How Nora Aunor Shaped My Life: A Noranian’s Heartfelt Tribute to the Superstar

NEW YORK - I was born a year after Nora Aunor made her debut in 1971, at the height of Noramania. I never experienced the frenzy of those early years, but I do remember that she was the first artista I idolized. I can even recall my neighbors debating passionately over her and Vilma Santos—my mom was a staunch Vilmanian.

In 1978, while watching TV, I saw a statuesque girl being crowned by a petite black beauty. I asked my mom who they were, and she told me the black woman was Nora Aunor! I believed her wholeheartedly, fascinated that Nora was a Miss Universe winner. Years later, I realized it wasn’t true—but by then, my love for beauty pageants was already born.

I kept my admiration for Nora alive and my passion for pageantry grew. It even led me to write about the pageant scene for several newspapers and publications, most notably for Mr. Ricky Lo’s Funfare column in the Philippine Star from 1998 to 2021.

During grade school, I faced ostracism for being both gay and a Noranian. Nora’s characters on screen became my source of strength. Her portrayals made me feel seen; she reflected our lives in a way that was empowering. I still remember a classmate from 1980 who told me Nora was ugly—I have ignored him ever since.

The 1982 Metro Manila Film Festival was a turning point. Watching Himala opened my eyes to many of life’s realities. I remember the cinema packed to the brim, people clapping thunderously after the screening, and the emotional impact of the final scene—it was both thrilling and a bit traumatic to see. After the MMFF Awards Night, when some critics dismissively called it “Lutong Macaw,” I knew history would vindicate its greatness. And decades later, the CNN recognition did just that.

In 1984, I watched Merika, a quiet film that inspired me to pursue a career in nursing and dream of living in New York. Ten years later, I became a nurse and eventually settled in New York in 2008. I even visited 193 Manila Avenue in New Jersey, the house where Nora’s character lived in Merika, and made a personal album where her stills mirrored my own “American Dream.”

Through high school, I continued following her career. Lotlot eventually entered showbiz, and I discovered we shared the same birthday and birth year—I felt an even deeper connection to Ate Guy. As a teenager, I would go alone to RPN 9’s Broadcast City to watch Lotlot and Friends and Superstar, joining other young fans who made sure I was safe and cared for. I met many Noranians, including Lady Guy, Ivy, and Gemma Aguilar, along with numerous “lolas” and “nanays” who looked after the younger fans.

In 1989, I almost missed my graduation because Lotlot was marrying Ramon Christopher the same day. My mom was upset when I said I’d rather attend the wedding—but of course, I went to graduation.

I was always amazed by the gargantuan crowds that greeted Nora at the height of her popularity. I witnessed it firsthand during her 1991 Handog ni Guy concert at Araneta Coliseum. It was packed to the brim! Seeing fans, old and young, share that joy and pride with her was unforgettable. I was lucky to have second-row tickets courtesy of Mr. Mike Enriquez, my best friend’s uncle. That day, I even missed the evening telecast of Miss Universe just to be there. Seeing Nora nearly drowned in flowers as fans presented them onstage was a moment etched in my memory.

I had the chance to meet her in person multiple times, though I didn’t always capture the moments in photos. I remember one awards night for Naglalayag where I stood beside her as she walked from the stage, only for my friend to be too star-struck to take a single picture. But last year, at the 40th Star Awards for Movies, I finally managed to take a selfie with her onstage alongside Maricel—this was enough for me.

When I heard the news of her passing, I first thought it was fake. I hoped it was. But when friends from the industry confirmed it, I was devastated.

Only now do I find the strength to write my tribute. Nora Aunor, Ate Guy, the Superstar—thank you. Thank you for shaping my dreams, giving me strength, and reflecting my life in ways no one else could. Your legacy is eternal.