Double Invisibility
A friend once asked me if I’ve ever felt invisible as a bi person. I replied, “Well, I’m Filipino American, so I’m kind of used to it.”
Today I celebrate my second Bi Visibility Day since I came out a year and a half ago in my essay “Late to the Party.” Since then, I’ve felt doubly invisible, especially around other Filipinos. Because straight Filipinos straight-up don’t want to talk about queerness.
Coming out bi is a monumental moment in anyone’s life. Coming out very publicly in an essay that addressed my experiences with bi-erasure in publishing made it even more jarring. While many people were incredibly supportive—especially in the writing community—the hate that was thrown my way was as hurtful as it was predictable. Catholics gossiped about how my soul was now condemned to hell, friends distanced themselves from me, and a certain relative told my wife that I was an embarrassment and questioned if I was cheating on her with a man. Fun stuff!
Even with all of these toxic reactions, what confounded me most was how many of my close straight friends pretended that my coming out had never happened. In the days that followed, folks whom I’ve known for twenty plus years absolutely refused to acknowledge the biggest event in my life since the birth of my son. You want to talk about the Dodgers or the latest Marvel trailer? Sure thing! But anything about a new identity that I don’t agree with should be kept in the closet—where you should have stayed. This silence and erasure cut deep. It made me question who exactly were my real friends, and who really cared about my emotional well-being. Out of all the people who’ve said they’d always be down for me, who actually meant it? Homophobia takes many forms, and silence is not the least of them.
Those who are aware of my filmmaking career, know that for my entire adult life, I’ve advocated for Filipino Americans to be more visible in the media. Ever since I came out, I’ve felt even more invisible—only around my own people. I realize their reaction may be due in part to the subject matter of my debut novel, Chasing Pacquiao. I get it. Filipinos have idolized Manny Pacquiao for the past two decades for his unprecedented success in the ring. He made us feel seen. But when he declared that gay people were “worse than animals,” he made the homophobia that’s accepted in the Filipino community seen as well. Folks don’t like it when you call out the problematic behavior of someone they love to cheer for. It makes them feel like you’re calling them out too for letting that behavior slide.
I’ve always dealt with difficult subject matter in my work, and I’m going to continue to do so as a bi Filipino man. As I wrote before in my essay: “So this is me. Rod Pulido. Brown, bi, and proud.” Even if you refuse to acknowledge me.
