Women’s bodies are none of our business
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
In one of the first scenes from Antoinette Jadaone’s 2024 film Sunshine, the titular protagonist is seen purchasing a pregnancy test from her neighborhood pharmacy. The woman at the counter wastes no time lecturing her, even going as far as saying that she’s a disgrace to her family – when Sunshine just said she was buying it as a favor for a friend.
It’s far from the most chilling, compelling sequence in the movie, but I bring it up as one example of how we comment on women’s bodies and meddle in their business. We can see it in social media users’ response to content creator Bea Borres’ early pregnancy and her decision to raise her baby alone, as well as Xian Gaza’s empty threats to expose girl group BINI’s sex lives; and in the twisted pleasure people get from sharing public figures’ private moments – from Katrina Halili to Andrea Brilliantes.
For a society that shames women’s sexuality, we can’t seem to stop feasting on it. The hypocrisy, the lack of moral ascendancy, is astounding… but it’s also nothing new.
Yet another product of colonization is the Catholic teachings that mold the ideal woman in the image of the Virgin Mary. We must be endowed in purity, untainted by sin. “Meanwhile, Filipino men are raised in a culture where sexual conquests are equated with masculinity,” Dr. Margarita Acosta, an educator with research interests in gender studies and feminism, tells PhilSTAR L!fe. “The idea of a real man is one that’s promiscuous and naturally inclined to have several partners.”
Our sexuality, however, must only exist for male pleasure. For instance, within the context of marriage, Filipino women are expected to keep the relationship intact by her patience, virtues, and submission to her husband’s desires. Her needs, on the other hand, fade into the background. It’s why sexualization in the media or voyeurism by way of sex scandal is largely accepted in society: female characters are dolled up or dressed down for a predominantly male audience, and the way they’re perceived as a result falls largely out of their control.
Unfortunately, we can be both victims and perpetrators of slut-shaming. We hurl insults towards those we perceive as potential competitors for romantic prospects or disruptors of conservative norms, all under the guise of morality. By doing so, we set ourselves apart (read: we’re just not like other girls!) and promote our own interests. “I feel crab mentality comes into play here, as well: we hate to see a successful woman, because she seems to have such a perfect life. There must be something about her that we can pick apart,” Bianca Pabotoy, gender and peace consultant, tells L!fe.
Following this line of thinking, you can just imagine how intimidating a woman becomes when she takes control of her own body and acts according to her own desires. Suddenly, she is seen as a deviant—and what better way to punish her than to expose her wrongdoings? Now, everyone can call this grown woman what she is: a whore.
What starts as needless nitpicking, however, can escalate into real harm. Cybermisogyny, for one, is a documented phenomenon especially within political circles, where “contemptible language and lies” are used to “silence women who raise their voices, to put them ‘back in their place’.” We may recall how former president Duterte wielded this weapon throughout his term, or how former vice president Leni Robredo’s daughters once fell victim to fabricated sex tapes online.
All of this boils down to the need to maintain social order, to preserve men’s source of power—because if they cannot shame women into subservience anymore, what hold will they have on us?
This isn’t to say, of course, that I encourage reckless behaviors. At the end of the day, people like Sunshine may have benefited from better sexual education and a wider variety of options. What I mean to say is that we are capable of having such conversations without resorting to displays of superiority.
“This starts with learning to speak openly about sexuality. Maybe learning that our colonial history as well as our upbringing influences how we judge women [...] as well as encouraging healthy sex education will prevent harm and promote dignity,” Acosta suggests.
Pabotoy takes this one step further, calling us to break free from what she calls “hegemonic lenses of masculinity and femininity”: “Our prevailing versions of what a man or what a woman should be are responsible for perpetuating feelings of glory and shame, in these discussions of sex and power. This is something we should learn, and unlearn, on a societal level.”
Personally, we can take one step forward with just a small gesture on our part: minding our business. Accepting that our Facebook comments or lengthy YouTube exposes will not retract their decisions, but only contribute to a culture of violence against women. We don’t have a say in what a grown woman chooses to do. Her worth does not rely on her adherence to archaic social norms; nor does she require any outsider’s permission before participating in any act.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.
