Resilience Is Not a Personality Trait: The Dangerous Myth of Filipino Endurance

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Writer and Researcher: Valerie Rose V. Ferido
Editor: Tobey Calayo
Creatives: Jia, Ian Stephen
Moderator: Richardson Mojica

 

Filipino resilience is often praised, but it also masks systemic neglect. This article, anchored on World Mental Health Day 2025, argues that resilience has become a political smokescreen—used to excuse poor governance, lack of trauma care, and state violence. From earthquakes to protest crackdowns, it explores how Filipinos are forced to be resilient in systems that keep breaking them. Healing, then, must be collective and rooted in accountability.

Filipinos are resilient.”

It’s the line that always makes the evening news—said after a flood, an earthquake, a typhoon, an oil spill, a protest crackdown, or another humanitarian emergency that leaves thousands displaced. We’ve heard it so often that it’s practically folklore: a badge of honor, a national brand.

But somewhere between praise and propaganda, resilience stopped being empowering—and started becoming a convenient excuse.

What if resilience isn’t the virtue we are told it is, but instead a veneer over systemic failure?

When The Headlines Turn to Rubble

On September 30, 2025, a magnitude 6.9 earthquake rocked Northern Cebu, leaving thousands displaced and dozens dead [1]. Amid collapsed buildings and sleepless aftershocks, psychosocial support lines buzzed with calls for help. 

While relief goods and rescue operations filled the front pages, an invisible disaster quietly spread—the emotional and psychological toll on survivors. Hence, psychometricians, mental health professionals, and psychosocial responders were deployed across Northern Cebu to conduct debriefings and offer support to affected communities [2].

This is not unique. Every calamity we survive brings emotional wounds that last longer than broken walls.


When Strength Becomes Survival

Every time disaster hits, Filipinos rebuild. We donate, volunteer, and organize community kitchens. We smile through grief and call it hope. But behind that collective display of strength lies an unconditional truth: we shouldn’t have to be this resilient in the first place.

According to the World Health Organization (2025), exposure to repeated disasters increases the risk of depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), especially in low-income populations [3]. In the Philippines—one of the world’s most disaster-prone countries—those mental health costs are rarely part of the national conversation.

Instead, we romanticize recovery. We frame survival as proof of character, not of systemic neglect and deceit.

 

When Protest Smoke Clears

On September 21, 2025, thousands of Filipinos filled the streets to commemorate the anniversary of Martial Law—only for the protests to end in chaos [4]. Police fired tear gas and rubber bullets at unarmed civilians; several activists were hurt and detained (Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility [CMFR], 2025) [5]. Beyond the physical injuries, the psychological aftermath was severe. 

These are not isolated mental health issues—they are collective psychological injuries rooted in power and repression. To live under authorities that criminalize dissent is to experience chronic psychological distress. For those who continue to resist, civic participation often comes at the expense of mental well-being.

To speak of mental health in humanitarian emergencies is, therefore, to include the streets—to recognize that state violence and political repression are also emergencies of the mind.

 

Healing as a Collective Act

To unlearn toxic resilience, we must start by rejecting the idea that healing is an individual task. Mental health cannot thrive in systems that keep breaking people down.

The 2018 Mental Health Act (Republic Act No. 11036) was a crucial step forward, mandating access to psychological care in hospitals and workplaces. But its implementation remains uneven. Policies must move beyond awareness and into trauma-informed governance—disaster response protocols that prioritize psychosocial aid, community grief spaces, and long-term counseling for survivors.

Because resilience shouldn’t mean “tolerating pain.” It should mean having systems strong enough that people don’t have to.

 

Reimagining the Filipino Spirit

Maybe it’s time to redefine what “Filipino strength” means, not as the ability to endure endless suffering, but as the courage to demand care. 

To move beyond rhetoric and into real recovery, we must reimagine how the state defines care—not as charity, but as duty. The solutions aren’t abstract; they already exist within our policies, our people, and our collective capacity to demand better.

  • Policy beyond platitudes

The Mental Health Act (RA 11036) must be properly implemented during emergencies, with budgets for trauma care in disaster plans and local government contingency funds.

  • Trauma-informed governance

Disaster response must include psychological first aid, on-ground mental health teams, and long-term care—not just tents, food, and shelter.

  • Community-led care

Survivors deserve safe spaces to share, process, and rebuild together. Peer support, local mental health training, and culturally grounded therapy must be cultivated in barangays.

  • Safeguarding dissent and democracy

Mental health support must extend to those affected by political violence—activists, journalists, and civilians who were traumatized. State accountability includes psychological recovery: trauma counseling for victims, protection for witnesses, and psychosocial programs within universities and advocacy spaces because civic engagement should never come at the cost of one’s peace of mind.

 

From Endurance to Empowerment

The myth of Filipino resilience may have helped us survive, but it has also silenced us. It taught us to smile through suffering instead of actively demanding accountability.

But resilience should never replace justice. The same spirit that rebuilds homes after earthquakes should also rebuild trust after tear gas, censorship, and state neglect. 

As we commemorate World Mental Health Day 2025, let’s remember: resilience without reform is not strength—it is surrender. 

True healing will come not from our ability to endure, but from our collective insistence that no one should have to.

 

Session Questions

  1. How has the idea of “resilience” shaped the way you process grief, burnout, or recovery during times of disaster or political unrest?
  2. How does glorifying resilience silence real conversations about trauma?
  3. How can the state move from praising endurance to providing care?

 

 

 

References:

[1] Rappler

October 2, 2025

IN PHOTOS: The aftermath of the magnitude 6.9 earthquake in Cebu. https://www.rappler.com/philippines/visayas/photos-aftermath-cebu-earthquake-october-2025/

 

[2] The Freeman

October 6, 2025

Psychological teams deployed to aid quake survivors in north

https://www.philstar.com/the-freeman/cebu-news/2025/10/06/2477909/psychological-teams-deployed-aid-quake-survivors-north

 

[3] World Health Organization

2025

Mental health in emergencies. https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/mental-health-in-emergencies

 

[4] ABS-CBN News

September 21, 2025. 

Manila Police: 72 arrested due to violent acts during Sept. 21 protests | ABS-CBN News. ABS-CBN. https://www.abs-cbn.com/news/nation/2025/9/21/manila-police-72-arrested-due-to-violent-acts-during-sept-21-protests-2230

 

[5] Center for Media Freedom And Responsibility

September 27, 2025

https://cmfr-phil.org/press-freedom-protection/attacks-and-threats-against-the-media/alerts/journalists-assaulted-obstructed-and-exposed-to-tear-gas-during-september-21-manila-protest/

 

 

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