Fridae

A few years ago after living la boheme for a while, I finally decided to launch myself back into the corporate world.

I knew that there would be major changes like strict work hours, possibly a company uniform and a very straight circle of co-employees. But I needed a job and even though the artist-lesbian in me was screaming in protest at what I was about to do, I ignored that part of me for what I felt was for the better.

In the Philippines, for most gay men and lesbians, there's an unwritten rule of protocol for job interviews. We had to be conscious of our mannerisms, tone of voice and physical carriage during the entire ordeal. With this in mind, I came up with one slogan for the day: "Don't look gay."

The day I went for my job interview in an IT company, I wore my best business suit and new pair of formal boots. I went there fully made-up, with my hair neatly combed to one side of my head and to top it all, a rehearsed lady-like walk.

I needed the job and if I had to pretend to be straight, I'd do it. At that point, I knew that if I blew the job interview, I was headed for the corporate trash bin.

Thankfully, I got the job and was asked to start work as soon as possible. I looked closely at this option that was presenting itself to me: Will I have to pretend to be something I am not everyday when I walk into my new office? Most probably. But I'm not about to complain - after all, I had to follow the ways of the world to survive. Boy, was I in for a bit of a surprise.

The following weeks weren't like bloody hell at all. I noticed that everyone minded their own business and didn't poke their fingers into anybody elses' matters. My new boss was very kind, she was one of those go-getters and no-nonsense people. All that mattered was that I get my work done then I could go home after that or do what I wanted like go out and party.

Then late in the first week, it just happened. It didn't strike me like lighting or anything like that. My reaction was less than calculated or rehearsed but it was automatic and sometimes I wish I had said something better. Yet sometimes I think about what I said and I just smile at my own bravery.

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My boss asked me out of the blue: "Are you gay? Not that it matters but someone in the office noticed a few things and asked me. I said I didn't know." At that I just said "Yes, I'm gay. You can tell them that, I'm not hiding it." Surprisingly, she merely nodded and smiled at me as if we've reached a new level in our professional relationship.

The following weeks got better as my co-employees began to warm up to me. During lunch and tea breaks, when the topic about love came up, they'd ask me regular questions about relationships (in general), never focusing on my preferences. Once I did say something about being gay and they listened intently to my views. I felt their respect for me and from then on, I knew there was nothing to hide and thank god I had people skills!

There were some other companies that worked with ours and I had to interact with them at certain points during joint company meetings. Without fail, there would be nosy individuals who would ask my boss about me and my sexuality. Sometimes she'd just raise her eyebrows and say "No." (but always with the underlying tone implying that its' none of their business). And on some days, she'd just tell them to ask me straight out which they never did.

Within my office I had no problems at all, no one looked at me strange and no one questioned the way I acted, moved or spoke. Even the way I dressed was of no issue though I had started wearing comfortable colored denims with long sleeved shirts and a coat over it. I knew I was accepted and that what mattered them was the quality of my work and not my sexual preferences.

In a sense, my office is like our world - a place dominated by straight people but the difference there is that while our world remains polluted with hate and discrimination, my office is filled with an overflowing sense of open-mindedness, understanding and acceptance.