Lesbi-honest about pop culture

In which lesbians are the subject of misrepresentation in mainstream media.

MANILA, Philippines - In recent times, the Philippines has been cited as one of the most gay-friendly countries in the world. And you can say it’s almost obvious, as many homosexual entertainers and professionals are respected and esteemed. Yet, for a country so seemingly tolerant, why is it that the only local word for lesbian is “tomboy”? Sometimes it seems like if you’re a homosexual female and you don’t fall under the specifications of a tibo, you might as well not call yourself a lesbian that you might as well not even exist.

Why is this a problem? I grew up in an all-girl Catholic high school where girl-on-girl relationships were undeniably common. There was the more usual butch-femme couple, yet you would also hear of girly girls going out with one another. You would also see a butch lesbian, or what is most known as a tibo, locking hands with another tibo. This was the kind of non-discriminating environment I knew (that is, apart from the rules implemented by the school against it, but that is a different matter). I grew up among peers who thought that it didn’t matter how you looked; it was either you liked girls or you didn’t.

I liked girls. I considered myself a feminine lesbian, because I enjoyed dressing up and preferred wearing my hair long. But I adored girls, fell in love with them, and chose to be with them because I found them to be such interesting partners. In hindsight, however, I don’t think I was taken seriously as a lesbian. In turn, it took me too long to accept my sexuality the way I, or anyone, deserved to.

Straight friends and relatives would often say “Don’t you think it’s just a phase?” and “You just haven’t had the chance to interact with boys” when they’d find out I was seeing a girl from school.

 The discrimination did not come in the form of violence or hate, but in a brand of mockery, of a certain kind of contempt built upon the notion that I was confused, that I was only influenced by my more butch-y friends, and that, worst of all, I could not get a guy to like me. After all, I didn’t really want to be a boy, did I? It was a sneaky attack against my identity, causing me to doubt my place for years.

This kind of discrimination, I assume, is partly due to a lack of representation of the diversity in the lesbian community in the mainstream media. Mainstream media still operates on the ancient belief that all lesbians are tibo, which means that we all want to act and dress like boys, and even in some cases, to actually be boys. While it isn’t wrong to want to be a boy, this isn’t everyone’s identity. This could pose several problems as to how lesbians in society are seen and treated. Not only do they affect the way other people see lesbians, but they also affect the way lesbians regard themselves.

There are feminine girls who like girls, date girls, and even fall in love with girls, but don’t see themselves as lesbians simply because they’re feminine and like girly things. The stereotype of the girl who is pumapatol lang has implications on how people see lesbians as a whole and on the girls’ identities.

While it is good to note that openly lesbian singers Aiza Seguerra and Charice Pempenco have admirably braved discrimination, and that the TV segment That’s My Tomboy showed a mark of progress in accepting lesbians, this is only a part of a bigger victory to be won. If these truly show greater tolerance, I hope that we do not stop here, given that there are more voices to be heard and felt.

Most lesbians, no matter what they wear or how they look, would like to be recognized for what we are, and that this is not something we chose out of circumstance. We do not want to think of ourselves as any less of a person for not choosing to be with boys, because we are not sayang for wanting to spend our lives with women. And we certainly don’t want to think we are any less of a lady by our sexual orientation.

Perhaps by the media merely acknowledging that lesbians other than the tibo exist, more people will see the reality that it is possible, and by denying that someone they know is a lesbian might be doing us harm and confusion. That refusing to acknowledge this reality reflects the male-dominant society we live in — the belief that we will eventually be betrothed to men who will take care of us. That lesbianism and our current feelings towards ourselves are only temporary. It may not be an aggressive protest against the kind of life we live, but it is a cunning attack against our self-worth.