The Things I Learned About Maratabat, Utang na Loob, and Pleasing Everyone
Growing up in a Maranao community, there are words I often hear that carry so much weight-Maratabat, Tadum (Utang na Loob), and Rata a Ginawa. These are values deeply embedded in our culture, and for many people, they help strengthen family ties and community relationships.
But as I grew older, I realized that every value has two sides. The same thing that can unite people can also become something that pressures them.
Take Maratabat, for example.
At its best, maratabat teaches us to stand up for our family, defend those who are vulnerable, and never abandon our loved ones during difficult times. It reminds us that we are connected to one another.
But sometimes, when pride takes over wisdom, maratabat can become destructive. Instead of seeking justice, people seek revenge. Instead of healing, wounds become deeper. What was meant to protect relationships can end up destroying them.
Then there's Tadum or what many would call utang na loob.
Being grateful is beautiful. Appreciating people who helped you is something worth keeping. But gratitude loses its meaning when it becomes an obligation forced upon someone. When kindness comes with expectations, it no longer feels like kindness it feels like debt.
I've seen people exhaust themselves trying to repay every favor, attend every gathering, respond to every expectation, all because they fear being labeled as someone who has no utang na loob.
And then there is Rata a Ginawa.
The disappointment people feel when you fail to show up, fail to visit, fail to meet expectations. Sometimes it reaches the point where people talk about you, judge you, or distance themselves from you because you couldn't do what they expected.
The problem is that if you spend your whole life trying to avoid disappointing everyone, you eventually disappoint yourself.
You become a people pleaser.
You start making decisions based on what others will say instead of what is right for you. You constantly worry about being rejected, talked about, or left behind. You carry the burden of everyone's expectations while neglecting your own peace.
And the truth is, no matter how much you sacrifice, it will never be enough for everybody.
You can show up for people countless times and still be misunderstood.
You can help others and still be forgotten.
You can give your energy, your time, your loyalty, and still find yourself alone during your hardest battles.
One of the hardest lessons I learned is this:
Not everyone you help will help you back.
Not everyone who benefits from your kindness will appreciate it.
Because true kindness should not be measured by what you receive in return.
If you choose to help someone, do it because it is right. Do it because Allah sees it. Do it because it reflects your character not because you are expecting repayment.
At the same time, don't destroy yourself trying to earn everyone's approval.
You are not required to attend every event.
You are not required to meet every expectation.
You are not required to carry the emotional burden of an entire community.
People may misunderstand you. Some may talk about you. Some may even leave.
The people who genuinely value you will understand your absence, your limitations, and your humanity.
The older I get, the more I realize that peace comes from letting go of the need to be accepted by everyone.
Because at the end of the day, the person who will carry your struggles, face your battles, and live your life is you.
Trust Allah. Do good when you can. Be grateful when others help you. But never lose yourself trying to satisfy expectations that never end.
Sometimes, the greatest freedom is realizing that you don't need everyone's approval to live a meaningful life.
Disclaimer: This reflection is based solely on my personal experiences and observations. Others may have different perspectives, and that's perfectly okay. Every story has another side worth listening to.
