then—"

"Don't they feel awkward that they are sleeping with a gay man?"

Now, I laughed for real. "We always joke about it, but I don't bite, mother. We're all cool with it."

A little silence, then, "As long as you don't go out that much with your gay friends, I don't see any problem with it," she blurted out.

I do, I said to myself. But I chose not to push her to the limit. We could save that for later, since even before I disclosed to her my orientation, she is already having problems letting me go.

Then came the part I was least anticipant to, yet very much obliged to explain: the kind of gay person that I am.

"Will I be seeing a Bebe Gandanghari later, in the future?" Her eyes twinkled with tears upon asking.

"No, so don't cry." I laughed. "I always explain this to people, and I know it is quite hard to understand, the way our culture shapes our ideas and the society depicts gay people in media. I am gay not because I want to become a woman. I am gay because I get attracted to guys. I don't differ much from other men. It's just that my preferences are different."

"Preference?"

"Gender preference. Don't be so sad." I took mother’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's just that I don't want to see you getting beaten up by a guy or something."

"That's only something you see on TV."

"But it does happen in real life."

"It does,” I affirmed, but with an air of confidence that it won’t happen to me. “But mother, you will be surprised to see that many gay guys do not actually look less of a man. Don't be so sad."

We reached our destination and alighted the bus. We agreed earlier that we would be having her wrist watch fixed before taking our last ride home. The talk continued while the watchmaker made time tick again.

"Now, that did wake me up," she said, for the first time through the course of our conversation, in a genuinely lighter tone. I returned with a simple smile.

"When are you telling your father?"

"I do not know yet." Honestly, all I cared for is my mother knowing. If I were to tell my father, that would only be out of necessity and nothing else.

"Ah basta, I won't be the one to let him know."

"I don't want you to."

"Does your sister know?"

"Yes. And so does our cousins,” I said with pride, referring to mom’s nieces that live with us. “Don't tell me you never suspected me, mother," I said with a new smile.

"I did." She smiled back.

"And so did they. I just affirmed it, like what I am doing now."

The watchmaker was quick in fixing mother's watch. After paying for his services, we headed home. This time it was a silent jeepney ride, and the stillness between us mirrors the subsiding pounding on my chest. It came back to its normal beat; relaxed, serene—just how it's supposed to be.

We decided to walk instead of taking a pedicab at the entrance of the village. Mother talked a few about her boss, her work and her colleagues. When the house was already in sight, she said, "Take care of yourself. Don't do anything that will bring shame to the family. Take care of yourself," she repeated.

"Of course," I assured her. "Gay or not gay, I should. And I do."

A cousin opened the gate wide when we arrived. As I entered the house, I knew that starting today, a different life now awaits me inside. I am quite uncertain of what it could be, but I am sure that it would now be less pretentious—a bit more real.

Being Out and About by Buquir

2010-09-01T01:15:00.000+08:00

By Buquir

Once upon a time, nanligaw ako ng mga babae.

Once upon a time, nagkunyari akong interesado ako sa sports.

Once upon a time, takot akong mag-suot ng pink.

Once upon a time, inisip ko na balang araw, ikakasal ako at magkakaroon ng pamilya.

Once upon a time, kasama sa pang-araw-araw na bokabularyo ko ang "pare" at "tsong".

Once upon a time, I was straight.

Well... pretended to be, anyway.

Then, one day, coming home from school, I found my mother waiting for me in our garage.

Seryoso ang mukha niya.

Kinabahan agad ako.

I checked my conscience to see if may nagawa ba akong kasalanan lately. Wala naman.

Pero kinabahan pa rin ako.

Lumapit ako sa kaniya at humalik sa kaniyang pisngi.

"How was school?" tanong niya, kalmado.

"Ok naman," I answered.

She nodded, and then said, "Halika sa loob."

I gulped and followed her to our dining room.

There laid out on the dining table were several copies of gay erotic story books I kept hidden in our library.

Nanlamig ang buong katawan ko.

Nakita ko sa isang sulok ng dining room si Inday, ang minamahal kong yaya, nakasilip sa may pinto, kabadong-kabado ang mukha para sa akin.

"Tell me what these are," my mother asked.

Isang libo't isang isipin ang pumasok sa utak ko.

What do I tell her?

Aamin na ba ako?

Do I deny na akin yun? Maybe I should tell her na the books belonged to my bestfriend and classmate, Donne, whom she knew was gay?

What do I tell her?

Maybe I should lie? Feign innocence?

What do I tell her?

And then the last thought was:

Hindi ba mas madaling sabihin ko na lang ang totoo?

So I told her: "Those are mine."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Medyo nanginginig siya.

When she opened them again, naluluha na siya.

"So bading ka?" ang tanong niya.

Sumagot ako, medyo pumipiyok, "Opo."

Sumagot agad siya, "Kaya mo pang gamutin yan."

Muntik na akong matawa, although there was nothing funny about the moment, "Hindi ito sipon, Ma."

Nag-kasagutan kami for about an hour more, I think. Hindi na malinaw sa akin ang mga nangyari kasi, sa totoo lang, gusto ko nang kalimutan ang naging reaksiyon ni Mama sa nalaman niya tungkol sa akin.

Hindi ko siya masisi. Pero I don't think pwede rin niya akong sisihin.

That happened about eight years ago.

A few months later, I moved out. It was just too stressful. They couldn't cope, I couldn't cope.

And I haven't been home ever since.

PInagsisihan ko ba na umamin ako?

Aaminin ko, sometimes, oo. Mahirap pala ang mag-isa, lalo na pag-holidays. Or pag may sakit ako.

Madalas naman masaya ako sa pagiging bakla. Masaya talaga ang mga bakla. Pero tanungin mo ang kahit na sinong bakla and I am sure, a lot of them would have preferred to be straight.

Masaya maging bakla, oo, pero mahirap din ito. Alam niyo yan.

If it weren't for my friends, I don't think I would have survived. God bless them all.

Kapag may nakikita ako sa opisina na baklang nagkukunyaring straight, pinipilit kong intindihin.

Mahirap mag-out eh. Alam niyo yan.

Hindi sakit ang pagiging bakla, pero there are times, lalo na pag-heartbroken ako, na winiwish ko na tama si Mama.

Sana nga ang pagiging bakla, pwedeng "gamutin" na tulad lang ng sipon.

Forgive me, fellow gays, for thinking that, pero ganun talaga eh.

Masaya talaga maging bakla, the freedom to express one's self so colorfully, the brilliant homosexuals you meet along the rainbow-colored road, the hot men you have casual flings with; obviously, may perks and priviliges talaga ang pagiging bakla.

Major major proud akong maging bakla. And I love the fact na kaya ko siyang ipagsigawan.

Pero sometimes, like in my case, coming out comes with a high price.

Iniisip ko madalas, saan kayo ako mag-papasko ngayong taon? Mag-babagong taon? Ano kayang ginagawa ng pamilya ko ngayon? Okay kaya sila?

Naiisip kaya nila ako?

Gaya nga ng sabi ko, masaya maging bakla, oo, pero mahirap din ito.

Alam niyo yan.

Peeping out of the closet: in a sociological perspective by justinfinite

2010-09-01T01:11:00.000+08:00

by justinfinite

In reference to my previous post, here I am talking about why I came out(well, sort of) to the world! By coming out I mean, letting other people know that I tend to like species w/ the same sexual characteristics as I am. So here's the story...

Some years ago, when I was in grade 10, I pretty much know that I dont really care about attraction to other people. I have crushes and stuff but it all ends there. It never came to me to really get into a relationship with somebody else. Well, by the age of 15 I know that I am attracted to guys. I knew it since I was younger but I did not let my parents know until I was 15. Not that they couldn't read the way I feel but of course, they would not want to assume that one of their 3 sons happen to be gay, to make it more exciting, the eldest. I wrote them a letter saying everything, as in EVERYTHING that I feel and needed to tell them. I told them I was a bisexual and that I am very open to sex with pretty much, everybody. Yes, I am one of those Bi now, gay later scheme. Fast forward up to this date. My parents still thinks that I am attracted to the same sex but they try and convince THEMSELVES that what I am going through is just a phase. Technically, they are the only ones in my family who knows who I really am and that's all that matters. So I can basically say that I am out, comfortable with my own color but what I hate is being limited. By that I mean, I have to be careful to who I sleep with because I dont really wanted to disappoint my parents. :(

So why do I choose to convince my parents that there is still a possibility of me going back to the conformity of a male-female gender society? It's not as simple as because I can, but I'd love to elaborate it for you using 3 sociological paradigms.

Starting with,

THE STRUCTURAL-FUNCTIONALISM THEORY.

I haven't totally came out of the closet by bringing home guys and introducing them to my parents because it works for me! I dont need to explain anything to my family. I am also keeping my brothers away from the stigma that they could experience in school or from the outside world. I am also preventing my parents from any heart-ache for I know that it would disappoint them if they found out that their eldest is gay. Them knowing that I am bisexual and there is some percent chance that I will soon follow what they wanted me to be gives me less burden and guilt. Keeping my self limited also works for it gives me the barrier from acting effeminate, for as we all know, it's just practical for a gay person to act like a straight guy to find somebody that could reciprocate what they can give. I imagine if my parents would accept who I am, GOD forbid I will be out of control. In a patriarchial society, whether in getting a job or walking down the street,

people would be judgemental, and being an out of control gay guy would just attract controversy and it wouldn't really let you get into the circle. In other words, you cannot put "being gay" in your resume. So "at least" trying to conform with the norms will actually later on, get me into a successful position where I wanted to be. Im not saying that successful "out of control" gay guys doesnt exist, well, not in my world at least.

SOCIAL-CONFLICT THEORY

Pretty much straight to the point. I live in a home where the father is the primary guardian who practices conservative values. In the 20th century, inequality is such a common thing. But this remains taboo as we all breathe the air of a patriarchial society. It is changing a little bit but it seems that raising children based on tradition will always linger around our walls. I did not fully come out of the closet because I feel like I will be rejected away from my family. I did not want that to happen that's why I chose to remain peeping inside the closet. Sad it may seem but you know what, people should learn to accept it because as long as we patronize capitalism, this thought will stay. There will be people deprived of being able to be who they are and what they wanted to be. I guess this patriarchial thing is only a factor because as for me, it always comes up to personal choice.

SYMBOLIC INTERACTIONISM

Personal choice. Although there are factors that affects my life, it all comes down to personal choice. PLEASE DONT GIVE ME THE BIOLOGICAL BULLSHIT because we basically dont have a hormone that tells us who we sleep with. Everything is sociological and personal. Anyways, as for me, I actually think that ever since I was a child, i percieve the world as equal and just. I mean, whenever I color human species, I color black people really dark brown and I dont color them black, and white people, I color them white and flesh and not just live it uncolored reflecting my white paper's hue. I was always the renegade in school. Although filled with non-sense as a highschool student, I was filled with drama and rebellion. They cant contain me, I have to make a difference and be different. Personal choice. Staying inside the closet while enjoying some priveleges is totally my fault, not anybody else' but it's totally mine. I chose this therefore, I have to deal with it.

IN CONCLUSION,

19 years of existence, my family is still intact, strong and possibly unbreakable, I got a tattoo just recently and my mom and dad did say some things about it but they did not really bother to tell me what I needed to do. Im going to be like this forever for as I've said, it definitely works for me. I'm single as of this moment, im not talking to anybody nor seeing someone but I feel contented because although not a lot of people knows that Im a gay person and im single, my family still got my back no matter what I do. And I love it. :)

Oh btw, here's my tattoo

:)

Much Love.

Untitled Post by Bobby Barbecho

2010-09-01T01:04:00.000+08:00

by Bobby Barbecho

I was nineteen years old when I came out to my mother.

We were sitting on metal chairs on our sunny garden. The sun was bright, the wind was a little chilly, and I was feeling not-so-nervous. I remember us drinking ice-cold lemonade in tall glasses. I can still hear the clinking of the ice in the glass, the taste of the square tuna sandwiches.

I love my mother and she adored me. I was spoiled rotten, still am, I guess.

"You were nine when I realized you were gay," was her response.

Apparently, she noticed how fixated I was with our family driver.

"I've accepted it already a long time ago," she casually said, lighting up a cigarette.

She then fixed me this look which always made me feel naked.

"I think the problem you have to deal with is whether you've accepted it already," she winked at me.

I smiled a little ruefully.

She knows me well, what can I say.

I'm a proud person. I really am.

For the past two years, I've had several flings and dozens of one-night-stands.

But nobody else in my family knows I'm gay.

Amongst my closest friends, only Sebastian and Xander know.

In school, in my previous jobs, I never came out. And I was never suspected, as far as I know (I am extremely straight-looking).

I definitely know, without a single shred of doubt, that I will never come out.

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

I don't proclaim to the world how straight I am by courting girls or pretending to be disgusted with how gay my acquaintances are.

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

I applaud other people's choice to come out and be proud.

I'm sure it's very liberating for them.

I am gay, and I am not ashamed of it. However, I don't think we all need to wave the proverbial rainbow flag. I don't tell people I am straight, nor do they ask if I am.

What would I say if ever they ask me if I am? I'll ask them to choose whatever floats their boat and just be content with that.

I have sex with men often and I have lots of fun with them. Is that enough reason for me to say to everyone that I am gay?

Tell me. Why?

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

P.S.
I don't know if people will react to this negatively, as I am not sure if anyone reads this stuff of mine (Hello, one Follower!). But if they do, I am sorry for having offended you, if I did. However, kindly ask yourself first why you were offended. It's not like I'm telling you to be straight or pretend you are. I'm just telling you what I think and feel.

Feel free to live a happy life, everyone. :-)

Fuel to the fire: On Coming Out by Dean

2010-09-01T00:59:00.000+08:00

by Dean

"I think I'm gay." I said, in the homeward car filled with my family of 4, away from the fancy restaurant we celebrated my 18th birthday. It was dark outside as well as inside the car where we were all too quiet ourselves.

My mom asked again, "What?"

"I think I'm gay." with a finality that was borne from a spirit of confession then declaration.

My sister was quiet beside me. She had curled up to sleep but now was wide awake, listening to every word. I was glad she was.

"Are you sure?" my mom rejoined, a bit of a waver in her voice.

I didn't answer immediately. I stared at the back of my dad's head and wondered if I can stare hard enough to see what he was thinking. Or at the least, make him say something.

"I think so."

Quiet again, and the lights of lampposts whirred inside the car as we headed home. I imagined my mom sighed before she replied.

"You can't be sure now, you're just a kid. It's not an easy life, you know. It's going to complicate yours for sure. Maybe it's just a phase."

"It's just a phase." she repeated, a little softer, as if in suggestion.

"Maybe it is." I didn't want to say anything more, hoping to leave a gap of words in the air where my dad could fill it with his reply, or even his reproach, anything.

"Dad, are you ok?" my sister's hand was on my dad's shoulder. He said he was ok, and not much else.

Life-long Struggle to Come Out by takeshi

2010-09-01T00:55:00.000+08:00

By takeshi

In the blueprint of my LIFE, there’s a certain point in time where I’d just have to be ready to come out and be proud of who I really am.

I have been living a LIFE that is not entirely me. I am living a LIFE that is scared of what others might think and say about me. I’m living a LIFE that is hugely lurking in the shadows of pretense. It’s a LIFE in the arms of fear.

Every single day, every single time. Questions dangled in my mind of whether or not it’s a phase, of whether or not it’s normal, whether or not it’s okay to be like this. I asked myself if this is what I wanted in LIFE. And every single moment, the questions are left unanswered.

LIFE may have been too different had I been born gay. I was born straight. I turned gay when I turned 16. The years in between had been the period of struggle of whether or not to accept that I am different.

After college, I got the courage to come out to a friend, only because he came out to me first. If he hadn’t told me that he’s gay, I wouldn’t have the guts to tell him that I am too. If we haven’t crossed paths, I’d still be confined in my own closet and the naphthalene balls would have been my only close friends.

I was reluctant. I was very much afraid of how people would react if I’d tell them that I am gay. Such fear of rejection or distaste or despise is more like a leash that could strike and cut me deeply. With such fear in mind, I carefully chose whom to tell it to.

I would have loved to be transparent through and through. But fear has gotten to me most of the times. I hid behind my beard, my manly gestures, and the masculine voice I set. I hid behind a mask. I would have been careful not to let my pinky stick out and apart from the rest of my fingers. I would have reminded myself to stop the pupils of my eyes from dilating whenever a cute guy passes me by, or gasp whenever I see a beefcake or a muscle bear roam in the mall.

I had been trying to control myself from giving out rainbow signals. I always remember not to sway my hips as I walk. I’d played football and was forced to play hoop when my dad gave me a basketball as birthday present. I tried not to cry. My dad didn’t like the thought of boys crying. He said crying is for sissies.

Early in LIFE, I became aware of people’s concept about the homosexual. My mind was filled with thoughts that gays are men in women’s clothes, wear make-up and work in beauty salons. I somehow accepted the fact that gays are always the butt of jokes, the easy target for ugly tactics and gender slurs. I know it’s stereotypical. And out of fear, I began to question myself.

My dad once said that if he found out that one of his sons is gay, he would tie him up and hang him upside down from a tree. Dad was very traditional. If you’re boy, act like a man. We both shared the same name. He thought that I would grow up exactly like him. He thought that I would continue on with the family name. I thought if I were a boy, I should like a man.

I struggled hard. Disconcerted perhaps. It was a conscious effort to act straight and ‘normal’. I did not fit in. I felt awkward when I was in a group of boys. I felt giddy when forced to talk about my crush because I was not convinced at all that I got a crush on a girl. I would have wanted to be a member of the dance club, but I held back because it would have given the clues away.

I struggled less in high school, probably because I was focused more on the phases of cell growth and apopthosis than on my physical and mental development. It could have been the perferct time to decide on gender preference but I entered into the adolescent stage and the break-outs and skin imperfections distracted me more than my man-crushes.

The struggle continued on in college, but it ended when I finally found myself in the arms of my roommate.

I hid it from anyone until I decided to come out to him. It was an overwhelming experience. It was a conscious decision. I chose to give in, to let go, to give up on the struggle. Victorious or vanquished I didn’t know. But I was certain that it put a smile on my face. In the arms of my roommate, I felt relieved. It was to be my first time to open myself to someone. I released myself from struggle. I sprung myself to him and he secured me in his embrace.

He was the first person I came out to. My first time. My first kiss. My first embrace. It was the perfect moment to share a fraction of my LIFE. He was there when I tried to convince myself that it’s okay. He took me out of my fear. He picked me up from my worries and veered me away from the puddles of my doubt. He cleared my troubled mind and in his arms, I was at peace.

We drifted away a few months after.

I found myself alone once more. The struggle resurfaced. I wore the mask again. The smell of naphthalene was pushing me back to my closet. The surriptitious aspect of my LIFE was tucked inside the box of darkness. I continued on with my LIFE of pretense. Fear had taken me back. I thought I would remain a closet case forever.

I was shocked when my friend came out to me 7 years later. I admired his courage. He stirred me to come out. I told him everything. I told him about my roommate. I told him about my struggle. He told me that it’s going to be alright.

I was prodded to take off the mask and give up the struggle. I became less wary of what may be hurled against me. I no longer felt the need to be cautious of the way I walk, the way I laugh, the way I talk. I had my hair dyed several times and I hit the gym and toned up.

The years I spent working in an absolute macho environment had somehow automatically restricted me to come out in the open. No one in the office knew anything about my other life. But with the position I held, I thought it was not necessary to come out because I wanted to keep their respect and their trust in my leadership. I knew at that time that the struggle had resurfaced. And I had fallen back into the path of pretense.

In the blueprint of my LIFE, there’s a certain time that my roommate and I would cross paths once more. We rekindled the old flame, we picked up from where we left. We were together again, in our own little orphic world. But since we got reunited, plus the maturity and the level of understanding of what this wonderful relationship was all about, I began to open up to the people I know.

I came out to my sister first. She was in Manila that time. I told her while we were strolling the length of that mall in Mandaluyong. I told her that I’ll be meeting someone later, that I will be meeting up with my boyfriend. The shock factor for her was hearing the word ‘boyfriend’ which she uttered back to me. I nodded and told her that I have a boyfriend and that I would like her to meet him.

I expected for a long silent moment to follow. I let her absorb the shock; allowed her some time to digest and understand what she had just heard. We were in a very uncomfortable situation. At that time, I didn’t ask myself if it was the right time to come out to her or if it’s the proper place and moment to tell her. I didn’t plan it. It was spontaneous.

I broke the awkward silence and stopped her in her steps. I said to her that whatever I am and whatever I chose to be, whatever happens, I would always be her brother. She hugged me and broke down in tears. The weight of my chest was unloaded and my heart felt the warmth of the revelation.

I said to myself that there must be at least someone in the family who should know me inside-out. Eventually, I would be telling my parents about me. But I could not gather the courage yet to tell them now. I fear their anger. I fear their pain. I dread the moment where I would have no other choice but to leave the house and live my life without them. I came out to my brother just last year, when I brought him along for my business trip to Iloilo. And two years ago, I opened up to my two other siblings by letting them read an article in my blog.

This blog had become my avenue and my means to let people know and understand me. I used this personal blog to help me come out to my officemates, my close friends and those that I could trust. And since that time when I was reunited with my roommate, I have already told a lot of people.

For me, coming out is still a life-long struggle. A LIFE process. A wait-and-see event. It is also a journey, like any other. It begins with a single step, a single step away and out of the closet, a departure from fear towards the terminus of acceptance and happiness.

Coming Out by Mel Beckham

2010-09-01T00:39:00.001+08:00

by Mel Beckham

Coming Out.

Isa ito marahil sa pinakamahirap na stage sa mga tulad nating gays. Mas mahirap pa ang mag come-out lalo na kung isa ka sa mga tulad ko na medyo healthy at masikip ang pinto na iyong lalabasan. Charing!

Seriously, aminin natin na despite the modernity of times hindi pa rin totally tanggap ang pagiging gay lalo na dito sa ating bansa na very religious and conservative pa rin in terms of tradition and culture. Kahit ano pang pag-aaral at advancement ang ginagawa at binibigay ng kasalukuyang academe ay hindi pa rin open and broader ang understanding ng karamihan sa ating mga mamamayan. Sad to say, isa ito sa mga dahilan kung bakit nahihirapang lumabas sa closet ang illan nating kapatid sa pananampalataya. Takot sa magiging reaction ng kani-kanilang pamilya at ang lipunan as a whole.

In my case, maswerte ako dahil I did not have a problem coming out as a gay individual. In fact, I had no chance of coming out because as far as my memory could reach, I was already a princess since I was a little gurl. Charing!

Oo promise, wala akong matandaang moment kung saan nagpa-pretend akong maging boy or straight. Lahat ng mga kalaro ko noon ang mga kapatid kong babae at ang mga neighbours namin na puro girls. Tuwing nagba-bahay-bahayan naman kami ay palaging girl ang papel ko. Sa totoo lang, mas nauna pa nga akong magkaroon ng Barbie doll kesa sa mga biological sisters ko eh.

When I became older, I realised medyo odd ang aking sexuality because my parents would often scold me when I play with the girls or my other gay neighbours. Doon ko lang yata naintindihan na hindi ako tulad ng ibang lalake dahil sa lamya ng mga kilos ko. I get uneasy whenever I’m in a room or place na maraming boys, feeling ko I don’t belong. Hahaha!

Fortunately, siguro napagod na rin ang mga parents ko sa kaka-reprimand sa akin dahil I was such a hopeless case. Hindi ko rin naman napagdaanan na pasakitan ako ng aking daddy para lang maituwid ang aking sexuality. Even my mother’s super strict attitude did not scare me. I was so confident and comfortable with who or what I am. I also did good in school, both academics and extra-curricular activities kaya kahit ayaw nila sa pagiging gay ko ay natanggap na rin nila eventually because hindi naman ito naka-apekto sa studies ko and I also am helpful at home in terms of doing chores.

When I finished school, I experimented to dress and appear more feminine and surprisingly my family especially my parents did not mind. Siguro I gained their respect that despite the pressure from society and our conservative relatives, I did good by finishing my studies on time, graduating with honours and landing a job on my first application.

Coming out is a difficult stage.

I’m just so glad and lucky that I never went through it. I admire our sisters who had the courage to come out now, putting their lives in a complex state . Strong enough to face the fear of risking their relationship with their families, friends and the society. To all of you who had gone through this obstacle, I wish I had your strength too.

Coming Out by cursedgoodblessing at 27

2010-09-01T00:36:00.001+08:00

By cursedgoodblessing@27

When the word "coming out" it’s connecting to the lesbian, gay, bisexual to disclosure or found their real identity or sexual presentation. For its a long process that the "outing" person will affected but also the environment surrounds .In this process of "outing" of certain person it needs more love, attention, acceptance for what he / she is the real person himself/herself . For other people coming out is hard to say it to their families, friends, or community because of fear, ashamed and rejected if they do wanted to go "outing" which some of others wants to be closet of their sexuality and others are attempt suicide for their open up themselves of their love one which until now is still exist happens in our society today.

Many of us still ask why a gay, lesbian should or bisexual to be outing or come out? Does it shall needed? For me it should be coz as long as you keep denying about yourself who really you are its like keeping poisoning, killed and tortured our inner identity little by little. At the end of the day you will be regret for it on the other side some of the positive outcomes may be increased self-esteem, greater honesty in one’s life, and a sense of greater personal integrity. In addition, there is often a sense of relief and a reduction of tension when one stops trying to deny or hide such an important part of his/her life. “Coming out” can lead to greater freedom of self-expression, positive sense of self and more healthy and honest relationships.

Honestly I've never experience in my whole life to come out or to open up my sexuality to my parents coz they already sense that i am gay which there is no need to tell them especially my Mother is wholeheartedly accepted me for who i am while my Father is opposite that is very reluctant feeling towards me as son in which all i can to do is understand of his situation.

Every time when i read and watched coming out stories for which I can relate to myself to them Especially those parents are against or cannot accept their son or daughter for being gay I hope and pray someday more people will be more understand , tolerant ,accepting those people are "COMING OUT from the DARK CLOSET"

Coming Out (A Tribute)

2010-09-01T00:30:00.001+08:00

By Fickle Cattle

When we were children, my younger brother and I never got along. "Like cats and dogs," everyone said, and it was true. It was mostly my fault, although I blame evolution. Older brothers, it seems, just like tormenting their younger siblings, and I was particularly talented at it.

One summer, our parents enrolled us at tennis lessons. Before going to the courts I told him that he's not allowed to speak with me, or be within two meters of my immediate vicinity. When he walked up to me sometime later, I told him to go away. He didn't talk to me for a week.

There are times when I can be particularly nasty. We were having dinner, and he said something I didn't like. I retorted, "at least I'm not gay," looked at him, then snickered. His face grew red. He stood up and walked out.

Even as a child everyone knew my younger brother was gay. What talent I had in hiding the little things that betray one's desire for the same sex, he seems to have missed out on. Our tutor was particularly cruel, telling me one time that I needed to look out for my brother, because he shouldn't be allowed to grow up like that. She stressed the last word in the same pinched tone she reserved for rats or cockroaches. You didn't need to be brilliant to know what she meant.

One night, I was perhaps 15, and my brother was 13, when he walked up to me, eyes teary and red. He told me he wanted to tell me something.

Even then, I knew what it was. And I waited for the expected confession.

"I am gay," he said. And just like that, he was out. He told me he wanted to tell our parents, and I answered, in that nonchalant way I find so necessary (because I assumed indifference meant strength), that I didn't care what he decided. It was all up to him.

But that was a lie. Because I did care, in that fundamental way people can care. "I wish I was him," I thought, but I shot the idea down as soon as it came. "I'm not gay, I'm just confused," I remind myself.

But I knew in my heart that I was envious of him. Because he was brave in that particular way I couldn't be at the time. He asked himself the hard questions, and found himself strong enough to tell the truth. I admired him in a way he has never known.

I love my little brother, though I have never told him that. It is just not said in our family. We love, but we do not speak of it.

So these words I write are a tribute, and a gift. To you, whom I admire, I wish you the best in life.

This is not my story, but sometimes I wish it was.

ORGASMIC!!!

2010-09-01T00:22:00.000+08:00

This signals the start of endless gushing of posts from our 50++ Filipino gay bloggers who have joined theorgy's first ever collective blogging experience.

Each post will be published one after the other. Or as they come... out.

At 11:59PM tonight, we shall be placing the complete summary of all those who have contributed to our project. We used the pronoun "our" with the special note on "U".

Yes, you. We cannot thank you enough. We're sewing our dresses for the awards night as we tap the keys in.

So get yourselves ready, becks. Coz hell, this ain't over until the fag ladies sing:

"We're comiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing out!"

Magical 50

2010-08-30T22:42:00.001+08:00

The emotionally hungry Mykt2s.

The I-understand-and-wish-to-continue Manila Raunch.

That bad news Davaoenio they call J.

The phenomenal Lyka.

They are the four that made it to the magickal 50 bloggers. Them 50 bloggers who have outted themselves interested in theorgy's first collective blogging experience.

Calling on creative writer Rogerick Fernandez to give us a seanc-e about his blog address for you to make it to the fifty-first.

As for everyone, including those who are still wanting to join, the instructions are simple:

a) Email us your post within August 31 including a picture of you that you may want us to place right beside your entry. All entries e-posted to this will be published on the first few hours of September 1.

Do schedule the posting of your entries at exactly 12 midnight of 09/01/10 so we can come-out simultaneously.

For those with already-published entries, we will just place the link but do still come up with something in your blog so all your followers, lovers and stalkers would know that you did come out.

b) As soon as you post your entry on September 1, email us your link pronto.

c) Those who just decided to join today, you are never late like Nora.

d) The email address is, you know it, theorgyblog@gmail.com.

e) If all our explanations do not satisfy, go back to the first post, marys.

Theorgy Update 6

2010-08-27T11:21:00.003+08:00

(taking gloves his off)

So, how are we all these days?

Seven more loved ones have joined our league. What more can I say? Admit it, you're loving this. As we are.

Here are our blog-owning joiners:

Wallei.

Richie.

Lee.

Thomasian Psychologist.

PJ.

Orally.

Jaytee.

Some of you have sent us their entries and we expect most of you to e-post yours, too.

We have made some changes in the blog links and are hooking up with other joiners about their blogs.

And before we send out our XO's, muchas gracias to all those who adverti-posted the COME OUT! event and placed our wondrous logo on your respective blogs.

You are making mama proud.

The Theorgy Administrator Is Down

2010-08-27T00:53:00.001+08:00

On all fours.

Kidding.

I have been changing so many diapers lately that my hands are either too soiled or too occupied to take complete care of our beautiful baby blog and update you with so many things, i.e. changes in links, new theorgists, emailed entries.

You shall hear from me first thing tomorrow morning.

And no, I am not into scat.

Theorgy Update 104

2010-08-24T09:03:00.002+08:00

Eight more days to go and we still have more people signing up for theorgy. This time, we have 13:

Bobby Barbecho. Goddess. Mister Alembong. Jay. Ming Meows. Jimsimon. Cursedgoodblessing@27. Edgar Portalan. Justinology. Nimmy. Melanie. Tobie. Lord Fernandez.

With that, we got 3 and 1 things to say:

3. Warm hugs and friendly kisses to all ye gay bloggers. Feels like we're friends already. Thanks.

2. Please email us if you want to co-author the theorg-y blog. Otherwise, still email your September 1 entry. That way, we can post everything here and link it to your respective blogs. The email address is theorgyblog@gmail.com.

1. To Redhot and Myk2ts: you got blogs?

And yes, another 1:

A big iku of THANKS to Manila Gay Guy for having us in his blog. We are both at awe and honored.

26 Bloggers and 1 Yahoo Chatter

2010-08-19T11:23:00.002+08:00

Three more are coming out - with pictures to boot:

Baklang Maton in the Suburbs

Von Draye

And a cow.

We now have a total of 27 interested blokes who shall take the issue of coming out to the next level.

Will it entail sexual details? Will it be Maximo Oliverosesque? Or just be Shakespearean about it?

One last reminder: pls. e-post those entries to theorgyblog@gmail.com if you are having second thoughts in co-authoring this blog. I completely understand. Too many responsibilities, only two hands.

And yes, spill the invite like we gossip about the bemoustached un-outted guy at that cubicle. Rumors spread faster than advertisements.

Theorgy Update 102

2010-08-18T12:02:00.002+08:00

Let's get one thing straight: we're not.

Below is a list of bedfellows who expressed intent. A few others emailed or chatted to just show up on d-day.

Mel Beckham. Mandaya Moore. Kiks. Mugen. John Stanley. Darc Diarist. Mac Callister. Red The Mod. Jericho. The Desole Boy. Ms. Chuniverse. Ex Jason. Kiel. Callboi. Boss Becky. The blogless Rogerick Fernandez. Foxyreign. Echoserita. Zai Zai. Miguel. Takeshi. Justin. The Zen Bitch. E.

Our closet doors are still wide open for those willing to come out.

You can either post here or email us at theorgyblog@gmail.com for more.

COME OUT!

2010-08-16T08:16:00.000+08:00

There is a theory about the Filipino gay - he does not take his issues quietly.

He speaks his mind, whether in class, in a rally or possibly a bar. Or, he simply becomes good at what he does.

And these days, he blogs.

That’s why we (yes, there are many of us) thought we should have this:

Theorgy – a collective blogging experience for all g-bloggers. In this blog, we hope for each g-blogger to write about a common issue and publish his post here and/or in his own blog.

It's a collective thing, albeit an occasional one. Consider it a spur of the moment thing when all g-bloggers just decided to hold a grand EB (so yahoo messenger days) and talk about one ispecifique thing.

And why do we do this?

a) So that we get to read bloggers who may think like us or who can challenge us.

b) So that we can be read hence, creating traffic.

c) To simply express and have fun.

Convinced much? If you are, read on:

1. On September 1, we will all publish our own take on one given topic. In our native tongue: dapat sabay tayo (pun intended).

2. First topic on the board - Coming Out. Time to flex those brain muscles, stretch them tongues on why we came out or why we didn't. Or why we don’t need to. For those of us who think why it is important, or for those who think it isn't. In the fashion of The Vagina Monologues, we will have our own take on this.

3. You can write in English or Filipino. Pwede ring mag-gayspeak.

4. So if you're interested, comment on this, place the logo in your blog, and write away. (WHY THIS? So you can be included in this blog and publish your post on that date.)

5. And yes, spill. Spread the word.