Under the Bed

When I was younger I used to hide under the bed in the master’s bedroom and made it as a refuge from the shouts of my mom for lunch. I disliked vegetables, which my mom cooks ever so often. One instance I hid there and to my surprise when I looked up I saw my dad naked. I never forgot that incident.
I felt different growing up. When I played with the neighborhood children they would usually call me names and say that my actions were too soft for a boy. I would usually ignore them. Until one kid started cursing me, he told me that I wasn’t supposed to be in this world and that I was better off in the dumps. He felt my fist on his face after he said that (There goes the softie giving the bully a good spanking).
It was not an easy childhood. The kids in the neighborhood would tease me and call me names, sometimes my younger brother would defend me from their name calling but I was never relieved from the anxiety that it brought me. At that time I did not know why they make fun of me and the reason behind every taunt and laughter. Also, most of the time my mom, whenever we would be in public, would discreetly say to me, “Ano ba… Ayusin mo nga ‘yang galaw mo. Para ka niyang bakla e.” I came to fear the fact that I was gay and I stopped myself from being one. The bed became my refuge from my mom’s constant nagging. I stayed there for years.
Every school year I would have different girl crushes and I would let one of my classmates know so he or she would tell my other classmates and start a teasing frenzy between me and that girl. When I was in my first year in high school I had a “crush” on a new student. She never liked me. I told one of my close friends that I had a crush on her and eventually she learned about it. She got awkward with the idea. She did not talk to me for months and that triggered my “romantic” tendencies; I gave her a certificate of apology I made myself; and more letters – I wrote sorry letters to her even though I knew that I should not be apologizing. It lasted for a year. She eventually got fed up and confronted me – dumped me in other words. I had a few attempts after that, I even tried to court a close friend of mine but some other guy won over me. I tried to be “normal” but I failed.
I did not give up on liking or admiring girls (I still do sometimes – I actually have girl crushes), I just knew that I was gay and that I would want to be with a guy but I was in denial because of the possible disappointment of the people around me (especially my mom). But it was not easy hiding under the bed. Finally I came out to one of my close friends when I was in the College of music. I was now ready to face reality – that I am gay and I have no power to change that. It was in our bowling class and I told her that I was dating a guy. She was not shocked but instead she smiled and hugged me. For the first time in my life I felt “accepted”. I felt confident enough to come out to some of my other close friends. I ignored the fact that some of them might find it offensive (considering two of my closest friends are homophobic).
Slowly, I was creeping out of the comforts of the space under the bed. Coincidences don’t happen. I believe that your actions lead to certain events. While I was inside my room reviewing my lessons, my mom came in and out of the blue she asked me, “Are you gay?” I said a resounding no. She knew that I was lying (I was never a good liar and my mom knows it when I lie), so she asked again. I finally said, yes. She was devastated. She ran to the master’s bedroom crying. I followed her and she closed the bedroom door. My mom sat in the bed wiping her tears; I sat on the bed my back facing her. I asked her why she was crying and she told me that she was disappointed and that she was scared of me growing old with no one by my side to take care of me. I did not try to defend my status I just sat there crying. More discouraging words came out of her but I forgot most of them or I deliberately erased them from my memory. I was hurt that night. I found comfort under the bed once more.
Soon after, my dad who would usually be working overseas knew about”me”; he did not try to hit me or violently shove my head into a drum filled with water. Instead, he was silent about it but once on a while he’ll throw sarcastic remarks whenever he would see some gay character on television. Though I was unlike the stereotype gay-parlorista you see on television. I chose to stay as masculine as I can be. In my friends’ and family’s eyes I never changed but their views about my gender did. I was now subjugated to too much skepticism like every gay man in the Philippines. Much of it I blame on the macho culture embedded in the system of every Filipino. My dad was one of them.
I wouldn’t blame anyone for my current state. Some studies say that the environment causes homosexuality, in which case the absence of my dad in most of my life could be a factor. But I did not consider that because if that was the case both my younger brothers would also be gay.

You see us most of the time but its either you ignore us or give us prejudice. I think that as someone who is considered a deviant in the society, our goal is not to be accepted but, our outmost concern is that we be respected as a part of the society we are in. Homosexuality has been around for centuries even the Greeks have artistic representations or relics that show it. Despite my confidence and liberal thinking, sometimes, I still crawl under the bed hoping for the assurance that in the future life for “our kind” will be better.