“You’re not like other girls,” he told me.

He cupped my face in his hands and smiled down at me.

“You’re special, that’s why I love you.”

I remember smiling at his words but when I went home that night, I felt them pounding inside my head like a drum.

I am different. I am not like the others.

I think of my dear friends. Sweet, kind, and always so understanding.

I think of the way they dance and smile.

I think of all of their selfless actions and genuine hearts.

I am not like them.

I think of my mother. I think of how she gives all of herself to everyone around her. I think of her strength and her perseverance.

I am not like her.

The next day I walk to class and I pay special attention to the girls surrounding me. They are all so beautiful and kind.

I laugh with the girls in my literature class, and I can’t help but think to myself how humorous and intelligent they each are.

I think to myself, I am not like any of them.

Since when did being like other girls become so wrong?

I look at the women around me and I don’t feel the desire to distance myself from them.

I want to be kind like my friends. I want to be strong like my mother. I want to be smart like my classmates and beautiful like the strangers around me. I want to be unique, yes, but I don’t want to be different.

There is strength in being like the others. There is a solidarity in being like other girls. When did being a girl become a derogatory term?

“I hate other girls, they’re too much drama.”

“She thinks she’s so pretty and she’s not even cute.”

“Don’t worry I’m not like other girls.”

I hear these phrases thrown back and forth. Some have even spilt from my own lips.

But I don’t want to have to tear down others to be considered special.

Why must I distance myself from other women in order to be great, in order to be special?

Why must I be different from other girls, from the women I consider friends, from the women I consider my sisters?

Why must I separate myself from them in order for you to love me? In order to be wanted? In order to be special?

Making them small doesn’t make me any bigger. I can be just as big beside them. I can be bigger with them.

I can be sweet and genuine.

I can be strong and selfless.

I can be beautiful and intelligent.

I am all of these things.

Because I am just like other girls.