As a woman, I often encounter things I cannot do. I cannot lift certain things. I'm going to hit the glass ceiling and will not receive the same pay as a man. I'm looked at as weak, inadequate, and lacking knowledge in certain areas, just because I am a woman. I'm born with a vagina; therefore, I am not enough. Not smart enough. Not strong enough. Never enough.

Until I prove myself.

I strongly believe women should have equal rights to men. But I have no problem with proving why I deserve those until society catches up. Proving myself has turned out to be kind of fun too. The shock that crosses people's faces, the newfound respect that flashes in their eyes, the treatment - that should have been there from the beginning - that never fades, makes proving myself worth the trouble.

This process occurs more often than you think, in more ways than one. Sometimes it's not even noticeable. But I find that it happens mostly in what is considered a man's world. Such as racing, in my case. I've classified myself as a drag racer for as long as I can remember. I've been racing since I was ten years old. And it never fails that someone mistakes me for "Daddy's Little Helper". Especially now.

My race car is a 1968 Chevelle. It's a large car with a large motor that goes faster than most of the cars at our home track. So the doubt is slightly understandable. But not by much. Unfortunately, we exist in a society where people are still raised to believe that men are the racers and women the sandwich-makers.

I've had young boys walk up to me with shock and doubt scratched across their faces that I am the driver of the "white whale", as my father calls it. I've had men ask questions regarding the car as though I won't know the answers, obviously looking to prove that I'm just a spoiled girl racing under Daddy's wrench. I've even had some women who doubt my ability to drive. Proving them wrong is always a thrill.

Our society thinks that trains, planes and automobiles are men's hobbies. And unfortunately, our society of women hasn't done all that much to prove them wrong. But my family and many other families are building up women, helping women to enjoy the hobbies that are supposedly solely for men, and encouraging them to be amazing at these hobbies.

I need to thank my parents for being the kind of people who believed we could race in a "man's world". My mom had no doubt in us and gave up so much to encourage our passion and love for this sport. My dad, along with giving us these opportunities, taught us to be knowledgeable and capable in them. I work on the car. I know how to drive the car. I know just about everything there is to know about the car. It's mine.

I don't know everything about cars. Nine times out of ten I cannot tell you when we drive down the road what vehicle has pulled up next to me. I confuse Novas and Chevelles more often than I'd like to admit. I work at parts store but cannot tell you what some of the parts are used for. I can put my motor together and tear it apart, but I cannot tell you exactly how it works. Sometimes, I struggle just breaking some bolts loose.

I'm still learning. I don't think I will ever be done learning. But I know a lot more than people give me credit for. I can change my oil. I can check my tire pressure. I can tear apart and put together, entirely by myself, a junior dragster motor. I can begin the tear down process on the big motors, if the bolts aren't beyond tight. I can drop the rear end, by myself. I'm not afraid to get dirty or run my hair over with the creeper. Okay, I am afraid to run my hair over with the creeper - it hurts far too much - but that doesn't stop me from getting on it time and time again. I know the difference between allen wrenches and normal wrenches, between straight and phillips screwdrivers. I can bullshit with the best of them. I can race with the best of them.

When people look at me next to this beautiful car that goes scary fast, they assume that I don't know much. Because I'm a girl trying to make it in a man's world. I will make it. I have no doubt. Unfortunately, it'll take time to prove to all the haters and doubters. If I didn't love the sport so much, if I didn't want to inspire all the other little girls out there that want to race just like her big brother, if I didn't believe women could do things just as well as men, I would give up. But I do want all those things. So being a woman won't stop me from being the best. After all, to be the best you have to outwork the rest, and no boy or girl is more determined than I am.