Is he a he?

As I held my sister’s palm—who was then pouring with tears, I showed strength that never came out of me before. Strength that I can say is half true but is wholeheartedly necessary. I have to be the big sibling for my sister who was 4 years old and my brother who was 5.

The tears behind the iris of my eyes are what kept me silent as my parents grabbed their four-wheeled suitcase. It brought me back to the last time I saw my mother cry. It was when she had an argument with my grandmother. Arguments that are centred with my mother’s decision of not continuing college that greatly impacted the life she has right now. The decision of birthing me instead of enrolling for the next semester at nursing school.

It was me whom my mother chose. It was me who caused her setbacks. And it was also me who became the reason why they had to fly on the other side of the world for better income. Sometimes I blame myself but most of the time I am pressured to achieve greater things for them. To this day, they expect me to be the best. In fact, they have a life planned out for me—to go to law school after my undergrad.

I am Wreighnel and I am a grade 12 student of Ilocos Norte National High School taking Humanities and Social Sciences. I am a debater; A writer; and a Capricorn. I am Wreighnel and I strive to be the perfect son. 

The perfect son to my father means to be able to provide him the tallest basketball player grandson he will ever have. To my mother, is to have a son who owns properties and millions of money that will nurse her when she gets old. 

But I will never be the perfect son because I do not plan to have kids nor to have a wife. I know that they’re aware of that. As early as 3 years old, I showed them that I wasn’t the son they expected me to be. I wasn’t the son who could provide them with grandchildren.

Is he a he?— was already a question for the people around me long before I figured out myself that I was gay. I was a hyper little boy that played with dolls over trucks, like my aunties better than my titos, and feminine things over masculine. I was a boy that didn’t pass the standard of being a “he”. 

At 13, I began questioning: What does it really mean to be a he? Every night, I enter a world where I try to conform with society’s standard of being a boy because I badly want to finally fit in. Do I have to be hyper masculine or do I have to ride a motorcycle? Do I have to date multiple women at the same time like what my lolo padong do or do I have to smoke and drown myself with alcohol like my tito wapo?

As I grew up, I learned that I don’t have to be a he. I don’t have to conform to the binary standard of gender. I don’t have to believe that  I have to be a boy to be enough and I don’t have to be a girl either. I’m neither a boy or a girl. 

With all of these realisations and acceptance from myself, I learned to finally accept my identity even if others think that this is “just a phase”. To finally create my own story and be me as the author.

I know who I am and I wish to show my parents that—the Wreighnel who’s familiar to them but in the same breath, Wreighnel who’s different. Two months from now, I’ll be able to see them again and show the fruit of my labour. After almost five years, I’ll be able to hug the people who first chose me over anyone or anything. To finally show them that I may not be a he anymore but I will always try to be the son they once loved.