Let our colors shine

By Ray Adrian Macalalag

There was once a young student who grew up being teased, never quite knowing how to tend to himself or how to feel better. He hid his feelings of profound sadness from jokes that cut deep, painfully aware that reacting would only make the situation feel much worse. Consumed by a fear that he might get hurt in the process, he lived in constant denial of things and became deeply introverted. He felt an immense pressure to be successful and be stable just to fight the rigid norms society had built. To survive, he had to make sure he was always in the upper band of things in school: an honor student, securing no failing grades, and remaining constantly active in organizations.

That student was me.

This marks the very first time I am publicly writing about my sexuality. I am taking this step for all the members of the LGBTQIA+ community who have ever felt compelled to shrink themselves to fit into an unforgiving world.

My lifelong fears were built on harsh realities and what was frequently portrayed in mass media. We often see heartbreaking stories of children being kicked out of their homes, bullied in schools and workplaces, discriminated against, and seen as bad luck or completely worthless. These are not merely exaggerated narratives. Data from global labor and human rights organizations consistently reveal that sexual minorities face disproportionate rates of workplace harassment and socioeconomic exclusion. With these sobering facts echoing constantly, there is no wonder why some people continue to hide in their closets, and I certainly do not blame them.

When it came time to build a professional life, I took a supposedly male-dominated field, engineering, because I know what my strengths are. The statistics surrounding diversity in STEM underscore a remarkably challenging environment. Research indicates that professionals in these sectors often experience systemic marginalization, prompting many to remain closeted to protect their careers and professional standing. I intimately understood this dynamic. Despite my qualifications, I always feared rejection from prospective employers or being dismissed by subordinates simply because I am gay.

However, professional accolades and academic metrics cannot compensate for the heavy psychological toll of hiding one’s authentic self. The huge step was to accept who I was and to be brave enough to be who I am. It required dismantling the protective walls built since childhood and realizing that true leadership requires vulnerability. The focus must shift from individual survival to collective inclusion.

Today, I am out and proud and always grateful of my past. I fully embrace the good and the bad because I claimed my space in society, proving that the broader LGBTQIA+ community deserves respect and a space in our collective future.

Authentic structural development requires inclusive environments where every individual can contribute without fear. We belong in engineering firms, in policy meetings, and in every sector of the global economy. True progress is achieved when everyone is empowered to stand tall and be seen.