Have you ever held back from speaking up? Not from shyness, but from a deep worry about what others might think of you, or of your family? For many Filipinos, that feeling has a name: hiya.
Hiya is usually translated as “shame”. As a Filipino psychologist in Wahroonga, I think that word misses a lot. In this post, I explain what hiya really is, what sits underneath it, how it can affect mental health, and culturally grounded ways to move towards healing.
At a glance
- Hiya doesn’t just mean shame. Virgilio Enriquez, the founder of Filipino psychology, saw it as closer to a sense of propriety: knowing how to act with care and respect around others.
- Underneath hiya sit kapwa (the self shared with others) and pakikiramdam (sensing what others feel).
- Because hiya comes from care for others, it can also keep us quiet when we’re struggling.
- Asking for help can be an act of kapwa: care for yourself and the people you love.
Filipino words in this article:
- Hiya · sense of propriety, shame
- Kapwa · shared self
- Pakikiramdam · sensing others’ feelings
- Pamilya · family
- Barkada · friend group
- Mukha · face
- Pagtitiis · endurance
- Pakikipagkuwentuhan · heartfelt storytelling
Hiya doesn’t just mean shame
Western ideas of shame often focus on personal failure. Hiya is more relational. It lives in our connections with family, barkada and community.
Virgilio Enriquez, the founder of Sikolohiyang Pilipino (Filipino Psychology), argued that hiya is better understood as a sense of propriety. It’s knowing how to act with care and respect around other people.[1]
Why the translation matters
Early research on Filipinos was often done through a Western lens. Translated simply as “shame”, hiya was read as a weakness. Enriquez argued that this painted Filipinos as passive and submissive, and missed what sits underneath.[1]
You can still see both views in writing about Filipino mental health. Some describe hiya mainly as a form of social control, tied to embarrassment. Others describe it as the wish to represent yourself and your family in the most honourable way you can.[2] Most of us would recognise both.
- Protecting pamilya. We can feel hiya on behalf of our whole family. That brings pressure to avoid anything that might “bring shame” to the family name.
- Deference and respect. Hiya can look like politeness. We may not disagree with elders, teachers or people in authority, even when something feels wrong.
When hiya helps
It builds respect, harmony and care for other people’s feelings. It keeps families and communities close.
When hiya weighs heavy
It can silence honest feelings, hide struggles, and make asking for help feel impossible.
What sits underneath hiya
For Enriquez, hiya is a surface value. It’s what other people can see. Underneath it are two deeper Filipino values that give it meaning.[1]
- On the surfaceHiyaA sense of propriety. How we show care and respect in front of others.
- In the middlePakikiramdamSensing what others feel, often before anyone says a word. It’s how we know what’s proper in the moment.
- At the coreKapwaThe self shared with others. You and I aren’t separate, so how I act touches you too.
Seen this way, hiya isn’t a flaw. It grows from deep care for the people around us. That care is worth keeping. It just needs to include you, too.
The hidden weight of hiya on mental health
Because hiya comes from care for others, it can keep us quiet. Worrying about what’s proper can make it hard to share struggles outside the family, like neurodivergence or past hurts.
Research backs this up. In a large survey of more than 2,000 Filipino Americans, only 3% had sought help from a mental health professional for emotional problems. More turned to family and friends (17%) or folk healers (4%). People with more concern about losing face were less likely to seek professional help, and more likely to lean on informal support. That link was stronger for people who spoke only a Filipino language.[3]
Reviews of research with Filipinos in the Philippines and overseas show the same pattern. Stigma and worry about losing face are major barriers, and a professional is often a last resort.[4][5]
Silence and stigma
Fear of hiya can stop people admitting they’re struggling with anxiety, low mood or stress. Help can feel like weakness, or an embarrassment for the family.
Waiting too long
Talking to an “outsider” about family matters can feel like a breach of privacy. So people often wait until things are very hard.
Carrying it alone
Keeping mukha (face) and showing pagtitiis can mean pushing feelings down. Stress may then show up in the body, as headaches, poor sleep or tiredness.
Misreading what’s going on
Struggles may be seen as moodiness, weakness, or something to pray through. Faith can be a real comfort. Mental health support can sit alongside it.
Between two worlds
Filipino families often migrate in stages, so parents, children and grandparents can be at different points between two cultures.[6] What feels proper to one generation can feel different to the next. Neither is wrong. It’s the same care, said in different ways.
Hiya and neurodivergence
For ADHD and autistic Filipinos, hiya can add another layer. Many learn to mask: hiding their traits to fit in and avoid bringing shame. Over time, masking can be exhausting. Read more in More Than Pasaway: ADHD through a Filipino lens.
Paths to healing that honour our culture
Healing from hiya doesn’t mean leaving your culture behind. It means letting your values care for you, too.
There’s hope in the research. In one small study, 9 of 12 Filipino American adults named “saving face” as the biggest barrier in their community. Yet the people who knew what counselling involved felt positive about it, and most who went said it met their expectations. The author suggested that a lack of information may be as big a barrier as stigma.[2]
- Redefine strength. Pagtitiis is a real strength. So is saying “I’m not okay” and asking for support.
- Try pakikipagkuwentuhan. Start with one safe person: a trusted relative, friend or faith leader. Being heard with kindness can lift a heavy load.
- Turn pakikiramdam inward. You may be skilled at sensing what others need. Try using that same care to notice what you need.
- Remember that asking for help can be an act of kapwa. Kapwa is about care, not only fitting in. When you’re well, the people you love benefit too.
- See professional help as empowerment. Therapy is confidential. It’s a space to understand hiya, not to be judged for it.
Gentle questions to sit with
- Whose voice do I hear when I feel hiya?
- If I turned my pakikiramdam towards myself, what would I notice?
- What would I say to a friend carrying what I’m carrying?
- Who is one safe person I could talk to this week?
How Psychcare can help
- A Filipino psychologist who understands. I know hiya, kapwa and family expectations from the inside, so you don’t have to explain everything. Meet MJ.
- Filipino words and phrases are welcome. Sessions are in English. I understand Filipino and speak it conversationally, so you’re welcome to use Filipino words and phrases whenever they feel more natural. Some feelings are easier to say in the language you grew up with.
- Confidential, non-judgmental therapy. We use approaches such as CBT, ACT and EMDR therapy, shaped around your culture and values. Learn more about our therapy and support.
- Room for family. Where it helps, we can include parents or other family members to build shared understanding across generations.
- Neuro-affirming care. If you wonder whether ADHD or autism is part of your story, see our ADHD & Autism Assessments.
Sessions are available at our Wahroonga clinic or by telehealth anywhere in Australia. You may be able to claim a Medicare rebate with a Mental Health Treatment Plan from your GP.
More support for Filipino and multicultural communities
In NSW
The Transcultural Mental Health Line on 1800 648 911 offers free, confidential phone support for people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds. It runs 9am to 4:30pm, Monday to Friday.[7]
Australia-wide
Embrace Multicultural Mental Health, run by Mental Health Australia, shares translated mental health information and links to services.[8] Visit embracementalhealth.org.au.
Keep reading
Ready to take the first step?
You don’t have to carry hiya alone. Book online, call us, or start with a free, confidential 15-minute chat.
(02) 9037 3509Suite 4 & 5, 5 Redleaf Avenue, Wahroonga NSW 2076. Telehealth Australia-wide. Psychcare is not an emergency service. If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call 000 or contact Lifeline on 13 11 14.
Sources
- Pe-Pua, R., & Protacio-Marcelino, E. (2000). Sikolohiyang Pilipino (Filipino psychology): A legacy of Virgilio G. Enriquez. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, 3(1).
- Camorongan, M. D. (2007). Factors affecting help-seeking behaviors for mental health services among Filipino Americans [Master’s thesis, Smith College]. Includes a summary of how hiya is described in earlier writing.
- Gong, F., Gage, S. L., & Tacata, L. A. (2003). Helpseeking behavior among Filipino Americans: A cultural analysis of face and language. Journal of Community Psychology, 31(5), 469–488.
- Tuliao, A. P. (2014). Mental health help seeking among Filipinos: a review of the literature. Asia Pacific Journal of Counselling and Psychotherapy, 5(2).
- Martinez, A. B., et al. (2020). Filipino help-seeking for mental health problems and associated barriers and facilitators: a systematic review. Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology.
- Tompar-Tiu, A., & Sustento-Seneriches, J. (1995). Depression and other mental health issues: The Filipino American experience. Jossey-Bass. Reviewed by Westermeyer, J. (1996), International Migration Review, 30(1), 341–342.
- NSW Government. Transcultural Mental Health Line.
- Mental Health Australia. Embrace Multicultural Mental Health.
This article is general information, not personal clinical advice.