A few days ago I had a conversation with my mother about my sister who, we both felt, would be better off moving to another job.
“Dapat lumipat na siya. Parang walang mangyayari sa kanya kung magse-stay siya with *****,” I said.
To which my mother replied, “Oo, wala siyang aasahang asenso doon kasi bakla iyon.”
It felt like someone just slipped an ice cube down my back.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“It’s not supposed to mean anything. It’s just that pag bakla di mo alam…” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. I think she deliberately mumbled the words knowing that a discussion was imminent. But I wasn’t in the mood to argue so I let it go.
Nice. My mother the bigot.
My mother believes that homosexuality is a character flaw and being gay makes a person unstable and generally suspect. Hence, all gay men are certain to throw away their fortune and the fortunes and well-being of others at the first sign of cock. Oh yeah, and she believes that gay men will chase anyone with a penis. Conversely, lesbians will take advantage of anyone with a vagina. In short, gays are degenerate sexual predators. “But,” she often says to soften her bigotry, “I find baklas funny.” Hooray for gay men! They may be degenerate sexual predators in her book but at least they’re funny. Lesbians, try harder.
I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. I grew up hearing my mother make idiotic remarks whenever she sees a gay person walking down the street. In the most annoying Facifica Falayfay impression, she’d say, “Ay baklaaaa! Hoy bakla tumabi-tabi ka riyan at baka masagasaan ka!”
It must be a real riot to be inside my mother’s head with all the syokis and badafs: Dolphy in dual incarnations as Fefita Fofonggay and Facifica Falayfay, Bernardo Bernardo as Manay Sharon and Soxy Topacio, Sandy Garcia and Georgie Quizon as themselves. Hag heaven circa ‘70s and ‘80s. Bongga!
Because this is such a bigoted, politically-incorrect society in the first place, I’ve learned not to make a big deal out of ugly anti-homosexual remarks. But it does get a wee bit too much when you hear them from your own mother. Especially since she is well aware that I’m a lesbian.
I came out to her out of sheer exasperation.
Months after a relationship of mine ended, she began asking why my “friend” no longer came to the house. I casually explained that she was busy with work. It would have ended there except my mother got it into her head that it was because we had a fight; and that I was, in fact, the bad person in the scenario and was being “unforgiving,” “bad-tempered” and generally not a good friend. For months, she would ask me about it whenever she had a chance.
One evening, while the two us were having dinner she brought it up again and as usual, recited her litany of reasons why I was a Bad Friend. Finally incensed, I blurted out, “Hindi na siya pumupunta dito kasi split na kami!”
“Wha…whaat do you mean?”
“I mean: she was my girlfriend and now we’re no longer together so stop asking me about it.”
Silence.
Finally she spoke. “Did you have… (insert look of distaste)…sex?” Eeeewww. What the fuck kind of a question is that to ask your own child?!
“Naku hindi! Naga-Amy-Susy lang kami.”
More silence. Then she said the cruelest thing. “Well, good for her. At least she got out. Now she can live a normal life.”
Why thanks Mother, I really needed to hear that. For a moment I was seized by a strong desire to go Norman Bates on her. Just reach over and stab her thoughtless, ignorant heart with a chicken wing. And before she closes her eyes for the final time I’d say, “Well, good for you. At least you got out. Now you can live a peaceful life.”
Through the years we have kept an uneasy peace about my being gay. She just refuses to acknowledge it as far as she can. I talk about it to get her off my back. For instance, whenever I’d get tired of her pestering me about my sister’s lovelife (which my sister and I agreed is none of her business) I just volunteer to tell her about mine instead. “I don’t wanna hear it.” She leaves me alone. Ah, bliss.
Though sometimes she comes up with these weird non sequiturs.
“I think kaya ka nagka-ganyan kasi you never really had a father.” Apparently there is something gay about cars, which is what we were discussing before she made that remark.
Once, we had that textbook heterosexual conversation about gayness. “Baka naman kaya ka ganyan kasi you never tried going out with a man.” I knew where this would lead but I wanted to give it a chance. “Maybe you’re right,” I said, “And I haven’t really closed my doors to that possibility. Of course I’ll give it a try if I meet a really extraordinary guy who I feel an emotional connection with. But the thing is, it’s hard for me to connect with men on a romantic, emotional level. On a physical level, yes, but I really can’t imagine being with a guy for the rest of my life. Maybe as a best friend, yeah.”
“E kasi nga you haven’t tried,” she persisted.
After much argument I finally said, “Okay, here’s the thing. Let’s reverse the question. Why don’t you try going out with a woman instead?”
Revulsion. “Ay ano ka ba?! I’m not like that!”
Well, there ya go.
