I used to write long, flowing sentences. Climb trees without fear. Make my voice heard and make no apologies for my opinions. It’s jarring to reflect on who I used to be. I feel the same in so many ways, but there are moments when I’m particularly conscious of the distance between my current and former self.
Now, I subconsciously compose tweets in my head and find it increasingly difficult to conjure up the descriptive prose I clung to in adolescence. The words, which once came effortlessly, are marked with a heavy hand, a hesitancy to pen the wrong word. Something that shatters the image of a thoughtful, composed young woman.
You could fill a graveyard with the people I used to be. But one loss particularly bothers me, because it is so starkly different than the image I have of my original self.
The once unabashed, outspoken girl has, despite my best intentions, become a quiet, hesitant woman. I double-and-triple think my music taste, my writing style, my tone at work. If I push back on this, will I come off as a bitch? For fear of assuming the slew of labels regularly used against women, I have lost my voice.
It seems I’ve been so indoctrinated that I can no longer respectfully disagree with someone’s opinion.
I could list countless influences that have contributed to my slowly-developed aversion to disagreeableness. I could – but I won’t, because I can pinpoint the exact cause. I, like most girls, have been told time and again – Boys won’t like you if you “____.” Fill in the blank space with anything you’d like – think of it as a mad lib. Whatever it is that makes you undesirable to men, you must stop. The spark inside, you must snuff out or risk burning everyone in your path. Outspoken? Hush. Smart? Hide it. Passionate? Tone it down. Most of these seemingly innocuous comments poured from the mouths of the well-intentioned, loving, incredibly fabulous and supportive people I call family, friends, and mentors. I in no way blame them. This is on us all. And there is no easy answer. I’d love to proudly proclaim I don’t give a damn if men find me desirable – but I can’t. As frustrating as I find the current state of womanhood, I don’t fantasize about spending the rest of my days alone.
But I also can’t spend the rest of my days masquerading as a meek, indecisive, wholly agreeable person. Maybe I can’t radically change society, but I have to start somewhere. So I’ll start here.
I’m determined to take back my voice. My unapologetic attitude. It’s still very much a part of who I am (ask my family – they’ll vouch for me), and I intend to fully embrace it. Of course, I have grown enough to realize I am not infallible – my opinions are not facts and can be shaped according to reason and experience. I must carefully walk the line between honestly speaking my mind and becoming a critic. (The world has enough of those already). But that doesn’t mean I’m obligated to agree with everyone with whom I interact. So long as it’s respectfully done, disagreement can foster incredible conversation and growth. Being likeable for the sake of being likeable is wholly uninteresting, and quite frankly, doesn’t inspire the change I’m so desperately searching for. So I’ve resolved to actively reject the agreeable-at-all-costs-sense of femininity that’s been thrust upon me. If that makes me a bitch, then so be it.
Because we all know: bitches get stuff done*.
*All bow to Amy and Tina.
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