Would My Voice Matter If It Was Deeper?
Zhian Chloe R. Lopez March 23, 2026
Art by: Daniel Joshua M. Ropero
Zhian Chloe R. Lopez March 23, 2026
Art by: Daniel Joshua M. Ropero
Being the man sometimes feels like the only way to be heard.
I often find myself standing in a room full of people, sharing my thoughts and asking a quiet question in my mind: if I were in the same competition but as a man, would I move ahead faster? Sometimes it feels like the answer is yes. No matter how prepared or capable I may be, being a woman can seem like an invisible weight that slows me down. And that is one of the harsh realities of our society.
Many of us grew up hearing the phrase “Kapag babae, laging tama.” But when will we hear people say, “Kaya rin naman nila”—that women are just as capable? What once sounded like a harmless saying begins to lose its meaning when women are still questioned, doubted, or overlooked.
According to a 2024 report from the Philippine Commission on Women, the Philippines still has a long road ahead in achieving true gender equality. The country recently recorded its lowest score in more than ten years in the World Economic Forum Gender Gap Index. This shows that fairness between men and women is still a race we have yet to finish. In a world that is already imperfect, inequality only pushes everyone further from progress.
The gap is especially visible in politics. As of 2024, only 23.3% of elected officials in the Philippines are women—just over 3,000 women compared to more than 10,000 men in public office. The difference is clear. Even strong female leaders face criticism that their male counterparts rarely receive. For instance, Leni Robredo has often been labeled “bossy” or “pabida,” despite her numerous initiatives and programs that helped communities from Naga City to different parts of the country. Meanwhile, leaders like Bongbong Marcos receive strong support from many followers, even as critics question the visibility of their contributions. These differences in perception reveal how leadership is often judged through a gendered lens.
This reality is not limited to politics. Even in global industries, women experience similar biases. In an interview, Taylor Swift once explained that men and women are often judged using completely different vocabularies. What is praised as strategy in a man is often criticized as manipulation in a woman. Hearing this made me realize that gender bias is not confined to one field—it echoes across industries, cultures, and communities.
Even within schools, the same patterns appear. During class elections or leadership contests in organizations, when a man and a woman compete, popularity may not be the only factor that decides the outcome. Sometimes gender itself quietly becomes the deciding vote.
I have also realized something strange about how society treats women. We dedicate an entire month to celebrate them. Yet outside of that month, many women still struggle to be recognized for their abilities in everyday life. For men, competition is often about who performs better. For women, the challenge is first proving that they deserve to compete at all.
As a student journalist, I believe this mindset is wrong in every field. But as a woman, I sometimes catch myself holding back the voice I once had the courage to share. Doubt becomes louder than confidence, and the question begins to change. It is no longer simply about who gets ahead in a competition—it becomes about whether a woman participating is already seen as a problem.
No matter how strong my voice may be, my words can still be dismissed as weak simply because I am a woman. It is not considered “deep” enough to be taken seriously.
And that is the question that lingers: would my voice matter more if it sounded deeper?