There is Queerness in All of Us: A Reclamation of Balance

What if queerness isn’t just an identity some of us carry, but a frequency, a truth, a natural way of being that lives inside us all?

This is a question I’ve been sitting with deeply — not just as a queer Pinay, but as an artist, a mother, a community member, and someone on a lifelong journey of decolonization. I’ve been taught to separate the masculine from the feminine, to define identity in binaries — strong or soft, logical or emotional, dominant or submissive, blue or pink. But the more I return to Indigenous lifeways, the more I realize these divisions are not only false, but harmful. And perhaps most powerfully — they were never ours to begin with.

Colonial Constructs and the Binary Illusion

Let’s be real: the modern gender binary is a colonial construct. Precolonial cultures across the world — including our Indigenous Filipino communities — recognized fluidity. Many had roles for gender-diverse individuals: babaylans, catalonans, asogs, and other spirit-led beings who embodied both masculine and feminine energies. They weren’t marginalized — they were respected as powerful healers, mediators, and artists.

It was the colonizers — Spanish, American, and otherwise — who introduced rigid binaries, reshaping society to reflect their own patriarchal worldview. Gender became a tool of control. As scholar Anne Fausto-Sterling reminds us in Sexing the Body, “Labeling someone a man or a woman is a social decision. We may use scientific knowledge to help us make the decision, but only our beliefs about gender—not science—can define our sex.”

The feminine was reframed as weak, submissive, passive. The masculine became synonymous with strength, leadership, dominance. And from this lens, queerness was pathologized — a deviation from the system rather than a mirror of our wholeness.

Indigenous Knowledge and the Sacred Balance

Before colonialism, many Indigenous cultures centered life around balance. Masculine and feminine energies were not opposites — they were complementary forces that existed within all beings. Health, wellness, and spirituality were understood through this balance. If someone in the community fell ill, it wasn’t just physical — it was energetic, emotional, and spiritual. Rituals were performed to restore balance in the person and the community. There was no shame in imbalance — only the collective effort to make things whole again.

This is echoed in countless traditions across the globe. In Chinese philosophy, Yin and Yang represent feminine and masculine forces — not as opposing binaries, but as interdependent energies. In many Native American cultures, Two-Spirit people were honored as keepers of sacred knowledge precisely because they embodied this balance.

So when I say: there is queerness in all of us, I’m saying it from this place of ancestral remembering. Queerness, to me, is not simply about who we love or how we identify — it’s a return to balance. It’s the freedom to be soft and sturdy, tender and powerful, yielding and strong. It’s about listening to what our soul needs, not what society demands of our body.

Personal Reflection: My Father's Balance

I think about my father a lot when I think of this idea. He was gentle, warm, sensitive. He tended to plants, cooked meals with intention, and made people feel safe in his presence. And yet, his masculine energy grounded our home. His softness was not a contradiction — it was part of his strength. It wasn't about being “feminine” or “masculine.” He simply was. He embodied balance.

And I realize now, that was his queerness — not in sexual identity, but in how he lived beyond the box. His being reminds me that queerness doesn’t always look like a rainbow flag. Sometimes it’s found in the way we hold space, in how we care, in how we exist beyond expectations. And it’s all valid.

Fashion as a Ritual of Reclamation

At Elle Karayan, we design from this very essence — the queerness that lives within all of us. Our silhouettes are not bound by gender, but by expression. Our color stories are not dictated by social codes, but by ancestral memory and artistic rebellion. Every piece — from the Sahaya Barong made of royal inaul, to the Margarita Pants woven with Ga’dang heritage — is an invitation to feel more like yourself.

Because fashion, for us, is not just aesthetic. It’s ritual. It’s armor. It’s language. It's where balance comes alive.

We design for the fluid ones, the firm ones, the fiery ones, the soft-spoken ones — and everyone in between. Our clothes are made to be worn by whoever feels called to wear them. It’s never been about what you are. It’s about how you feel.

Queerness is Not a Trend — It’s Truth

This idea — that there is queerness in all of us — may feel radical, especially when the world profits from binary boxes. But let’s be honest: those boxes weren’t made for us. They were designed to manufacture predictability, compliance, and capitalism.

And yet here we are — refusing. Reimagining. Restoring.

We are remembering that queerness is not a deviation — it is a return to wholeness. It is the place where our mind, body, and spirit can finally be in harmony.

So whether you identify as queer or not, I invite you to explore this: What if queerness is the balance you’ve been searching for?

Maybe it’s not about fitting into a label, but about stepping into your most honest expression — where softness and strength, fire and water, all belong in the same vessel.

As the great writer and activist Audre Lorde said, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” We don’t restore balance by playing by colonial rules. We restore it by remembering who we’ve always been.

And at Elle Karayan, that’s exactly what we’re dressing you for.

May your fashion be your ritual, your body be your canvas, and your queerness — however it shows up — be your power.

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Written with love and layered fabric,
Lydia Querian
Founder & Creative Director, Elle Karayan
Cultural Worker | Dream Weaver | Proudly Queer