Rising above: Why a daughter is speaking out on abuse, trauma
MANILA, Philippines – Martina Bonoan never imagined that her story would have to unfold in such a public way.
When she and her mother came forward with allegations of domestic abuse against her father, Noel Bonoan, it set off a storm — one that she is still navigating today as a 21-year-old college student and only child. But as challenging as it has been, she has no regrets.
Martina told Rappler why she remains steadfast in speaking out — not just for her own healing, but for others who may see themselves in her story. In her search for peace and quest for accountability, she has also found support and strength.
For years, silence felt like safety
For much of her life, Martina coped with trauma the way many survivors do — by keeping quiet. The memories of growing up in a household of emotional turmoil blurred, and she didn’t realize it until she was of age. Through therapy and conversations over the years, the past became clearer, and her unease with her father started to make sense.
“For both me and my mom, I think the best coping mechanism has been just talking about the events of the abuse,” Martina told Rappler. “There is so much of my childhood that’s been a blur because it’s been muddled with trauma. But talking about it helps me process and, most importantly, remember.”
Martina Bonoan felt compelled to speak up when her father, Emmanuel “Noel” Bonoan, was elected as the incoming president of the Management Association of the Philippines (MAP) for 2025 last December. Alleging domestic abuse, she sought support from women’s rights groups Gabriela and Zero VAWC (Violence Against Women and Children) Alliance, sparking public scrutiny. Amid the controversy, Bonoan stepped down.
It’s been a whirlwind for Martina since everything went public. After she spoke out, her father, in an open letter, denied the financial abuse allegations and stated that he had attempted to reconnect with Martina over the years. He also denied her claims regarding MAP’s handling of abuse allegations.
Martina said being in the public eye and having her trauma scrutinized has been one of the hardest parts. But for her, the hardest part isn’t the scrutiny; it’s coping with the lasting effects of the past and the continuous cycle of drama that continues to unfold.
Painful memories
She shared that in October 2023, while hospitalized for a depressive episode, Martina allegedly overheard a phone conversation between her mother and father discussing her ADHD diagnosis; they were already separated at the time. She recalls how he spoke about her estrangement from him — not as a consequence of his actions but as an act of cruelty on her part.
“He said that the way he copes with the fact that I don’t speak to him anymore is he just tells himself that his daughter is dead,” she recalled. The words stung. “I remember feeling really bad after that call. I cried in my hospital bed. I told my mom I felt like a bad daughter.”
As she sat with the pain, she realized something: “He’d rather think his daughter was dead than acknowledge that she just didn’t want to speak to him.” It was a painful yet defining moment for Martina — it solidified her decision to stop internalizing blame and start reclaiming her narrative.
The experiences Martina witnessed and went through as a child had a lasting emotional impact on her; they shaped how she viewed relationships and self-worth. She recalls one of her earliest memories: standing in the hallway of their condo, watching her parents fight in the bathroom. “I was probably six or something. I just remember seeing him shove her really, really hard — to the point where her back hit the wall and she just slid down,” she says. “It was really scary.”
At that moment, her mother pointed out Martina’s presence, and for a brief second, she saw hesitation in her father’s face. “He realized I was there, and it was like he suddenly woke up from whatever he was in. He just shooed me out of the room.”
As a child, she didn’t have the words to fully understand what she had seen. But she remembers feeling upset. She remembers telling her mother afterward, “Can we get a new daddy that won’t hurt you?”
Beyond the physical violence, Martina’s father also allegedly exercised financial control, even after her parents’ separation. She recalls how, during weekend visits to his house, he would deduct perceived expenses from his child support payments. “Every single time I’d go to his house, he’d take out money for utilities — like, he calculated how much electricity or water I supposedly used and deducted it,” she said. “He’d insist that it was still my home, but at the end of the month, he’d send my mom a note listing the costs she needed to cover.”
While the amounts weren’t significant, Martina felt that her presence came with a price.
Martina said he also allegedly told her, “You should consider stopping therapy. You’re becoming too dependent on it. It’s not healthy to keep relying on it.”
Around the same time, she told him she wanted to start going to his house every other weekend instead of every weekend so she could also spend time with her mom. “Mom said having a routine would help me feel more stable,” she explained, hoping he would understand. She had already told her mom how anxious she felt every time she went to his house and how she wished she didn’t have to go so often. But instead of agreeing, he pushed back. “Routine wouldn’t be good for you,” he said, trying to change her mind.
“Which confused me because I thought maybe he would’ve agreed that a sense of stability would be good for me to have,” Martina said. “I remember thinking that that was a weird way for a parent to comfort themselves about their estranged child.”
As of now, there are no formal charges or legal actions, so these allegations remain unproven in a court of law.
Navigating adulthood and relationships
Looking back, Martina realizes how these tumultuous experiences shaped her understanding of love and relationships. “I think the most disturbing part is that I don’t actively feel anything when I think about these memories,” she admitted. “I know they’re awful, but I feel numb to them. I think that’s how I learned to cope.”
This emotional detachment, she believes, affected how she navigated personal relationships growing up. “I just thought that relationships came with ups and downs, and maybe this kind of behavior was normal. I didn’t realize how much of it was conditioning.”
Dating after trauma has been a complex journey for Martina. While her mother constantly reminds her of red flags to watch out for — “She tries to remind me all the time of things I should be looking out for to protect myself”— it has also made her hyper-aware, sometimes to the point of overanalyzing every interaction.
“I feel like I have a pretty good radar for weird vibes in people just because certain things remind me of certain people,” she said. Trusting people wasn’t necessarily the hardest part for her; rather, it was unlearning the belief that certain harmful behaviors were normal.
“For a long time, I didn’t call it abuse. I thought it was just a thing that would happen, and you just forgive the person when they hit you — or on the off day that they hit you or something like that.”
Fortunately, Martina has never been in an abusive relationship herself, but she acknowledges how growing up in that environment can make someone more vulnerable to unhealthy dynamics.
“It was kind of hard for me to trust people at first. I wouldn’t say it was hard to get into dating. It was harder to, once you’re in it, deconstruct the mindset that certain shit isn’t normal.” However, in her case, the experience has also helped her recognize warning signs early. “I think it did help. It was just in the beginning that messed me up — trying to figure out that it wasn’t normal and understanding why it isn’t something you should tolerate in a relationship.”
In the public eye
What leaves the most bitter taste for Martina isn’t just her father’s refusal to take responsibility — it’s how victims are often the ones left doubting their reality. To make it worse, Martina has faced a mix of support and criticism from the public, with some online strangers calling her ungrateful, a liar, or disrespectful for not trying to protect the reputation of the person who raised her.
But what has helped Martina through the mud is remembering, owning, and standing by her truth.
“I honestly used to feel like I was in the middle a lot, but now I know how I feel,” she said. While she once struggled with the weight of others’ opinions and the pressure to reconcile, she has reached a point where she no longer feels torn.
“Obviously, there are still some days where I feel like a shitty person because I don’t speak to my dad — I get reminded of that a lot,” she admitted. Public scrutiny and misguided takes have only amplified this burden.
“I used to be so mad when people would say stuff like that, but now I realize that no matter what they say, it doesn’t change what happened and how I feel about it,” she explained. Despite facing negative comments, she focuses on the support she receives from other family members, relatives, friends, strangers, and other survivors.
“I try to focus on the messages that say, ‘I’m here for you,’ or ‘You’re not alone.’” Most importantly, she has learned to hold onto her truth, even when others try to discredit it. “Enough people have heard my story, and I stand by it. People will always have their opinions, and that’s okay. But as long as I know it’s true, that’s all that matters to me.”
Above all, Martina is grateful for her close relationship with her mother. In a way, she feels protective over her, which is why she spoke up, and they continue to support each other by maintaining open and honest conversations about their shared experiences.
“We’re close,” Martina said. “We just talk about it — I think like mini therapy sessions, deconstructing the whole thing over and over and over again.” Revisiting the past may be painful, but for them, talking through it has been a way to process and heal together. “Just talking about it, I think, helps,” she added, relishing in the comfort that they’re not alone in their journey.
Call for accountability
For Martina, speaking out isn’t a form of “revenge” — it’s just about accountability.
“I would have respected him more if he had just admitted it and tried to make up for it,” she said. But instead of taking responsibility, he has maintained his stance, she said.
“I’ve never said I’d never forgive him or never have a relationship with him,” she clarified. “It’s just a matter of him doing his part too.” True reconciliation, in her eyes, isn’t about simply moving on — it’s acknowledging the harm done and making amends.
Martina hopes that by sharing her story, more conversations around family trauma and healing can take place. Speaking out isn’t just about her healing — it’s about exposing a toxic cycle that thrives behind closed doors.
“It starts with denial — the denial of things that actually happened, that he and I both know really happened,” she said. Martina believes that acknowledging past wounds is necessary for real change, both within families and in society. And by standing firm in her truth, Martina is making it clear that silence is no longer an option. But at the same time, she said she is leaving the door open for her father — if he chooses to walk through it with honesty, a sincere apology, and accountability, she is willing to listen.
Your voice matters
The journey to healing is long, and as Martina admits, the pain doesn’t simply disappear after speaking out. But silence, she has learned, only reinforces the stigma.
“It’s so easy to feel ashamed in situations like these, and keeping silent only serves to perpetuate that shame. I would encourage victims of abuse to be courageous in facing their experiences head-on together with people who support them,” she said.
“Be brave and speak about your experiences,” she said. “Even if it’s just with one person, having a trusted friend to talk to can make all the difference.” Speaking about it makes one’s truth real.
Martina acknowledges her privilege in having a strong support system, something many victims lack. “I’ve risen above my traumatic experiences precisely because I haven’t done it alone. But I also recognize how lucky I am to have had such a strong outlet of support behind me.”
This is also why she is using her voice to amplify her pain and her journey — in the Philippines, there is an urgent need for safe spaces for VAWC victims, whether through therapy, support groups, or even online communities where survivors can share their experiences without fear of retaliation.
The commonality of abuse within households, she says, is a reality that needs to be confronted—not brushed under the rug.
“Speaking about it to people we trust and who offer their support has been incredibly healing,” Martina shared. At the core of her story is a powerful truth: healing isn’t linear, but speaking up is the first and most important step. Support is there — you just have to be brave enough to ask for it and let it in. And the more we hold perpetrators accountable, the safer we make the world for women and children everywhere. – Rappler.com