I’ve always been drawn to the word “pahintulot,” a beautiful Filipino term that stands for asking for permission or consent. It’s a practice that shows respect and consideration for others’ feelings and opinions before you take any action.Whether it’s something small, things like borrowing a book or something more significant, seeking pahintulot means you’re thinking about whether your actions are right or wrong in someone else’s eyes. It’s a powerful way of showing respect and ensuring that what you do is acceptable and welcomed by those around you.
As a typical kid, getting things I wanted from the market or a toy store always meant I had to first get my parents’ consent. Whether to watch TV or to go outside to play with friends, asking for consent was a must. Growing up, I developed a fear of not informing my parents about what I do, even if it was just for a minute or two.
I learned to ask for their consent for everything I do, even for chores inside the house. This upbringing instilled in me the habit of not keeping any secrets from them. Pahintulot has left a profound imprint on my life, influencing me deeply during childhood and continuing to shape my behavior as an adult. Reflecting, I never anticipated outgrowing the habit of seeking consent, even for the smallest decisions. This practice instills a sense of trust, not only in others but also within me. It’s reassuring to know that I am capable of handling situations in a manner that fosters comfort and confidence in those who entrust them to me.
That’s a short story about how I grew up, uplifting myself by making pahintulot a big star of my life.
It had a strong impact on me while growing up, but I guess I seem to forget its value. When I started to hit puberty and was expanding my knowledge as a young teenage girl back then, I tended to forget to ask for pahintulot from my parents when I first punched someone’s nose because they kept calling me names. It may sound funny, but it’s not. I tried to keep it a secret from them up until now.
I forgot to ask for pahintulot when I had my first boyfriend. It was a forbidden move in a typical Filipino family to tell your parents you have a boyfriend until you’re a college graduate. Up until today, they thought of me as having only one boyfriend. They always think of the guys’ names I tell them as suitors, but little do they know, some of them became my lovers.
I did not have the courage to ask for their pahintulot to be vulnerable. At times, I had to handle things on my own because I had no one to be vulnerable to. I tried to hide it whenever they asked if things were okay, when in fact, I knew I couldn’t tell them because I always had this fear that admitting “no, I’m not okay” would be looked down upon.
Maybe it’s not about asking for pahintulot anymore, maybe it’s about saying it straight to their faces because at some point, most of my pahintulot makes me back off from the things that can hugely impact my life.
I didn’t ask for pahintulot not because I was scared of being scolded for what I did, but because I feared my parents would pity me. Those bullies kept telling me that my father was a child born out of wedlock. I didn’t want to see my parents sad, so I kept it to myself.
I didn’t ask for pahintulot not because I was scared of my parents getting mad at me for having my first boyfriend at a young age, but because I was scared of them worrying about all the “what ifs” they had lectured me about that being in a relationship can be like a game—maybe you lose and maybe you win. In my case, I lost. I kept it from my parents that the first guy I loved broke my heart. I’m scared of telling them that I didn’t follow their advice.
I didn’t ask for pahintulot because, for once, I wanted to face it all by myself. I’m too old not to handle things, even the hardest. I’ve tried, but I’m not the strongest soldier. For once, I will not seek pahintulot.
I’ll wholeheartedly face all those challenges. I’m determined to prove to myself that I can overcome any obstacle without relying on permission.
Pahintulot will not always be about a trait for asking for trust, but rather ensuring not only to others but to yourself that asking for consent does not entail asking for it before having it, but rather the power to ask for it and act upon it simultaneously without doubting yourself for handling both at the same time.
We often feel unsure about asking for pahintulot, and even after getting it, we still struggle with uncertainty. Why not both? Maybe it changes you, but it can also help you understand things better.
You’re never too old to ask for permission, and you’re never too young to understand its importance. We deal with these challenges, balancing between seeking approval and taking action. That’s life.
Clarisse Eugenio, 20, is a little tired of life, that’s why she’s bursting it all out through writing.