A simple trip to the restroom in Iloilo turned complicated when a transgender woman was stopped at Marymart. In seconds, a simple trip to the restroom turned into a viral flashpoint. Phones came out, videos spread, and netizens quickly chose sides. Soon the age-old question was back on the table: whose rights come first—transgender Filipinos longing for recognition, or women worried about their comfort and safety?

Marymart, one of the city’s classic and well-loved malls, suddenly found itself painted as the unlikely center of a national debate. The guard and janitress were branded online as intolerant, though they insist they were simply following rules. On the other hand, the transwoman involved spoke of humiliation—an experience no one should dismiss. The clash revealed a larger truth: while laws exist to protect LGBTQIA+ rights, our culture, training, and facilities have yet to fully catch up.

We have been here before. Gretchen Diez’s case in Farmers Plaza Mall in Quezon City back in August 2019 pushed the SOGIE Equality Bill into the spotlight, but years later, the same tensions keep surfacing—inside an office building in Quezon City in June 2023, a hostel in Legazpi City in May 2024, and even at Isla Reta Beach Resort in Davao del Norte just this February 2025. The pattern shows us something clear: policies alone are not enough. A restroom sign can be changed overnight, but people’s comfort and acceptance take much longer. A 2023 SWS survey revealed most Filipinos favor anti-discrimination, yet few truly understand gender fluidity. That misunderstanding is where conflict begins.

The truth is, everyone enters a restroom with their own worries. Women fear for safety. Parents worry for their children. Trans individuals worry about ridicule. Guards, often underpaid and untrained for such situations, worry about making the wrong call. In Marymart’s case, the janitress may have thought she was protecting other women, but her dutiful intention became discrimination. It is easy to blame her, harder to admit she was caught off guard for a situation society itself has not resolved.

Rights often bump into one another. Parents quickly asked, “What about our daughters?” Their worry may not rest on robust empirical evidence, but it is real to them. Brushing such concerns aside as ignorance, instead of recognizing the care or anxiety behind them, only deepens divides. As gender scholars remind us, equality thrives not on silencing one group but on balancing rights through empathy and dialogue.

There are ways forward. Iloilo Science and Technology University (ISATU) and the Philippine Ports Authority (PPA) have started offering gender-neutral restrooms. For Marymart, one of Iloilo’s most trusted malls, the incident has become a lesson worth acting on. Its management has committed to rolling out staff sensitivity training, a move that shows responsibility and a genuine desire to serve all customers better. These are small but important steps. Many lawmakers have already suggested similar facilities and trainings in government offices, a compromise that acknowledges the need for space and safety. It may take time and resources, but these steps show that change happens when people choose to meet halfway.

The LGBTQIA+ movement has been doing just that—seen in rainbow flags flying high during Iloilo’s pride parades, the increasing presence of LGBTQIA+ characters in teleseryes we watch at night, and the small but steady efforts of schools to create safer, kinder spaces for students. But advocacy also needs strategy. Push too fast, and allies turn hesitant. Assert rights without preparing structures, and resistance hardens. Even within the community, some admit that confrontations can backfire, losing more supporters than they gain. Courage matters, but it must be tempered with patience, openness, understanding, the ability to compromise, and a tactical way of moving the cause forward.

This is why conversation matters. Imagine if the guard had calmly explained the mall’s policy while helping the transwoman raise her concern with management. Or if the transwoman, instead of filming in anger, had first asked whether there were plans for all-gender facilities. Neither scenario erases the pain, but both could have reframed the conflict into dialogue rather than a showdown.

Filipinos know how to live with differences. We eat at fiestas with relatives who disagree on politics, religion, or even which dessert to serve. The value of pakikipagkapwa—seeing others’ dignity—is already part of us. The Marymart clash should be seen less as a battle of rights, more as a breakdown of conversation. Listening could have built a bridge where anger built a wall.

Still, institutions must step up. Businesses cannot wait for ordinances alone. Inclusivity training, clear protocols, and practical infrastructure matter. In truth, Marymart has long been known as a friendly mall where generations of Ilonggos shop and gather. That reputation for community care is something it can build on by embracing inclusivity, because respect is not only humane—it is also good business.

Change, however, takes time. Women’s suffrage took decades. Workers’ rights were won through patience and struggle. Inclusivity will not be different. The danger is letting anger harden divisions before real bridges are built. The cause must bring people closer, not drive them away. Progress is not only about urgency but about what people can truly live with.

Bathrooms may be the battleground today, but the greater issue is dignity in ordinary life—how we treat others, how we raise children, how we make fair rules, how we learn to meet halfway, how we share space with respect, how we find the common good. The Marymart case, though difficult, can be more than just another controversy. It can be a mirror. It asks us: how do we want to live together when differences are not exceptions, but part of the norm? The answer will not come from signs or ordinances alone, but from conversations we choose to have—patiently, respectfully, inclusively, every single day.