When you date a Filipina, get ready to learn a whole new roster of names — and none of them will be the ones on their birth certificates. Her family members will have repetitive nicknames like Bingbing, Junjun, Girlie, Dada, Baby, or Toto. Sometimes the nickname repeats a syllable, sometimes it’s completely unrelated to their real name. You’ll meet “Tita Baby” who is 58, “Kuya Junjun” who is a full-grown dad, and “Lola Girlie” who definitely runs things. You won’t pick who gets which name. You just learn them, use them, and try not to accidentally call her mom “Bingbing” when her name is actually Tess.
2. You’re getting a nickname too, whether you like it or not.
Don’t think you’ll escape this tradition. Within two family dinners, you’ll stop being “Josh” and become “Jojo,” “Junjun,” or if her Lola really likes you, “Anak.” If you’re lucky, it’s something cute. If her little cousin names you, you might be “Choco” for the next decade because you brought chocolate once. Resist the urge to correct them. In Filipino family culture, giving you a nickname is how they claim you as one of their own. It means you’ve been adopted by the barangay.
3. Nicknames are a love language and a GPS system.
Filipinos use nicknames to signal closeness and hierarchy all at once. “Ate Bingbing” is different from “Bingbing” — the “Ate” means older sister, and you will use it as a sign of respect even if “Ate” is 3 years younger than you. You’ll also figure out who’s who by nickname clusters. If everyone at the party calls each other “Day,” “Nene,” or “Dodong,” you’ve just been dropped into a Visayan family. If it’s all “Kuya” and “Ate” plus double names, you’re probably with a Tagalog family. The nicknames map the whole family tree.
4. Prepare for confusion during roll calls.
“Junjun, tell Junjun to call Junjun!” is a sentence you will hear. There are often 3 Junjuns in one family: Lolo Junjun, Tito Junjun, and baby Junjun. Context is everything. You’ll develop a Spidey-sense for which Junjun is being summoned based on tone, volume, and who’s looking at the door. Pro tip: when in doubt, just look helpful and wait for a clarifying “the driver Junjun” or “my youngest Junjun.” You’ll mess up. They’ll laugh. You’ll learn.
5. The group chat will break you.
Once you’re in the family GC, your phone will light up with “Morning, Dada!” “Happy birthday, Girlie!” “Jojo, eat already?” You will not know which 40-year-old is “Baby” and which toddler is “Mommy.” Profile pics don’t help because Tita Baby’s photo is her grandchild. Just send a “❤️” and a “God bless” to cover your bases. Filipina family group chats are 30% news, 20% prayers, 50% calling each other by nicknames in all caps.
6. Nicknames come with backstories you’re now part of.
Every “Bingbing” has an origin story. Maybe she cried “bing-bing” as a baby instead of “bink-bink.” Maybe “Girlie” was the only girl after 4 boys. When you date a Filipina, you don’t just get her — you get the lore. And her relatives will test you. “Do you know why we call him Toto?” If you listened during karaoke night, you’ll score points. If not, smile and say “Because he’s the youngest and the favorite?” That’s usually safe.
7. Public embarrassment tolerance will be required.
Filipino families have no chill about nicknames in public. You’ll be at the mall and hear her mom yell “BABY, YOUR JOJO IS HERE!” while pointing at you, a 6’2” man in a suit. You will turn red. She will not. To them, “Baby” and “Jojo” are terms of endearment, not age markers. Own it. The faster you respond to “Jojo” in Jollibee, the faster you become family.
8. It’s a preview of how she’ll love you: fully, loudly, and with labels.
The nickname culture tells you a lot about dating a Filipina. Love is expressed, not implied. People are claimed, not kept at arm’s length. If her family gives you a nickname, it means you’re in the inner circle. That same energy goes into relationships — you’re “Mahal,” “Langga,” “Babe,” “Hon,” and probably a food-related nickname by month 3. Filipinas are nurturing, and nicknames are part of that warmth. It’s never just “hey.” It’s “Hey, love, eat na.”
9. One day, you’ll catch yourself doing it too.
Give it 6 months. You’ll be telling your friends, “Yeah, so Junjun — her brother Junjun, not her cousin Junjun — said to ask Girlie if Baby can watch Toto.” You’ll say it with a straight face. You’ll have your own Filipina-given nickname, you’ll know 12 different “Ates,” and you’ll feel weird calling people by their government names. That’s when you know: you’re not just dating a Filipina. You’ve been warmly, chaotically, permanently nicknamed into the family.