Let me start with the person who are tools of my becoming. My Dad. He passed away last 2003. I always knew that there is a huge undiscovered potential relationship between me and my Dad. I was 22 back then, just starting my career life. The battle between us started ever since I was young, at the moment when life innocence was taken away from me. We are always at war of ideas and every conversation end up with disappointment. I am his favorite actually and the carrier of his first name as to the 3rd generation. Every male siblings he has is masculine, strong willed, strong character, strong physically, like every other young men in the village who loves to talk about cute girls and whom choices of dress and words are just so men. But not me, he always got pissed off on me. He always told me to be like him or the rest of my brother. I did try, try to have girls in my high school, play with cute guys and so on, I try but I just can’t force myself. So I choose to act discreet and whenever he is around I would be so compose. But he also appreciates and complimented me and that makes me cry about. He told me I’m genius, that he hopes so much about the future because I will give him success and that he said he loves me but I just have to listen to him. Those memories are killing me and seems to awaken the longing of how much I wanted to hug and spend time with him. But that’s all just in words now, that is the reality that I would never taste until I met my grave.
To my mom, I am like a king. She always innot cheering me up, my shoulder to cry on and my comforter. She gives me strength I never understood where she draw and a love I would never feel from anyone else. How could I forget how much she love me. She said I’m merciful and soft. She will never miss a kiss from me when i see or depart from her and she will always hug me back. Mom said, I am his child physically but not mentally. She said I change a lot since I left the family for college and by then when I visited her she would always tell s me how really change I am. That’s sad because she thinks she can’t influence me anymore, but it’s wrong. She would always tell me stories of how she would commend me and of how proud she is about me. She is my number fan. She say that I am a blessing and that I will bring wealth and success in the family. She said my mind is beautiful and powerful, that I think very different and she said she could not even understand me sometimes. My mom is so delicate, she is and always be delicately love by me.
Having four brothers and one sister is a regular type filipino family. But the pain of being different form them is like a knife that cuts though my skin every time they would speak to me things like why can’t you be like this, we don’t want us to be put to shame because of you, you’d better change, nothing is good with being like that, no! it can’t be – you can’t be gay!, there is a way to change you, you have to be masculine and so on and so forth. In spite of these, being the shaker of my mind I could still draw strength from them, they are my inspiration and will always be loved and help by my unconditionally.
Classmates. There are classmates who are friends, bff, acquaintances and just on lookers. But most of them would agree how coarse and boisterous I am and at the same time how sensitive and caring. To those whom I have been with, they won’t speak ill of me but will always correct me and challenge my manhood. It’s not fun rather I feel being bullied, fooled and tried. Way back elementary days am a real freak. I like girls as playmates and really hates the boys game. During high school there would be so many times that my classmates would call me a harlot like and the same codes or identity, that acutally force me act decently. 'Till college I never get too close with guys. My life revolves around with soft guys and girls who seems to be undestructive and wholesome. Generally, classmates spoke of me as being fun to be with, teaser, jolly, smiley, soft, warring lips, having an untame mouth and tongue, and most often being mis-interpreted.
So much has been told about friendship. And every person has a unique and different stories or twist in their friendship. To my dear fiends who has been there in my hard and difficult times, I will never ever forget you and will always seek ways to be re-united with you. To my friends they say I make them laugh, I make them smile when they are gloomy, I find good stuff and things they need, a helpful person and an ideal man of life. I will never ever forget when me and my friends sit together for a coffee, diner and even just for a past time. Friends would call me barbaric, pervert, unjust, emotional, nagger, aggressive, irrational, hard hearted, notorious, careless, a loving person and a very extravagant guy. This people range from a feminist, discreet gay guys, effeminate, single mom, straight guys, loner, musician, bad temper, high class, spiritual, and even geek. Every one of them has to say about me either good or bad, I just have to listen and take them as they are.
People from work would generally comment how serious I am. How discreet and always give my favor the management. They say I am one sided and would not listen to what my co-employee would tell me. A boss killer, a snob, a power player, a gossiper and a pretender. Anyway that’s all true.
Great shift. It’s been nearly three months as of this writing this article when i left Philippines to work and live in one of the Gulf country. Some notable comments about me: bi-man, effeminate, clumsy, sociable, intolerable taste in fashion, beautiful mind, selfless, ladylike, laughing out loud, boisterous, loud, sexy, clean, arguing man, not strong will power, smiling, skillful, helpful, flirt, deviant, anti-social and always get favorited. Some are true, definite and other is just irritating. No matter what they think or tell me I am grateful. But doesn’t change who I am, the way I am and what I meant to be.
by: bodengdeng
