By: Natalie May G. Sioco
Her first act of coming out was not across the dinner table, but across the internet. For Kathy Finney, a recent Psychology graduate of 2026 from Silliman University (SU), social media became the place where her truth emerged and where every post became another gentle step toward living openly and unapologetically.
Finney recently went viral after sharing a graduation in commencement of Pride month. In the video, she was seen waving her transgender flag as she walks’ across the stage.
The moment she unfurled the flag before an audience of graduates, faculty members, families, and guests, it would later circulate online, drawing thousands of reactions during Pride Month.
It was as if a rainbow had appeared. People failed to see the storm that came before it. Instead, they saw only the most visible part of a much longer journey.
Beyond what the camera captured and what the internet chose to share, there was a life that could not be contained by fabric alone.
Four years before the internet would come to see the greatest feat of Finney accepting who she truly was, she was far more occupied with a quieter struggle—an itch for a change that stretched far beyond what Finney felt.
“I spent the entirety of my college life trying to find who I truly was, it was hard trying to find where I fit and so I spent my years in college trying to express my sexuality,” she recalled.
While her batchmates would scamper around deadlines and examinations, Finney carried a heavier burden that grew increasingly difficult to ignore. Academics and identity became entangled in a tight whirlwind of superficial comprehension—where it was often acted out rather than truly felt.
Perhaps what made the struggle more striking was where it took place.
The irony lay in how Finney studied Psychology, or better known as the study of the human brain, while still proactively attempting to decipher her own—yet understanding mind did not necessarily make knowing herself any better.
There were moments before where she did not get a tight grip on herself.
“Sometimes I felt androgynous, but that didn’t even feel quite right too. Then later on, I would feel like a man, but at the same time, it didn’t really hit where I thought it would be perfect. At some point, I even convinced myself that I was gender fluid, yet still, I knew it was much more than that,” Finney said.
Then, as she navigated through the process of becoming something she wanted to be, homophobia somehow found its way and began to creep in—where she faced discrimination for the identity she was still discovering.
“I was just taking a local tricycle, and as we stopped at a traffic light, a beggar came asking for money. While I wanted to, I just didn’t have money on me. The moment I rejected him, he repeatedly called me ‘bayot!’ and I just sat there not knowing what to do,” Finney shared.
If it was others’ prejudice that first taught Finney who she was not, then so be it. Because along the way, it was classmates and friends she found throughout college who reminded her of the identity she was allowed to embrace and become.
Here, Finney learned resilience and slowly found the courage to fight for herself.
Eventually, growth also formed in other places, through shows such as RuPaul’s Drag Race, she learned to dress her identity as authentic as possible, rather than hiding behind a facade while yearning to be something else.
And because of all the strength she drew from her experiences and from the role models she looked up to, Finney hoped to become that same source of hope for others still navigating the struggles she once faced.
But it seems that it is not the case for others how Finney’s silent celebration of herself is a threat.
Commentators took it upon themselves to flood Facebook platforms with unsolicited opinions, because while some saw Finney’s public act of acceptance, others saw it as an invitation to hate.
But once again, they had overlooked her again, as the video was never meant as disruption but a declaration—something neither fleeting nor bound to disappear once the comments died down.
All because she is saying that she lives by: “In life, in order to grow flowers, you need dirt. And if people love throwing dirt towards you so much, then take it and build a garden of flowers.”
For someone who spent so long searching for where she belonged, she eventually found her answer.
To Kathy Finney, the flag marked neither a beginning nor an ending. It represented a point along a journey that had already stretched across years, one shaped by uncertainty, support, resilience, and self-discovery.
The rainbow people celebrated was visible only for a moment.
The rain that came before it lasted much longer.
