*The Hands That Never Held Me Back*
My sweating hands. When I was young, people would look at my wet palms and say, “Pasmado imong kamot.” I believed it too. I thought that was the whole explanation, “pasmadong kamay,” period. But growing up with “singtonong kamot or pawising kamay” wasn’t just a label. It was a daily struggle. During elementary exams, I always needed extra paper na ihapin sa akong kamot para dili mabasa ang test paper ug akong answers. When I wore slippers, moslide akong tiil, kabuling-buling akong tsinelas, and sometimes friends would laugh about it. During Mass in church, when it was time to hold hands during the singing of “Our Father,” I would silently panic. I felt awkward, exposed, different. In high school, it became heavier. Insecurity started to grow. I avoided handshakes, holding hands with friends, or anything that required close contact. Same routine during exams, extra papers, panyo, and quiet prayers that nobody would notice and dili mab...