Utang na loob, dapat tapusin?: Breaking the walang “utang na loob” mentality

“UTANG NA LOOB,” translated as “debt of gratitude,” is a powerful concept deeply embedded in Filipino cultural values. This principle encourages Filipinos to honor and repay kindnesses, often to family members and mentors, in meaningful and loyal ways. 

But with evolving perspectives on individuality and self-care, particularly among Generation Z, there is a growing conversation about when this cultural norm might cross the line from gratitude to manipulation. 

To some younger Filipinos, this traditional value can be seen as a tool used to pressure or guilt individuals into compliance, raising questions about how “utang na loob” fits into modern Filipino society.

Understanding “utang na loob” and Its cultural significance

“Utang na loob” originates from a deeply rooted cultural respect for reciprocity and loyalty in Filipino society. It reinforces the value of gratitude, teaching people to remember those who have helped them along the way and reciprocate that kindness in some form. 

Family members, mentors, friends, or even employers often receive this “debt,” creating strong bonds within communities and supporting the Filipino ideals of “kapwa” (shared identity) and “bayanihan” (community unity).

Historically, “utang na loob” has served as a foundation for strong family ties, with older generations emphasizing its role in maintaining a sense of respect, duty, and connectedness within the family unit. 

However, practicing psychologist Riyan Portuguez, best known as Your Millenial Psychologist, notes that this respect was traditionally the result of healthy, supportive relationships rather than a strict obligation. 

Portuguez shares, “Dati, hindi siya parang hinahabol, hindi siya forced, isa siyang outcome ng magandang relationship na meron kayo, seeing it as unconditional kumpara ngayon na parang conditional at forced na siya.”

For Gen Zs, growing up in a globalized world that values individuality and mental health, is rethinking how this concept affects their lives.

Many young people feel that “utang na loob” can sometimes become restrictive or even exploitative, especially when used to demand compliance with family or social expectations.

Portuguez emphasizes that when “utang na loob” is imposed as an obligation rather than freely given, it can create psychological distress, especially among younger generations. 

“Kapag long term ‘yung “utang na loob,” na parang habang buhay mo siyang babayaran, ‘yung distress na masyadong matagal ang exposure, minsan nakakapag develop din sila ng iba pang possible na mental health condition,” she explains, adding that prolonged feelings of obligation may even lead to anxiety or depression as young people fear making mistakes or disappointing their families. 

Through Gen Z’s eyes

To better understand Gen Z’s stance, republicasia spoke to several young Filipinos who share diverse insights on how they navigate “utang na loob” in their lives:

Ian Cosicol, 22, an education major, has always appreciated his parents’ support but feels conflicted about the pressure to “return” that support in ways he believes compromise his growth. “Dahil panganay ako, inaasahan akong sasalo ng responsibilidad ng buong pamilya,” he says. 

For Cosicol, “utang na loob” sometimes feels like a leash that ties him to others’ expectations.

“Alam kong kailangan kong tumulong, pero sana hindi sa point na mawawalan ako para sa sarili ko.” He hopes for a shift where he can still show gratitude while pursuing his own path.

Portuguez observes that this “leash effect” is common when utang na loob is communicated poorly, making it feel like a lifelong debt. 

“Hindi natin ito dapat iniimpose parati, hindi ito parang dapat nireremind or binibilangan mo na bawat kilos ay may bilang. Sa ganitong tratment, may pagka negative ‘yung mismong outcome sa mental health ng present day Filipinos.”

Josela Mae Losañez, also 22, shares a similar experience as the eldest daughter of a low-income family. The pressure of being responsible for her family’s needs after she graduates often haunts her at night.

“Wala naman akong magagawa eh, kung hindi ako mag step up in the future, sino?” she shares, highlighting the tension between family obligations and her personal aspirations.

Rowel Dacut, 22, believes that “utang na loob” can sometimes be misused to guilt-trip people into doing things they don’t want to do.

“Someone might remind you of all the nice things they’ve done for you in the past and then expect you to do something for them in return,” he explains.

“It’s not fair, and it can make you feel really stressed and trapped.” 

For Dacut, “utang na loob” isn’t limited to family; it can also extend into friendships, where people may use past favors to gain compliance or loyalty, further complicating relationships.

Though he hasn’t experienced it personally, John Lloyd Aleta, 20, has witnessed this culture play out within his family.

“Utang na loob, para sa akin, dahil may ginawang pabor, o kahit hindi pabor, basta may ginawa para sayo yung isang tao ay obligado ka na ibalik siya with sometimes, double or triple na effort,” he says. 

Reflecting on a family situation, he recalls, “Nagpapasok siya [a family member] sa business, tapos nag-expect siya na yung pinapasok niya doon sa business ay tatratuhin siya na parang santo.”

Cosicol emphasized that while this mentality is deeply ingrained in Filipino values, it should adapt to the ever-changing world. 

“Sa tingin ko, dapat naman talagang may pagpapahalaga tayo sa mga bagay na ginawa ng ibang tao para sa atin pero hindi naman dapat aabot sa punto na masasakal tayo ng utang na loob na ‘yan,” he states, voicing a common sentiment among young Filipinos who seek a balanced approach that respects tradition without compromising personal growth.

The parent’s perspective

Understanding the perspective of Gen Z isn’t complete without hearing from the parents whose sacrifices underlie much of this cultural value. Many parents are aware of the tension but may struggle to reconcile traditional expectations with their children’s new perspectives.

Malou Salvador, 56, a mother of two who grew up with “utang na loob” as an unquestioned value, shares her reflections on watching her children grow up in a more individualistic environment.

“Lumaki akong dapat talagang suklian ng mga anak ang mga ginawa sa kanila ng mga magulang nila nung sila ay bata pa,” she explains. 

“Pero nakikita ko rin kung paano nag-iiba ang mundo kaya okay na lang din sa akin kung yung mga anak ko eh magkaroon ng sariling buhay na hindi na ako kasama.”

While Salvador still believes in the importance of “utang na loob”, she recognizes that her children need space to grow in their own ways. 

“Pinapaalala ko lang lagi sa kanila yung importansya ng respeto. Siyempre gusto ko pa rin silang lumaking may pagpapasalamat sa amin ng papa nila pero gusto ko rin na maging masaya sila sa mga desisyon nila sa buhay.”

Yet not all parents feel the same way. 

Aling Myrna, 62, not her real name, a mother of three, believes it is just fair for children to repay the efforts of their parents as a way to respect them.

“Binuhay mo, dinamitan mo, at pinag-aral mo, natural lang na dapat suklian ka nila nang higit pa ron dahil ginapang mo sila ng buong buhay mo.”

“Bahala na ang mga anak ko sa akin ngayong may mga trabaho na sila. Nararapat lang na alagaan nila ako tulad ng ginawa ko sa kanila noon,” she adds, reflecting a view still held by many Filipinos of her generation.

Looking for balance

Through these conversations, it is clear that many young Filipinos struggle with “utang na loob” as they aim to honor tradition without sacrificing self-determination.

While they don’t wish to abandon the concept, they desire a redefinition—one that respects both their gratitude and autonomy.

Portuguez suggests that one solution lies in reshaping “utang na loob” as an “unconditional, heartfelt expression” rather than a mandatory return. 

She proposes open family discussions to clarify each member’s expectations and foster respect for personal choices. “Respect, communication, fairness, and support talaga ang pinaka-toll para ma-navigate [ang] “utang na loob” nang maayos,” she says, emphasizing that ir should be about honoring each other’s capacity and needs rather than imposing lifelong obligations.

A way forward may involve reshaping “utang na loob” so that it isn’t perceived as a one-sided debt but as a mutual understanding.

This could mean shifting away from “repaying” family or friends through compliance and instead honoring them through open dialogue, empathy, and respect for each other’s dreams.

Some young Filipinos propose family discussions where parents and children can set expectations together, rather than letting “utang na loob” be an unspoken, binding contract.

For example, rather than feeling obligated to fulfill specific roles, Gen Z might aim to demonstrate respect by sharing time with family, offering support in ways that align with their own values, and working toward mutual understanding.

Finding middle ground

Evolving “utang na loob” to align with modern Filipino life involves adjusting how gratitude and loyalty are expressed. The goal, as voiced by both Gen Z and their parents, is not to dismiss this value but to let it adapt to a society that increasingly emphasizes mental health and individuality. 

Parents like Malou Salvador see the need to evolve while still holding onto the essence of “utang na loob”, and many young Filipinos seek to keep gratitude alive, so long as it doesn’t undermine personal fulfillment.

“Utang na loob” does not have to lose its power in a world that values independence; rather, it can become a bridge that respects both tradition and the individuality of each family member. 

Portuguez  advises that families approach “utang na loob” with boundaries to prevent it from feeling transactional. “Importanteng ma-share natin or madescribe natin kung paano nagkakaroon ng impact sa atin yung pinapagawa sa atin.” she explains. 

“Hindi naman ito required na pang habambuhay. dapat may good act of communication like ‘how can we support you,’ ‘di ba? Dapat meron silang ‘paano natin masusuportahan ang isa’t isa.’”

She emphasizes that the healthiest family relationships encourage freedom to pursue one’s goals without feeling bound by obligation.

As Filipino families navigate the shifting interpretations of “utang na loob,” they face an opportunity to preserve tradition while fostering an environment where gratitude feels authentic, not transactional. 

Aleta’s words resonate here: “Kumbaga, wag natin ilagay yung sarili natin sa posisyon na ang lahat ay may equal exchange kasi hindi naman lahat ng bagay ay transactional.” 

True “utang na loob” isn’t about keeping score; it is about nurturing a spirit of generosity and respect that flows freely between generations. However, even within this generosity, there should be boundaries—limits that allow gratitude to coexist with mutual respect. 

In this balance, Filipino families can build a legacy where “utang na loob” is not just an obligation, but a gift that flows from the heart, one generation to the next, carrying both pride in their cultural values and the freedom to follow their own path.

With reports from Mayen Medroso