Straightforwardly, home is defined as ‘the place where one lives.’ A more detailed definition is, ‘a place where one lives permanently, as a member of a family or household.’  More often than not, home is very inextricably tied to family in Filipino American families, which can comprise of clusters of strong-willed folks rooted in an obligation of togetherness. ‘Home’ being where one’s nanay and tatay or lola and lolo are, even long after you moved out of your childhood home. This relationship can be helpful; it provides youth’s with a safety net knowing that no matter how far they go, they can always return ‘home.’

However, family, or rather, blood relations are held above all else that sometimes boundaries are sacrificed for this facade of a happy, loving family. 

While I was not taught this term explicitly, my family has an inherent understanding and acceptance of utang na loob. Which means “a debt of one’s self.” It is also defined as a ‘bind’ that ties a person to another. This ‘another’ is a ‘benefactor’, one who supposedly provides so great a favor that the recipient carries this utang na loob in the hopes of eventually repaying the aforementioned individual. This debt is expected to be lifelong.

This expectation of return can be an overwhelming burden, especially when things such as student debt looms treacherously over the heads of others and obtaining a place to one’s self seems so out of reach with climbing housing prices. These are but a few factors that may force one to remain in their parents’ home much longer than intended. It’s easy to say, if it’s so bad, why not leave, but survival supersedes comfort. So, what can you do when your love and respect is manipulated? Do we meet it with forced gratitude? Children instead become pawns, a way for parents to elevate themselves, entitled to their successes yet wanting no responsibility for their failure.

Storge is a Greek word referring to natural or instinctual affection, such as a love between a parent and child. Does storge often include an eternal expectation? If there is love between a parent and a child, shouldn’t that love be unconditional? 

Ever since I was a child, my mother expected me to become a nurse like herself. She sacrificed so much to establish a career for herself in the States, and she wanted the same career path for me. When I decided to assert my own wants and desires for my future, I became a bad daughter. I wanted to write and draw and pursue a career involving either. My mother and I both revel in the concrete, in the assured. But, this is one thing, I ultimately could not deny myself. Doing something I loved was more important to me than financial security. With this decision, I was betraying her and all that she had done to create a comfortable home for my siblings and I. But why aren’t my dreams worthy enough of support?

For years, I agonized over impressing and earning my mother’s love and support, at the risk of pursuing something I was not interested in for myself. I took chemistry and anatomy classes, thinking that I would become a nurse like my parents. My grades slipped, and I did not feel like myself. I was conflicted with understanding my privilege and ultimately respecting my mom no matter what. But is it at the cost of my happiness? Now that I’m in my mid-twenties, I realize the wasted time wasn’t in choosing myself over her expectations of me, but the wasted time of bending over backwards to please her. 

While I can’t change the expectations my parents have for me, I have now changed the expectations I have of them. As we’re unable to choose the families into which we’re born, we can’t always choose the ways in which people love us. However, it’s important to assert that we can choose those we regard as family.

I’m lucky to have a best friend of eleven years, who provides comfort and understanding. I’ve found friendship with the online literary community, with people I’ve never met in person, yet trust with my true self. I love my mother, I will always love my mother. But I am deserving of love, too. Love isn’t a debt to be repaid.  Family isn’t necessarily those who are blood-related, but rather, those who you decide are worthy of you. Home is wherever you may find this unconditional love.

Home is where you are welcome, wherever and with whomever that may be.

Keana Águila Labra (she/her) is an INFJ, bisexual Virgo who resides in the San Francisco Bay Area. She examines literature & media through a cultural and feminist lens with poetry, prose, articles, and CNF essays. Knowing the importance of representation, her work is evidence that Filipinx Americans are present in the literary world. Her book reviews may be found on Medium: @keanalabra.

This article was edited by EIC Kailah Figueroa

Copyedited by Tah Ai Jia