Embracing the phrase “like a girl”

I am the youngest and only daughter in my family. 

I have two older brothers, both of whom are tall, physically strong and built like linebackers. They both played defensive line on the football team in high school and were rugby players in college. 

My dad was the same way, playing football through college and later rugby in medical school. All three of them often sported black eyes and broken noses throughout their athletic careers. 

While growing up, I wanted to be tough like my brothers and dad. When my brothers were passing a football or playing wiffle ball I’d often beg to join in. As a little girl, I remember hearing my brothers say that all-encompassing phrase menstrual products companies have marketed and created social movements around: “Like a girl.” 

While playing with my brothers, I ran, threw, whined and cried like a girl. That phrase was the bane of my existence, so I did everything I could to beat it. 

I wanted to be sporty but in a ball-carrying tackle way. At six years old, I wanted to be considered one of the guys while wearing a neon pink rhinestone Justice skirt and matching top. I began to play sports more aggressively and faced physical consequences. 

At eight, I left soccer games bloody and softball games with black eyes, leading the people around me to call me a “tomboy.” They said I was more mature than the other girls on the field because I didn’t cry when a ball hit me or call for my parents when I fell, even though I wanted to. 

I stopped wearing skirts and dresses just to achieve a vague level of respect from my brothers. My early childhood was set around the belief that acting “like a girl” made me weak.

Trying to fit in with what was deemed acceptable by my brothers meant erasing all signs of girlhood despite my love of feminine things like the color pink or wearing bows in my hair. It also made me harden my exterior to prove my toughness, so I no longer expressed when I was hurt or upset for fear of looking weak. 

It wasn’t until early high school that I recognized the total misconception of my childhood. I went to an all-girls Catholic high school and began to wear skirts again due to the dress code. I discovered being a girl wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength fulfilled in numbers. 

At my school, the teachings in and outside the classroom were based on the Bible but were typically used to tear women down. During my education, I remember teachers calling students “sluts” or “whores” when their skirts were 3 ½ inches above the knee instead of 3. 

I remember the principal calling students fat because their skirts got tighter as they got older, even though it was just a normal part of aging. I remember religion teachers telling girls they would go to hell if they had premarital sex, took birth control or practiced their right to choose.

Instead of being hurt by our teacher’s words, we laughed and spoke our minds. During lunch, my friends and I would recite the grievances of what we heard in our day and laugh at our teachers’ ignorance. 

The girls around me were constantly condemned for expressing their femininity. And at such an impressionable age, often full of self-doubt, we encouraged each other to find humor in the judgment. 

I found empowerment in learning to express my emotions by talking with the women around me. Freely expressing my internal, daily qualms with a group of fellow girls opened my eyes to another layer of toughness -– one much harder to accomplish than what I knew in my childhood. 

I no longer saw being a girl or acting “like a girl” as an insult or a term that could be used against me. Getting older and learning the complexities of womanhood helped me realize the art and nuances of what it means to be a woman.

Looking back now, I realize there is no clear definition of femininity. I’ve never outgrown the resolve I had while playing sports and I love wearing the inherently feminine pieces in my wardrobe.

For me, womanhood is found in scraped knees from a childhood soccer game and getting my nails done on my birthday. I adore getting drinks with my friends to yap about our misgivings and future anticipations. 

Being a woman is about whatever you want to be, as long as you’re happy. Womanhood and femininity are not defined by another person, it is an individualized concept.