On my femininity, Ol' McDonald and my blog name

"Pollenpiggy"

When I was younger, I was a chubby girl. Then, it was a good thing because having extra pinch-able cheeks scored points from the lolos and lolas. My flabby tummy, for some reason, made other people like me. Plus, being chubby was equated to being cute so there was no problem with that.

But then I had to grow up and I had to learn that thin is beautiful and beautiful is powerful. Because of peer pressure and societal conventions, I unloved the very body I was gifted with. I wasn't open about this to the closest to me and to even myself then, but I was insecure for a lot of reasons.

So of course, being called as "baboy", even as an endearment, stung. It was a little reminder that I was fat and fat wasn't beautiful. And being made to feel not beautiful, unlike everyone else who seemed on auto-pretty mode, hurt because I wanted to accept myself for who I am but "who I am" seemed unacceptable to everyone else.

Initially, when my HS friends called me that, I felt bad though I never told them that. I just kept it in because I didn't really want to cause a riot.

It was in senior year when my view on that nickname changed. I don't remember how it happened but I became a part of the "pig family." Unlike my usual reaction, I was happy to belong in such a group. I had a mama pig, daddy pig, sister pig and pig niece! Basically, we were five people that just called each other "baboy" but treated every member as family.

During that time, I realized that being a pig wasn't so bad especially if there would be people to accept you. In a way, that whole situation was a metaphor. Everyone is a pig with, you know, a little bit of mud. But no matter how dirty or disgusting being a pig is, if someone would take care of you and appreciate you, your pig-ness won't really bug you anymore.

"Baboy" didn't sound like an insult to me since then and answering to it didn't mean demeaning my self worth. It meant that I was accepting my flaws, that I could never be the perfect model of society's standards and that I know that despite my imperfections, someone could invite me into their little pig family and appreciate the me that I sometimes hate.

I named my blog (and my twitter username) as "pollenpiggy" to embrace that I am a pig. I am imperfect but I don't have to live up to the standards of others.

Plus, there's the saying that "when pigs fly" which often implies that something's impossible to happen. I'm that pig, trying to fly when everyone thinks (and says) that I can't. But as "pollenpiggy", I'm telling the world that I won't give up. I want to reach my dreams and achieve the impossible. One day, I will fly.

"Pollenpiggy" is not just a cute jeje name. Now, you know why.