There were hardly any other lesbians in the Ateneo-much less a suspected one, like that batchmate whom one of my friends described as, “cute, like a little boy.” It lasted four years, and by the time I was in college, we had both outgrown each other. I just turned 18-a sophomore in college-and the brand new computer was a gift in lieu of a grand debut. Back in high school, I had a relationship with another girl-a surprising twist of events for a goody-two-shoes nerd in a coed school. I was in the Asian Room of the Women’s Floor in what was a website called gay.com. But that night, I decided to be completely honest: “18, F, Pasig.” The chatroom was full it was a Friday night, after all, and most people were ready to stay up late just chatting with strangers.įor those who remember what the early days of the internet was like, being asked this question either prompted you to be honest or answer with your chosen persona for the day. It was almost midnight and the house was still.
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