Growing up, most females are trained to sit down, shut up, and only speak when spoken to. If something is too high to reach, too heavy to lift, or too masculine of a job, ask a man for help. Meanwhile, we're trained to love the color pink, wear our hair long, do our makeup perfectly, and dress appropriately.
As society shoved what it meant to be a girl in a man's world down my throat, my mind wandered.
"What if pink isn't my favorite color?" I thought.
Throughout the short span of my life as a teenager, I saw some positive aspects in men, and some negative.
Positive: Holding the door open for women as a sign of chivalry or respect.
Negative: Catcalling women in only semi-revealing clothing.
While relying on some men in my life became a survival tool, I began to imagine the women playing a more significant role.
Take my mom for example: she raised three kids around the clock, held a part-time job, and kept up with paying bills. Yes, my dad did a fantastic job of holding my family together and ensuring we had a roof over our heads, and food on the table, but the recognition in many families by default goes to the breadwinner, which is automatically translated into "head of the household," and ultimately "man of the house."
How about a change? How about "woman of the house?"
My mom guided me in the direction of independence my whole life, although I failed to see it until now. She never asked for anything from anyone, always did her job to the best of her ability, and pushed me to reach my full potential. I relied on my mom for almost everything, but who did she rely on for emotional support? While she could have easily gone to my father, her mother, or even me, she chose none of the above. I soon discovered that she didn't rely on anybody but herself, and I wondered why.
The characteristics showcased by my mom inspired me to follow suit. I began taking strides to become the role model I saw in her. In this, significant change erupted.
I stopped relying on others and began trusting myself over anyone else. Asking for help (especially from a man) was a thing of the past, and entirely out of the question. If my mom was strong enough to do it, I'm sure I could do it, too.
Rather than ignoring the catcalling, I began shooting dirty looks back that said, "I'm a girl, and I'm definitely not one to mess with." Did it work? Who knows. All I cared is that I was no longer a female door-mat, or sex object, who simply ignored disgusting comments from men three times my age.
With more powerful body language came a more intimidating image. I was never truly a girly-girl, so I began embracing my inner punk-rocker. I dyed my hair red, got some new piercings, and started a bandana collection. Not only did this boost my self-confidence to finally wear what I felt most comfortable in, but it made me feel like a lot less of a target.
In time, I learned of other women, mostly my age, who began looking up to me, but why? Was it because of my ambition to push the boundaries of the "act like a lady" box I'd been shoved into? Could it be my fearless attitude toward men who used to intimidate me? I couldn't say.
Regardless, I finally understood why my mom relied on herself above anyone else.
Trusting yourself does something to your self-confidence. It brings you to a place where, no matter what the circumstances, you are reliable, and you will be okay.
Gender roles aren't something to rage over, nor something to ignore. Respect should rule over both sexes rather than once sex possessing all the power. I became fearless by embodying the powerful woman I wanted to be, and in doing so, I learned that fighting like a girl can be both terrifying, and effective.
