One of the funniest moments that tested my yes dear philosophy was the first time I was called under the saya. It happened during a family gathering where my uncles and cousins were joking around. My wife had asked me to help her carry some plates to the kitchen, and without hesitation I stood up and did it. The moment I sat back down, one of my cousins laughed and said in a teasing voice, “Uy, under the saya ka na pala.” Everyone at the table chuckled, and I could feel my face getting warm.
At first, I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to say that helping my wife was not a sign of weakness, that it was simply a normal part of marriage. But then I looked over at my wife. She was smiling, her eyes twinkling, clearly amused but also touched. I realized in that instant that being called under the saya was not an insult. It was actually a compliment in disguise.
In Filipino culture, under the saya has often been used to describe husbands who follow their wives’ wishes, who adjust for them, who make sacrifices for the sake of peace at home. Some men take offense to it, thinking it makes them less of a man. But I have come to believe the opposite. If being under the saya means my wife is happy, if it means my marriage is peaceful, if it means my children someday will see a father who respects their mother, then I will gladly wear that title.
I laughed along with my cousins that day and told them, “Oo, under the saya ako, and proud of it.” Their laughter grew louder, but this time it was not mocking. It was more like appreciation for my honesty. Deep inside, I felt light. I did not need to prove anything to anyone. What mattered was that my wife knew she could count on me.
Sometimes I even joke about it myself. Whenever my wife makes a decision for us, I grin and say, “Sige na, under the saya ako.” She laughs every time, and in that laughter we find connection. Humor has a way of softening what could be taken as criticism. Instead of letting that phrase wound my pride, I embraced it and made it part of our love story.
Being called under the saya also opened my eyes to something deeper. In Filipino households, women have always carried immense strength. Our mothers and grandmothers were often the silent decision makers, the ones who balanced budgets, managed homes, and kept families together. If men were the heads of the family, women were the hearts. So if being under the saya means respecting the strength of my wife, then it is not a weakness but a recognition of her power.
The longer I am married, the more I see that pride destroys more marriages than poverty or hardship ever could. Pride makes men insist on always being right. Pride makes them think that asking for help is shameful. Pride creates walls instead of bridges. But humility, the kind that comes with saying yes dear or accepting the under the saya label, is what keeps a marriage alive. It shows that love is stronger than ego.
I realized also that being under the saya is not about submission but about partnership. My wife does not control me. We make decisions together. But sometimes, for the sake of peace, I let her lead in areas where she is stronger or more invested. And there are moments when she lets me take the lead too. This balance is what makes us work. It is not about who holds the power but about how we share it.
Looking back now, I see that moment when I was teased as a blessing. It gave me the chance to redefine what manhood means for me. It is not about dominating my wife or proving I am always in charge. It is about protecting her, supporting her, and walking with her as an equal. If other people see that as being under the saya, then I will smile, nod, and agree. Because at the end of the day, the only opinion that truly matters is hers.
And honestly, there is something very endearing about it. The phrase might sound funny, but for me, it became a badge of love. It reminds me that I am not alone in this journey. It reminds me that my wife trusts me enough to share her life with me and expects me to be present not just in big things but in the little ones too. It reminds me that true strength is not in winning arguments but in choosing love over pride.
So now, whenever someone jokes about me being under the saya, I no longer feel embarrassed. Instead, I take it as a gentle reminder of the promise I made to my wife on our wedding day. A promise to honor her, to listen to her, to value her happiness as my own. And honestly, I find it cute. Because if love makes me under the saya, then I am exactly where I want to be.
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