Recently, I found myself very frustrated. Not just because the internship application struggle is very much real. Not because this NYC heat wave is testing the resilience of even my tried-and-true "All Nighter" setting spray. And no, not because the plot of The Lion King is actually extremely emotional and borderline-twisted, what with the power-hungry familial murder and what not. No, none of these will be the topic of this week's post (but, honestly, let's put some on the back burner, because there's a lot happening there).

Recently, I found myself very frustrated, because I noticed that most of my journal entries revolve around boys. What can I say? I'm very much a "Dear Diary…" kind of girl, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was important to have very detailed descriptions of my dates – even just instances of extended eye contact on the subway, let's be real – for my future self to reference when reflecting on her past…or writing her wedding vows…whatever the case may be.

Now, I find this frustrating, not because I suddenly stopped finding it cathartic to write about all the feels – from lovey dovey to outraged and everything in between, depending how the date went, of course – but because I realized that my journal, the written account of my Summer of Me, fails to reflect so many of the amazing people in my life: the people who remind me of my worth and who acknowledge my potential – the people who have enriched my life in ways a boyfriend never could.

This one goes out to the girls' girls.

A girl's girl is the best kind of friend there is. She's a port in the storm, not because she listens to your unending babbling about life and love and the future (thus keeping you sane), but because she babbles right on back. She knows that you need her, and she embraces that. She's a feminist: the kind the builds other women up, because she knows that's the only way to rise for herself. She believes not only in giving other women a voice, but in finding them the space to make mistakes and then fix them. She expects seats for everyone at the table, even if that table is the cheap IKEA one you helped her put together, because neither one of you were about to let a man step in and take the credit. She's a girl's girl because she doesn't even realize she's doing all this. Her friendship is as selfless as it is (seemingly) effortless, the impact of which is hard to deny.

You know she's a girl's girl, because she makes you want to be one too. In fact, she makes you want to be your own girl's girl. She makes you realize how incredible you are and how much you have to offer – completely independent of any romantic relationships. That's inspired. That's worth journaling.

Thank you to the many women in my life who fit this bill. To my mom, the ultimate girl's girl, who taught me (no, who shows me) that every moment is an opportunity to exhibit kindness to the nth degree. To my sisters, who represent a (very) wide array of personality types, but who have embraced every "flaw" until it became a source of pride. I can only hope I've done the same for you. Finally, to my girlfriends. To all the amazing women who have encouraged and supported me through junior-high awkward phases, through high school fallings-out, and finally through my ongoing undergrad coming-of-age. I'm sorry for all the times my journal has severely underplayed your roles in my life. Know that your impact has not gone unnoticed, and I'm a better woman for trusting you. You're a girl's girl – Celebrate it!