By Gabriel Bernales
“Baks, kaya pa ba?”
It’s a question I often hear light on the surface, but heavy underneath. It’s as if someone’s asking me if I’m truly okay. And to be honest? I’m not.
Imagine waking up every day expecting bigotry, microaggressions, and insults masked as “jokes.” Welcome to the gay club.
Living and identifying as queer in this province adds another layer to the struggle. Growing up, I was constantly told to “man up” or “act properly” if I wanted to earn respect in the community.
But what if I don’t want to conform? What if I simply want to live life as it’s meant for me—authentically and freely?
I can’t begin to comprehend how our community are expected to thrive in a country with almost no safe spaces, limited access to services, and barely any recognition from the government. We are often cast aside, then gaslit told we’re “demanding too much” and should settle for mere tolerance. This is precisely why our community continues to fight for rights, for space, for dignity.
If we’re supposedly asking for too much, then why are so many of us still ridiculed and dehumanized every day? Why are we expected to be “normal,” as if we’re not just trying to survive in a world that barely acknowledges our existence?
Is this really the “tolerance” they speak of?
I’m tired of how everyone uses the queer community to bait allyship, parading as supporters when, in reality, we’re just pawns in their agenda, only to be pushed aside when it no longer benefits them.
We are not here to be tokenized. We are here to be accepted, to live freely, and to continue fighting for recognition and rights that should’ve been ours long ago. I refuse to stay silent while
I see my fellow queer people struggle, silenced, or shamed for simply existing.
Still, I hold onto hope. Hope for a world where kindness outweighs cruelty, where empathy replaces ignorance, and where being queer isn’t something you survive but something you can proudly live.
