One thing most teen movies have in common with real life is the way they portray the girls who are different from the others. They star a girl (the protagonist) who might be overlooked because she's not "girly" like every other girl in the school (the antagonists), but, eventually, a boy (the love interest) will see that she is superior because she's "not like the other girls." She's not into makeup and clothes and hair; she's smart and quirky and knows how to throw a football at 40 mph.

That's why it seemed like such a travesty to be stereotypically feminine when I was younger, because this idea translates into real life, as well. I really wanted to wear high heels and red lipstick and to order a salad on a date, but I was afraid that I would be labeled as "high maintenance" and vapid—nowhere near Amanda Bynes's characters in any of her movies. It wasn't even simply the fear of repelling boys that influenced my outlook, but the fear of being rejected by other girls, too.

One day, after ages of struggling with internalized misogyny, I realized that I didn't like football and I never would. I'd rather chew off my own toenails than sit through a game. You know what else? I hate camping and I don't care who knows it. Sign me up for a hotel with indoor plumbing and room service. I can't eat a large order of fries, a burger, and two milkshakes on a date, because I'm prone to heartburn and I know I'm going to spend all night trying not to vomit.

But I also leave the house with hair on my legs that has been brewing for three weeks and I will always be down for pizza. I can be many different things and still be a girl. This revelation about the obvious brought forth my most liberating realization:

I am like the other girls.

And I'm damn proud of it.

We're awesome. We can take our bras off without taking off our shirts. We can walk into a bathroom full of strangers and any one of them will gladly give us a tampon. We can send our friends telepathic signals to notify them that the guy we're talking to is creepy and they need to get us out of there fast. It's magical. Girls are magical, and I'm glad to be one of them. Why wouldn't I be?

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being compared to other girls. It's like I'm being forced to compete against my own teammates. I don't want to hear that I'm nothing like the way girls usually are because, yes, part of me is afraid of revealing myself as a fraud once it's clear that I'm totally "like the other girls," but a bigger part of me just resents the comparison. I don't want to be influenced into thinking that there's an ideal way to be a girl and that that way sure isn't feminine. It's like the only way to be an acceptable girl is to look like you're wearing makeup but never talk about it, look Photoshopped but pretend you never tan or wax, and then act like a "boy" but look like a "girl." It's sexist and I want no part of that thinking.

I can tell you what I do want, though. I want boys to remember that femininity is a spectrum and that any girl can fall anywhere on it and still be valuable. I also want my fellow girls to remember that other girls are just as complex as you are, and there's no need to be proud that you consider yourself different from them. Don't let anyone tell you that being associated with the female gender is degrading in any way, shape, or form. We are complicated, interesting, wonderful beings. If you consider yourself as such, then you, too, are like the other girls. Lucky you.