FROM THE moment they can walk, young girls in the Philippines are trained to serve others—a role perpetuated by toxic cycles and upheld by the patriarchy.
It’s washing the dishes while their brothers watch TV, making sure to not go out too much, and holding their tongues when disrespected—just to avoid being told, “Kababae mong tao.” (You’re a woman and yet…)
Growing up with three older brothers, that phrase has latched onto many of my childhood memories. I hear it when I point out that my brothers’ rooms are messier than mine, yet I’m the one who gets scolded. It’s the answer I get when I complain about doing the laundry while they get to play video games.
It’s a phrase often thrown at girls who show defiance, laugh too loudly, or dress in a way that’s not typically “feminine.” It’s a reprimand that doesn’t just correct behavior—it enforces identity, assuming that womanhood is a mold one must fit into, shaped by submissiveness and silence.
Meanwhile, boys are excused. They can speak out, leave the table without clearing their plates and toss their dirty clothes on the floor, knowing someone else will pick these up.
When they’re young, we say “boys will be boys.” When they’re older and emotionally distant, we say “ganyan talaga ang lalaki.” (That’s just how men are.) Excuses pile up, but expectations for boys remain low.
The difference in upbringing creates an unfair imbalance. It forces girls to carry the weight of responsibility, while boys grow up strangers to accountability. It conditions girls to give and boys to take, breeding entitlement among men and exhaustion among women.
The implications are everywhere—in families where daughters take on caregiving roles by default, in relationships where women become like mothers to their partners, and in the workplace where women must work twice as hard to be taken seriously, while men are promoted on potential alone.
To deviate from this perception of femininity is to risk being labeled indecent or bastos—even by those who should understand the struggle more than anyone else.
Yet, true femininity isn’t about weakness or a checklist of domestic skills. It’s about strength, empathy, and intelligence—qualities that shouldn’t be gendered in the first place.
If we truly want a more equitable society, we must raise children—not just the girls—to value these traits. Parents must teach sons to wash their own dishes, speak respectfully, and manage their emotions instead of projecting them. Let their daughters speak boldly, dream loudly, and be more than just helpers in their own homes.
Raising boys and girls the same way doesn’t have to be revolutionary. It just means removing the limits placed on them simply because of gender. Instead of only expecting girls to set the table, we, as a society, must flip the tables—both literally and figuratively. Teach boys to be self-sufficient and let the girls recognize their worth beyond the home.
Only then can we say we’re truly raising equals.
Eloiza is a Communication student expecting to graduate in 2025. With her passion for storytelling, she aspires to use her skills and knowledge to immerse herself in truthful journalism, amplifying the voices and narratives of the marginalized.
Editor’s Note: The views and opinions expressed by the opinion writer do not necessarily state or reflect those of the publication.
