I had no plans for anything exciting this summer - following my massive epiphany, I felt directionless. I had cultivated a reputation among my family and friends similar to that of Elizabeth Warren's in the presidential race. When everyone else's futures seemed amorphous and distant, I always had a tiresome plan. It was not long before I was humbled into realizing that I am not the grand exception to teenage volatility, though I flattered myself for years in thinking that I was. I knew I didn't want to scan groceries for another minute; five months of "Hi, how are you doing today? Did you find everything you were looking for?" had exhausted my humor in a way I didn't even know was possible. As I evaluated my interests - politics, literature, foreign affairs, writing - it occurred to me that maybe I would make a good lawyer. This remains highly peremptory, but I'm sticking with that general idea at the moment (though admittedly, I have lost all faith in my foresight. I have no idea what I'm doing.). I got an internship at a law school in New York City and find the work, primarily research, intensely interesting and gratifying. Exercising my intellect after months of its apparent dormancy is a welcome jolt of energy, and the field experience is invaluable.

Field experience transcends the superficial. It's about more than just learning how to navigate databases and formal definitions of legal jargon that only sound impressive. Most notably, this is my first time working in a male-dominated work environment. I do not consider this a caveat of the internship. If anything, this feels like a particularly realistic peek into how women have felt in the real world for decades. My boss is a woman, as is the program administrator, and I have been invited to (and plan to attend) events for women in the field. But there is something undeniably new about being the only female voice in the room day in and day out, and it's not exactly glamorous.

I consider myself a feminist, though far from a "social justice warrior." Any intention or logic built on the basis of gender is, to me, weird. As an intern, I have never been so conscious of being a young girl in my entire life (all of the interns, with the exception of one newcomer, are up to ten years older than me). It's the strangest thing, because I've never felt so intimidated. I don't let that stop me, because it doesn't take long to recognize that apprehension as being rooted in some sort of societal acceptance of male superiority, but sometimes I feel kind of...silly. As if wearing a skirt and heels diminishes my ability to understand weighty current events. Just today, all of the interns and our boss had a meeting to discuss a congressional hearing. One of my colleagues misidentified the title of one of the men who spoke, and after he finished speaking I jumped in to both offer my insight and, in the process, correct him. I did not interrupt him or embarrass him (I shouldn't even feel like I have to justify why I wanted to present correct information to my boss, but here I am). He interjected that he was pretty sure he was right. An uncomfortable silence fell in the room and I felt "pushy." Like I asserted myself when I shouldn't have. It turned out that I was right - he fatally pulled out his computer to support his claim but wound up proving what I said.

I like him personally, and maybe I'm ascribing more meaning to that little interaction than it deserves. But I am generally a leadership-oriented person, and I generally do not feel any anxiety that my input is unwelcome or stupid in a conversation-based setting. I have to actively push myself to contribute when I'm surrounded by men. It is not the most comfortable situation in which to insert myself. Nor do I enjoy the scrutiny I sometimes feel when I say, in all honesty, that I don't know something. I feel like in order to be respected, I need to know everything. As I navigate the ensuing few weeks, I plan to think as little about my gender as possible. The fact that I'm the only girl here has bothered me for a few weeks, and this article is my way of turning over a new leaf.

Yes, I did the research. Yes, I have an opinion. No, I do not feel uncomfortable sharing it. Why would I? Being a girl has never, and will never, stop me.