My family has never been one to follow Filipino traditions.

Even my parents broke stereotypes: My mom didn’t marry young. My mom never told us to “obey men.” My dad, sister and I all got tattoos together. My dad never made us feel as if “we had to be the good wife.”

My parents separated despite everyone’s prying eyes because they prioritized peace. My parents never made us feel that we were an “embarrassment to the neighbours and relatives.” My sister and I graduated from catholic schools, but neither of us now identify as catholics.

I’ve asked out men; been rejected. I’m upfront with sexuality. I’ve flirted with women. I prefer shorts and pants, over skirts and dresses. I don’t believe in the Binibini expectations of Philippine society. I believe that religion, divorce and abortion should be choices. I’ve punched dudes. I’m covered in tattoos. I believe in a God, just not the white-bearded one. And you know what? I truly do not care what people think of me. I’m happy, and (in my own way) successful, and proud, and kind.

It’s a changing world, and it’s going to keep changing whether you’re on board or not, so might as well decide on who you want to be before you die, rather than who society (or your family) pictures you to be.