I had never really thought about what it really meant to be a girl until I went to college.

Growing up, I had always been kind of a tomboy. Ridiculously bad at sports, but willing to pick up worms and crickets outside in the mud or in science class. I didn't like being girly. I said no to dresses and pink. Once, at a makeup birthday party, I ran to the bathroom to scrub off my makeup and nail polish because I felt "heavy."

Growing up, I had no problem speaking my mind. When boys began repeating girls' comments to the class, I called them out. I took charge in group projects, whether it was the class store in the fourth grade or a presentation in 11th grade.

Growing up, I never had a boyfriend. When girls played aloof around boys, I didn't stay quiet. When I saw I had to change who I was to get a date, I didn't get a date.

Growing up, I loved being a girl. My type of girl. I loved being me.

Today, I'm still that same girl. I am loud and wear sweat pants before anything else. But It wasn't until college that I really had to think about what it would mean to be a woman. What I wanted for my future. After a year of being undecided, I decided to be a teacher. And I'm not saying that teaching isn't a perfectly amazing career. It's just that for a while I was afraid that I was picking it over law because I am fitting into gender stereotypes. And here's the truth: I am. I want to be able to have a job that is compatible with having kids. Because as a woman, this is a factor you have to assess. It's a fact of life that you have to decide if you want to have nannies and childcare or not. And here's the truth, I am simultaneously resentful of the fact that I am told by society to bear the weight child care on me, while simultaneously wanting to have kids in the future and being excited for this burden (because my parents did one heck of a job raising me and my siblings).

My twin, a nursing major, and I still flinch whenever people ask "what's your major?" And it's not because of pride, because my major isn't the hardest or most prestigious major. It's because I feel like I'm no longer holding up a worm, showing how tough I am. I'm still strong if I have a stereotypically feminine job choice.

But I'm trying not to flinch at the thought of explaining my choice. Because I am comfortable in my decision. I was so afraid to be seen as less feminist because I am choosing what society deems a motherly job. But I was wrong. This is not the truth. Defying stereotypes isn't necessary for the stereotypes to be the only valid path. I don't have to take stereotypically manly actions or careers simply to be equal to men. I have nothing to prove because femininity is strong and equal. Not pursuing the most prestigious career for the sake of my own future is smart. The freedom to choose a life is progress.

It's so important as a feminist, as a woman, as a human, to have confidence in the choices you make for yourself, whether exceptional or exceptionally ordinary. Creating a life, any life for yourself, is a dangerous and crazy feat.

Now that you're growing up, trust yourself and make the little girl in you proud.