UNPHOTOGRAPHED

Let me tell you about the year 1982.

It was in 1982 when Prince William of Windsor was born. He was touted to be the most photographed baby in the world. I guess nobody knew about that little girl in Caloocan City, Manila, Philippines who was born the same year and who could have given him a run for the money. That little girl was me.

My Mother and Father took enough pictures of me to fill a dozen baby photo albums. It might have been adorable back then to do all those cutesy poses where I’m wearing pink leggings and tutu skirts. But as I grew older, I started to think that, “Wait, this is getting embarrassing!”

You see my parents will ask me to pose anywhere. They’ll ask me to stand in with a bunch of people I do not know; they’ll have me flitting my skirt in the middle of a park where people has nothing else to do but watch you as you’re being photographed. They’ll ask me to pose beside paintings in a museum; hug a tree and smile as if saying “Wow, aren’t we having the darnest good time!”

Then as if that wasn’t enough, they’d send it out to all our relatives with obvious comments written behind the photos. Here’s an example: “This is Olivia, age seven, in front of our microwave oven.”

I’m sorry, but I have to admit it, I grew to hate being photographed. Get any random picture from one of those darn albums taken between the age of 7 – 10 and in all probability, I am not smiling.

But it seems that in my later years, I found out that the camera still has its uses for me. Although I hate being photographed, I realized that I love taking pictures. My favorite subject includes the usual passion for nature scenes. Nowadays though, I find it more interesting to take shots of people oblivious to the camera. Our unguarded expressions can tell so much. And in any given moment, you could have captured something important.

Let me explain further. I’ve come to realize that we all have pictures taken during our birthdays, graduation and perhaps, a wedding. You look at them and people are smiling and trying to look pretty. It doesn’t necessarily mean though that these special occasions have changed anything in the lives of those in the photos. But we are not always so lucky to have a camera ready during the “real” turning points of our lives.

Who in here has a photo that captured their very first kiss? Or maybe a picture of yourself that morning you woke up and realized it’s your first day at work? And how about a picture of that moment when you felt at peace with the world?

If you do have pictures capturing those things, treasure them. These defining moments can happen anytime, anywhere and sometimes in the most inconvenient manner. Suffice to say, they are very rare. But for those of us who aren’t as lucky, we can only relieve these unphotographed moments in our memories.

Today, I choose to introduce myself to the group by choosing three pictures that I never got to take and describe how they have changed my life. I hope that you, my friends, would indulge me.

The first photo I never took that I would like to share with you captures the image of a little girl. She’s in her grade school uniform and she’s standing on a wooden chair so that she could look into the mirror. This particular morning when the picture should have been taken, this little girl woke up early, ate her breakfast and brushed her teeth without much fuss. She asked her Mother to plait her braids more carefully than ever. I heard her say that it’s because today is a special day. The photo I never took was that of her making sure that she looks just perfect for what she’s about to do.

Later that day, the same girl was found making rounds, wearing too many commemorative pins on her uniform while distributing flyers. You see, her sister was running for student council president and she was helping her campaign. You should have seen her. She was bouncing off the walls. Her voice sounded tiny and overexcited as she thrilled, “Think Big, Think Burgos for President!” and she keeps on adding, “She’s my big sister!” Her eyes were shining, wide and big. You’d think she was telling people she was related to the Queen of England.

Seeing her do that reminded me of how she looked earlier that morning, as she painstakingly made sure not a hair was out of place. She was trying to look as neat as she could because of me. She was doing it for me. I felt really lucky to have somebody love me like that. And it dawned on me that I could never love any other mortal on this earth, more than I love this girl. I will do anything for her and my purpose in life must be about taking are of her. This photo taught me that I am a sister. And I’m loving the job.

The second photo I wasn’t able to photograph is a less cheerful one. It’s set in a semi-private hospital ward and it caught me unaware. In this photo, my father slept on the bed nearest the door and my mother, who was also asleep, was slumped on a chair beside the bed, her hands still clutching her rosary beads. My Dad had been hospitalized because of a wound that got infected and wouldn’t heal because of his uncontrolled diabetes. Back then, my Mother was also recuperating from breast cancer. I was eighteen years old and was in second year college. After years of living the easy life, my family was suddenly facing a crisis and I was scared. Heck, I was terrified. That moment, I saw my parents for what they are. They are human. They weren’t omnipotent superheroes. They were fragile too. The world that I knew crumbled.

I stood at the door for a long time. Internally, I tried to come into terms with what I suddenly knew. I began to grasp that as much as I am a sister, I am a daughter too. My parents have had their run; and in the face of doom, they are fighting hard to keep the last vestiges of innocence that my sister and I still have. But that day, I caught them asleep, amidst a room of four other sick strangers, and they would never know that it was there their battle was lost. They would not have guessed that it was also then that I resolved to take up the sword they dropped and fight in their place. As I understand it, it’s my turn now.

The third and last photograph I would like to describe to you is a much more recent one, and this picture is of a boy. He’s seated on a table facing me. His eyes are looking at me with quiet intensity and it’s obvious he wanted to tell me something important. This boy was the one I fell in love with when I was nineteen years old. He was my best friend; we have already shared too many memories for the last six years we’ve known each other. We were so inseparable back then that people mistook us as already having “mutual understanding.” My mistake was, to believe that this may be true. Suffice to say, my love for him was unrequited. And as the years progressed, I grew tired of the whole thing and decided to move on. I made semblances of getting over him – twice. But somehow, something always keeps me coming back to him. Something’s been keeping me stuck!

The day this photo should have been taken, he invited our closest friends to have lunch. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say and I steeled myself for it. I vowed to myself that my face will not betray the shock I would probably feel when he tells us about the girl. That girl whom he has fallen in love with. That girl whom he could be marrying cum June. And that he might ask me to be a bridesmaid. Well, at least that’s how it happens in the movies. I told myself if Julia Roberts did just fine in that movie My Best Friend’s Wedding, I certainly can handle it too, right?

But the world has its way of pulling the rug from underneath your feet. Fate finds a way to out shock your shock. That day, instead of my best friend telling me he’s getting married, my best friend told me he was gay.

So, it turns out I’m no Julia Roberts. I’m Debra Messing from that TV show, Will and Grace. We’re to be the hag and fag duo. Great.

Of course, he was curious about my reaction. He wasn’t satisfied with the fake, plasticene smile I gave him and the inappropriate greeting of “Congratulations!” That’s why the next day, I decided to confess how I felt for him years ago. I also told him that he looked happy and at ease with his newly outed self, and I support him. And in the process of admitting my feelings and my commitment to remain his friend no matter what, I realized the one thing I needed to move on was --- closure. I needed to know why. I needed to know how it ends. And that day, I knew. I got to turn the last page of a chapter, and I’m feeling more confident that this time, I can really move on to the next. I do not regret having fallen in love with him. I learned so much about the human capacity to love and the range of emotions you get exposed to when you love. I believe that I am a better person for having loved that way. And I also learned that it’s time for me to trade in my gaydar with one that actually functions.

So there we have it. These are the photos I never got to take but have definitely changed my life. The first one taught me what to live for, the second one taught me how to live, while the third one taught me how to love.

I’m sure that the future still holds a lot of opportunities for me to make more memories. Some of them I might be able to capture in film and some of them will remain unrecorded.

You might experience the same thing. When that time comes, just remember that the turning points of our lives often catch us unaware. You can keep capturing Kodak moments, of course, and those memories will be precious. But sometimes, we find ourselves in the cusp of a great change and I say, instead of trying to take a picture, try living it instead. Savor it, remember it, don’t let it go. For these are the moments which defines who you are – and these moments almost always remain

unphotographed.