There was one time when I caught a glimpse of an Indian friend walking by, dressed in her national attire. I thought to myself: What a beautiful thing! But at the same time, I wondered – why don’t we, as Filipinos, do that anymore? I told her how admirable it is that many Indians still wear their traditional attire to work, and how beautiful it is that their culture, despite being colonized by the British, has not been fully invaded – at least not in how they dress. It’s the complete opposite of what happened in my country, where most Filipinos don’t even realize how deeply our culture has faded – eroded by colonialism that, though officially over, still lingers in subtle and persistent ways even 127 years after our supposed freedom. I took my own life under a microscope to assess how I’ve been living still in the shackles of colonialism. And I knew: a new level of liberation and healing was about to begin. If you’re a Filipino reading this week’s newsletter, I invite you to keep an open mind and heart. Use this as reflection for your own journey. Today, I’m sharing my observations, research, and reflections on the dormant effects of post-colonialism – and how to live true to your identity while being a global citizen. 1. The Standard of Beauty and ClothingI vaguely remember Filipinos wearing baro’t saya or Filipiniana during normal occasions. The only memory I have so far was when I was a flower girl for my aunt’s wedding where men at least wore barong. And now? We only wear them on very grand, themed occasions – and that’s if you even find one. Colonialism didn’t stop at clothing. It seeped through the fabric and right into our skin. So many Filipinos want lighter skin. In the Philippines, many billboards still promote whitening products. Even full-blooded Filipino celebrities are only truly revered if they fit a western standard of beauty – or more recently, a Korean version of it. Some even take pride in having just 10% of foreign blood – holding it up as a badge of superiority, while downplaying or distancing themselves from their full Filipino identity. We were told by our colonizers that we weren’t beautiful, that we weren’t enough, that we were indios (an old Spanish colonial term used to demean native Filipinos, meaning “lesser”). Worse, our schools taught history like a memorization contest – dates and names over how colonisation actually hurt us and made us feel. We now have kababayans who believe the lies of the West. But in reality, we’re beautiful. We age slower. Our clothing is royal and regal – intricately woven from pineapple leaves, masterfully embroidered.
2. The AFAM NormalisationOnce, while visiting El Nido, I overheard my siblings say: “Look at those girls with their afams.” I asked, “What does afam mean?” “AFAM” originally meant A Foreigner Assigned in Manila, but evolved into slang for Westerners in romantic relationships – often linked to perceived wealth. I was shaking my head and thought: when did we become this? As I dug deeper, I recalled memories from childhood: white foreigners visiting our barangay were treated like celebrities. Older aunties would even “reto” (refer) their nieces as potential girlfriends. And no – it wasn’t out of kapwa (shared identity). It came from internalized inferiority. Where did the Datu spirit go? The harana culture? When did we trade love songs and family courtship for the illusion of status and escape? Of course, I respect and recognize genuine inter-racial relationships rooted in love and equality. But I’m talking about those formed from insecurities and self-forsaking beliefs. 3. Music, Movies, and BusinessesThis isn’t just about Filipinos. It’s a global phenomenon. I love my American friends – but when I became more aware of my colonized mindset, I couldn’t unsee it. Online, what goes globally viral are American accounts, American music, American trends, American businesses – everywhere. Understandably, most platforms are American-made. Colonialism is a reminder how one can destroy someone by simply making them question their worth. So now what?In this modern world, you can’t just abandon everything western (as an Easterner) or everything eastern (as a Westerner). But we can reflect, reclaim, and live with more intention. Here’s how: 1. Start by Noticing What’s Not Truly YoursAs with anything, awareness is step one. I’ve studied this in school, written research papers on it. But no amount of theory beats the moment you truly wake up. That “come home” moment when you see the invisible chains you’re still dragging. Do we all need this? Because without awareness, our culture stays shallow, our roots don’t deepen. Just look at our media. Same stories: kabit, K-pop influences. All commercialized, predictable. I believe we can create more original and meaningful works when we focus on our own. 2. Reclaim Your Choices with Conscious PrideFilipinos are so welcoming – we embrace everything. That’s beautiful. But it must come from a place of confidence, not colonial trauma. Before we embrace others, let’s embrace our own. Our roots, our race, our rhythm. 3. Let Your Work Reflect Your RootsWhen you live from a place of truth, your creativity deepens. Your voice becomes clearer. Your life becomes art. And that nationality fame disparity? It begins to balance, one conscious creation at a time. A freed mind starts with an open mind. At the end of the day, we’re not just nationalities or skin tones. I’d love to hear your perspective. Hit reply and let’s have a thoughtful and respectful exchange – no matter where you’re from or what your background is. Or you can simply take a screenshot 🤳🏼and tag me on Instagram or forward this to someone who needs to hear it. 🌿 Questions for You This Week1. Where have you unknowingly replaced your identity with someone else’s ideal? 2. What gifts can you bring into the world when you stop performing and start creating from who you truly are? In honor of the ancestors and the future, “Dobby is freee 🧦\(^▽^)/” |
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