"BOY-FRIENDS"

(a lgbt story of finding genuine male friendship)

As I scrolled through TikTok, something came up that hit me through the core. It instantly brought me back to my childhood, and somehow it made me relive my past as a Grade 6 student.

The caption on the video says:

"Every gay [queer] man needs his straight guy friend who healed this kid who was always bullied for being different than other guys."

I remember when I was in elementary school, I never really had a close group of male friends. Most of the people that I have close interactions with are girls. At first, I didn't have any issues with it. I never even noticed that something was odd in our setup until someone indirectly commented, saying that I might be "silahis," while others silently smirked and quietly said to themselves the word "gay."

I didn't really mind them at all because, in my head, when I'm with my girl classmates, I am safe and secure. I can easily make them laugh, and they're appreciative and kind.

Safe and Secure. Wow, these were big words indeed. Words that I rarely felt when I was a kid. Growing up, I didn't really feel that I was cared for. Yes, I was fed, given nice clothes, and was able to study in a private school, but the affection and words like "I'm proud of you" or "I love you" were never heard.

There were times when I wanted to pursue things but never felt that I was supported. Having an absentee father and an overbearing mother isn't really a good mix. I was often invalidated when I have my opinions, was labelled just being "nag-iinarte" when being hurt, and wasn't really consoled when I experience pain.

That's why I grew up having passive-aggressive feelings towards men. Whenever a guy talks to me, I instantly put my walls up, ready to flee at any given moment. I was afraid to use the urinal in comfort rooms, thinking someone might invade my privacy and make fun of me.

Other kids when hurt, can easily turn to their dads or elder brothers for support. On the other hand, there I was left in the dark corner of my room—no one to express my feelings. I wanted to cry but had to keep quiet because I was afraid that they'd get upset if they heard me. Insensitive remarks, verbal abuse, and slight physical beatings are my kind of norm.

That's why I grew up having passive-aggressive feelings towards men. Whenever a guy talks to me, I instantly put my walls up, ready to flee at any given moment. I was afraid to use the urinal in comfort rooms, thinking someone might invade my privacy and make fun of me. I was afraid of asking men for directions or assistance, thinking that I might receive a cold shoulder and be annoyed at me. I'm afraid of making friends with them because they might think I'm into them.

But the irony is... I'm into them. I'm attracted to them. There are a lot of things that attract me to them. Most of the time, it is their physique and their smile; oftentimes, it is their talent in performing arts, their cool and smooth presence, their intellect in certain topics, how they acquire a lot of friends and have fun adventures with them, or just being a nice person.

After 33 years of living on this earth, I'm still learning to balance it all. Balancing between having the courage to meet guys and also making me realize that in order for this person to continue to be my friend, I should not go beyond their boundaries and accept what they can only offer.

But it all boils down to this one thing: Safety and Security. I want to feel safe. Just like how a father wraps his arm around his son. I want to feel secure. To be protected, affirmed, and complimented, or to make me realize that I'm doing a good job.

Coming out as bisexual wouldn't do anything to improve my situation, really. Now, men would have a more legitimate reason to avoid me because of their fear that I might get attracted and attached to them. They aren't totally wrong, though. You see, people who were deprived of affection from their male authority figures when they were children would sometimes get attached to the first guy who'd show them one. And even if I tell them that I'm not that type of a guy and that I can manage my feelings, would they honestly believe me?

After 33 years of living on this earth, I'm still learning to balance it all. Balancing between having the courage to meet guys and also making me realize that in order for this person to continue to be my friend, I should not go beyond their boundaries and accept what they can only offer.

So far, I'm doing good. I currently have a handful of guy friends who not only accept me for who I am but also treat me just like their ordinary friends. The way they treat me is genuine; I felt their care, their concern, their support, and their brotherly love. And I don't want it any other way!

I have a guy friend whom I can consider my protector, and I have another one whom I know will defend me if I'm treated unfairly. There are others who remained loyal when the rest walked out, and there is a guy who cared for me when my mental health disorder was being triggered.

I may not have had a good relationship with male authority in the past, but I'm still grateful that I didn't close my doors on the possibility of having a genuine friendship with them. With what I have right now, I'm content, happy, and grateful for my guy friends who unknowingly heal that bullied kid in Grade 6.