The most difficult thing I’ve ever done is be a living, breathing girl. Let me tell you — it’s not an easy life to live. Simultaneously, it is also the only thing I’ve ever done that is worth doing — not that it is something one really does at all.
Just about everyone is shoved into certain archetypes or categories at some point in their lives — for women, it’s doubly so. I remember sitting at the lunch table in elementary school when I felt this for the first time.
“Are you a tomboy or a girly girl?”
I simply couldn’t decide. I liked playing tag (one point for tomboy), but I also liked playing house (one for girly-girl). I painted my nails (girly girl), but I also liked playing with my older brother’s dinosaur toys (tomboy).
The answer came after my classmate looked me up and down, pointed right at my heart, and gave the verdict.
“I know. You’re a girly-girl!” Drat! The pink shirt I was wearing sealed my fate. At that moment I was condemned to be a girly-girl, and there was nothing I could do about it. On top of that — I felt ashamed. Not only did I have to be a girl, the kind that everyone screamed had cooties, but now I was twice as much of a girl as I already was! The horror!
I absolutely would not do it. I turned to my elders for help.
At Y-CARE, the after-school daycare I attended, I approached one of the wise-beyond-her-years third graders. She was a tomboy. She even wore gym shorts! I begged her for help. That was when it commenced: tomboy training. Tomboy training wasn’t all that rigorous. A few other trainees and I ran laps on the pavement or did hopscotch while doing manly chants.
Now this is it. I’m a real tomboy. I have shed that disgusting girly-girl curse. And what a way to live this was! I carried this mentality with me until middle school when I once again had to reckon with what it meant to be a girl. Stupid ideas, sayings, and mentalities pushed me away: “You’re so emotional,” or, “Is it that time of month?” to girls, and, “Stop acting like a girl,” or “man up” to boys.
These phrases don’t just hurt girls, they hurt boys too, but I didn’t realize it then. To me, these sayings were guidelines.
So, once again, I suppressed whatever it was that made me a girl. I didn’t want to be “bossy” like a girl. I wanted to be a leader, like a boy. I didn’t want to have to be “mature,” the way girls are expected to be. I wanted to goof off, to have sayings like “boys will be boys” apply to me. I didn’t want to be bound to the expectations of being a girl. I wanted the freedom that I thought being a boy entailed.
And so, I decided male life was the path for me. From then on, I resisted girlhood, at least in my mind. My best friends were still girls, and I was still fiercely feminist (I mean, come on! Girls go to college to get more knowledge, boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider!), but I carried this feeling of shame with me. I hated looking in the mirror and seeing someone who would always be nothing more than some girl looking back at me.
It wasn’t until sophomore year that my awakening came.
I was once again sitting at the lunch table.
“You’re definitely more masculine. Yeah, you’re kind of manly.”
It was someone recognizing it and saying it out loud that made me realize: I don’t want to be a man! I’m not ready to let go of girlhood! Not yet! I wanted to be the girly-girl that elementary-school-me suppressed so long ago.
It really hit me when I was watching “New Girl.” Season 1, episode 11, the traditionally feminine and major feminist main character, Jess, confronts Julia, a serious, not-so-girly lawyer. In a humorous breaking point, Jess used a series of jokes that went on to redefine womanhood in my mind.
“I brake for birds. I rock a lot of polka dots. I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours…. I hate your pantsuit. I wish it had ribbons on it or something to make it just slightly cuter. And that doesn’t mean I’m not smart and tough and strong.”
Girlhood doesn’t have to be juxtaposed with power, with strength. To embrace the things about being a girl that I loved, I didn’t have to give up all the things that boys had.
It is our responsibility to redefine girlhood — and boyhood, for that matter — so that no one is ashamed to be who they are. Gender is just a piece of our identities that should only stand to facilitate the more important aspects of our lives.
I’m unsure how elementary school me would see it. I’m equal parts “girly girl” and “tomboy.” I don’t really think I had percentages down at the time of the tomboy versus girly-girl debacle.
However, I do know one thing; I’m proud of being the girl I am. It’s a big accomplishment, and half of the population is doing it too.
