(Originally published at WriteforACause.Org)
Cosplay is the shortened term for “costume play.” A cosplay event then is a gathering where anime lovers, fanatics, and cosplayers engage together for fun and activities. It’s an event where colored wigs are worn everywhere. Youths wear gigantic costumes and weapons, and each of them are portraying the anime character of their choice. Some years ago, I was one of those youths. A cosplayer.
I was an anime freak, err, fanatic. I think I can categorize myself as “otaku” way back before. I really loved watching cosplays. Honestly, my friend and I used to watch cosplay events every now and then. When I was a freshman in college, I joined an anime club at my university. I used to attend our club meetings and participate in our team buildings.
And sometimes, when there was a cosplay event happening in the mall, all of us in the anime club, organized by our Club President, would go together in that cosplay event. I remember back then that we rented a jeepney just to cater all of us.
Every time I went to a cosplay event, I used to wear clothes that would reflect the event. My friends used to tell me, “Are you cosplaying, too?” That’s how fanatic I was, to a point that I wanted to be like them—the animes or the cosplayers. We would watch the event together, and we would sit together, shouting and giggling every time we see a favorite cosplayer.
Then I came to a point in my life that I wasn’t just watching the event. I was PART of the cosplay event! I cosplayed. My friend (I call her Tine) was very supportive of me and she helped me from start to finish. To both of us, it was a breakthrough that I would do the costume playing. In fact, I wasn’t just going to walk around to flaunt my costume, but I actually joined the contest. I had my own acting script and I went on stage—in front of many judges and people whom I don’t know. I walked on stage with the demeanor of a man, with the grace of a noble, and bearing with me the arrogant yet sophisticated act. I even threw a red rose to the audience at the final scene and I heard everyone shouting and giggling—but to the present me, I find it disturbing (insert sighing here).
On that day I wasn’t myself, I was somebody else. I wasn’t a woman, I was a man. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t me, that I was portraying the character which people loved, and therefore, I should satisfy their desire to look at me as if I was really that anime character, and then completely abandon my own. I thought it was alright, that it wouldn’t offend God. Why would God be offended? I couldn’t understand why He would. Because as long as I didn’t hurt anyone, I’m good. We’re good. But I was wrong.
Why is God offended?