Toeing the straight line

Not too long ago, I tagged along on an old friend’s out-of-town trip with some of her college friends. Some people I knew in passing, but there were a few guys I didn’t know until that weekend. They were nice enough, their faces almost as forgettable as their names. There was nothing in the way we were interacting that indicated a genuine connection, but we were able to have a few laughs so I felt comfortable enough to be a little candid. “Wow,” I said, “I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with this many straight guys before.”

The look on their faces was incredulous, at the very least. They found it so strange that they asked my friend if I was being serious. What normal girl doesn’t have straight guy friends? Well, there’s me.

I’ve been called many things for my tendency to keep friends of the gay persuasion: a fag hag, a beard, a weirdo. I’ve never had any issues with it; there are worse things to be called. I’ve been a fag hag even back in high school when homosexuality was not just frowned upon, but punishable — in soirees and school fairs, I always gravitated towards the ones whose humor complemented mine, who took notice of my weird clothes, liked the same boys I did, and actually listened to what I had to say.

I love my girl friends, but I can’t deny the deep, almost fraternal bond with my gay friends. I’ve never had an uncomfortable moment around them. They’ve never made me feel like there was something wrong with me, but they’re never stingy on brutal honesty when they know that I’m doing something wrong. I know their problems and I’ve heard of their fears. Contrary to what the ignorant think, there’s nothing about them that makes them different from heterosexuals. They feel the same things, think the same things, they’re as brilliant and as innovative as the best of us. This is why I feel so aggrieved on their behalf when I see them getting hurt by other people for being “different.”

Abuse and bullying against the gay community, especially here in the Philippines, is as prevalent as ever. But in the same way a lot of us have stereotyped homosexuals, there also seems to be a prevailing stereotype on how they are treated. When we think of how the gay community is often treated, we relate it to the kind of violence we often see on TV — slapping, pulling hair, dunking their heads in giant pails until they convert to heterosexuality. It’s a buffet of clichés that often leads us to think that abuse is exclusively limited to bruises that bloom on their cheeks and the wounds on their arms.

But the abuse is just as real as ever, and its face is changing. While more and more gay men are becoming comfortable to come out of the closet, it is still a difficult process for them to go through, as ignorance and intolerance prevails in Philippine society. Many gay guys I know say that they often get attacked or bullied with words, but these are nonetheless as painful as getting punched in the gut.

Twenty-two-year-old Froilan, who struggled with his sexual orientation while studying in a very conservative Catholic school, shares that he got teased a lot when he was younger. “They would say, ‘Bakla! Bakla! Balik ka sa parlor mo!’ in school and in the subdivision.” He attributes these hateful acts to his difficulty with coming out. “I think nahirapan ako because I hid it, and I hated myself for being gay,” he explains. “I saw it as a curse.”

Art student Alex says that he was ostracized by a lot of his male peers while growing up. “They rejected me for being effeminate or simply being unable to interact with them. They knew I was different, and being different in school was frowned upon,” he recalls.

Lorenzo (name has been changed), says that while his parents are aware of his sexual orientation, he still isn’t comfortable with fully coming out. “(The process) was pretty much difficult, and even until now, (it’s hard) to reconcile who I am to what I believe in.”

Despite Lorenzo’s choice to conceal his sexuality, he still receives his own share of abuse — even from complete strangers. “One evening, I got off a jeepney to transfer to another route. I was wearing plain corporate attire. Maybe there was a gesture, a pilantik, that I might have overlooked when I heard someone shouting at me, ‘Uy, sexy, saan ka punta? Lika dito!’  He was imitating a typical gay guy’s voice.”

Many gay men believe that the ignorance that prevails against their sex is largely attributed to how they are portrayed in popular culture. Alex believes that media is showing only a fragment of what homosexuality has to offer. “Homosexuality is a multifaceted world,” he says, “And what people are used to seeing is glitter and show tunes. I think the portrayal of gays in media is a work in progress.”

It gives me hope, though, to know that things are changing, and they’re changing for the better. This isn’t merely the observation of a person who may sympathize with the gay community’s causes, but rather the perspective of many younger homosexuals as well. The gay millennial’s experience is so far vastly different from previous generations’. Homosexuals are gradually learning to live in a world that tolerates and even accepts them.

“I’d like to believe that people are becoming more and more accepting of people like me,” says 22-year-old Joje, who explains that he has never experienced any explicit form of homophobia firsthand. “I try to shape their views of what it is to be homosexual by engaging them in conversations about what I am, how we love, and things of that nature… Not everyone I engage with has a positive reaction but at least I try to reach out to tell them that there exists another ‘truth’ outside of what they think is true with regards to people like us, like being spawns of hell and whatnot.”

Joje’s friend Pierre also doesn’t believe in answering other people’s ignorance with the same dose of hate. “Getting called ‘bakla’ in such a demeaning way did hurt my feelings when I was a kid, but I’m not the type to fight fire with fire,” he shares. “For me, it’s about proving to everyone that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being homosexual, and that liking the same sex doesn’t make someone less of a person.”

Froilan says that seeing more people being comfortable in their own skin helped him with his own coming out process. “I felt more empowered when I saw a lot of gays in college who are comfortable with themselves. The crowd is just more open about it, too. That’s why I think I came out, (because) I wanted to have the same freedom I saw in them.”

It would be nice to think that the situation is improving but the fight for the gay community’s equality still has a lot to overcome. It’s a saddening truth, but a sobering one, too. Because if the world has truly changed the way gay men are perceived and treated, it would not be a problem for them to come out of the proverbial closet. In fact, they wouldn’t need to come out of any closet at all.

“Educating people is one thing, but showing them that homosexuality is completely okay, that we’re able to live normal lives like normal people is another,” Pierre emphasizes. “Honestly, I think for some, it boils down to religion. If these conservatives who cling so much to their traditional, bigoted beliefs would just stop being so closed-minded and actually listen for the first time, maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with bullying and gay-shaming.”

Whoever is to be blamed for gay people’s continued struggle for equality remains entirely debatable, but one thing’s certain — nothing is more painful than being shamed into being someone you aren’t just because popular opinion dictates it. The sad thing is, this refusal of homosexuals to come out seems to be a determination to hide something that is ugly or shameful, but it really is a decision to keep something that makes them unique and, quite frankly, beautiful.

Like many of my gay friends, though, I remain optimistic over this path we have undertaken. Hopefully when the day comes that we have found genuine love and acceptance, the only thing hiding in the closet will just be clothes.