The Healer and the Butch

To some, it may sound like a fantasy narrative of dragons and dungeons. In reality, it is the kind of story we rarely catch — a narrative hidden like a voice no one wants to hear, or a shattered mirror no one wants to see.

The age of myths and mysticism is slowly fading; it has now become a mere question of faith. But our focus lies elsewhere: on the story of the healers, in Filipino culture, known to some as babaylans. These figures did not just specialize in herbal medicine; they served their communities with every ounce of their expertise. In today’s era, they exist in the bodies of all women — be they sisters, friends, or mothers — who refuse to be broken or shaped into something they are not.

Being a mother is a tough commitment for any woman. How much more so for one who is a public servant? For Forester Gloria M. Flores, the chief of the Conservation and Development Division at the Department of Environment and Natural Resources Region VI, it is more than a job — it is a lifestyle.

Mrs. Flores believes that her child’s perfection measures a mother’s success. Her philosophy stems from the conviction that a mother does not just raise children; she must raise trophies — the “model child.”

Indeed, Mrs. Flores raised not one, but three sons. Her sons embody academic excellence and are blessed with a constant stream of achievements. With a marine geophysicist, theoretical physicist, and AI computer engineer already in the fold, what else could she wish for?

Well, she sought to raise a fourth, wishing for the same success. But expectations and reality are often strangers. And as they say, when reality finally hits, it hits hard.

She forced her daughter to be one of her sons, and that hurt her more than anything. Still, as time went on, the distance and silence between them grew, masked by a false identity meant to please a mother: longer hair, a modest personality, the act of being a perfectly honed princess, all because she saw how her mother suffered through it. As her mother, she instinctively felt something was off, and that made her look for answers.

“When my daughter was battling with her mind at such a young age, my religion became my go-to defense mechanism. I wanted that miracle so bad that I wouldn’t have to deal with both her depression and her queerness, that I wanted her to be ‘cured,’ as if it’s a demon that needs salvation,” Mrs. Flores said during her talk at the Gender and Development (GAD) forum at DENR Region VI.

“That is where I was wrong. I would have wished for a rabbit hole to escape the reality of my life. But bipolar disorder is not a demon. Having a butch daughter is not a sin. Rather, it is a human reality. My own reality,” she ended.

Mrs. Gloria Flores didn’t need a miracle to change her daughter; she needed a revolution to change herself. By dismantling her own definitions of “perfection,” she stepped into the role of the true healer. She became the sanctuary her daughter needed by first healing the image that kept them apart. She ousted herself from the comfort of lies and embraced the truth of acceptance and love. (DENR-6)