To Madonna, from your #1 becky

Dear Madonna,

I have been a fan of yours ever since “Confessions on a Dance Floor” came out. That was in 2005 and the beat of “Hung Up” was so catchy, so upbeat that I instantly became a fan. I listened to the rest of the songs and knew that this was a keeper. It was to become one of my favorite albums in your 34-year career.

I got copies of your other stuff until I completed your discography. I read about you, bought your biographies, read your books, watched your films. I was mesmerized by you, partly because of your everchanging looks, but your influence did not stop there. At the time, I was coming to terms with my sexuality and I was wondering about my place in the world. Like all teenagers who realized they were gay, I was afraid of what my family, my friends, and what society would think of me.

The Philippines isn’t exactly the friendliest place for the gay community. It’s an extremely Catholic country and the Church seems to hate us, sometimes going out of its way just to make us feel like scum. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been made to feel guilty about being fabulous, sometimes by people I know and love. I felt like a freak, and not the le freak,

c’est chic kind. I felt that I would go to hell just for liking boys, no matter how hard I tried to be a good Catholic. I was once told that no matter how good a person I was, I would still go to hell. Just because I was gay. I asked if God would prefer a heterosexual killer over a decent homosexual human being and like, all overzealous Catholics, they just said, “Basta.” What a logical argument.

But you didn’t think that way, no. You didn’t believe that being different was worthy of the fires of hell, as one priest said to one of our senators, Miriam Defensor-Santiago. I think you’d like her. You should know, because you were considered an outcast in the ‘80s. You shocked them all by dancing in a revealing wedding dress and singing about keeping your baby. Like us, you were condemned by the Church (and Janet Jackson fans).

You know what it’s like to be judged, to be feared, and to be hated. Many of the gay community look up to you because you made it okay to be strange and be different. You gave everyone who brought you

down the middle finger, never apologizing for who you are or your brand of music. You made me feel normal, like being gay is just a part of me, that it’s just a preference, not a disease. You gave me hope, strength, and a f*ck-you attitude that I maintained with homophobes and narrow-minded people.

Today, I have completely accepted my sexuality. I have fully embraced it and declared it to the world, complete with confetti and glitter. My family and friends accept me, and the people who have a problem with it can take a hike back to the Medieval Ages. Or to a place where carpets and nice interiors don’t exist, which is pretty much the same thing.

This generation’s beckies have their Lady Gaga and I must admit, I like her, too. (Don’t worry, I will always be loyal to you.) Gaga is the new face of the gay community, a title she accepted as soon

as Born This Way came out. But she is not like you. She shook the industry, but you made it. You single-handedly created a scene enjoyed by the likes of Rihanna, Katy, and Gaga herself. You made it acceptable to be weird, to be outrageous, to parade in panties and a cone bra, and sing about peacocks and disco sticks. You were

the first to say it’s okay to stand out, that I am still normal, that I can still be loved. For that, I say thank you.

Coming out is never easy, but I’m glad I got through that pretty quickly. While most boys go through nocturnal emissions and acne, I went through “Who am I, why do I like boys, and would these shoes bring out the color of my eyes?” I’m also happy that the young gay men (and women) of this decade have Gaga to guide them in their teenage angst. Last year, I found a photo from a gay pride march of a poster that said “Lady Gaga accepts me.” But you, Madonna, you must love me.

As we celebrate another Gay Pride Week, I would like to call on my fellow gay brothers and sisters to never be ashamed of themselves, to proclaim that we were born this way, these are our true colors, and that we should always express ourselves. A little shout-out to other gay icons, heh-heh.