I was once told that girls can do anything. I was once told that glass ceilings were meant to be broken. I was once told through tampon commercials and YA dystopian novels and from Barbie herself that empowerment starts with me. I’m no longer told these things.
I’m told that the women who matter are mothers. Wives. Sisters. In the home. In kitchens. In skirts and eyeshadow. In relation to men who are lauded as nice. One of the good ones. Don’t look at his history of being a sex pest. You’ll ruin his life. He wants to be mayor, I’m told.
I’m told that real women look a certain way. To tap into my divine feminine aura, with a $200 skincare routine. Biologically designed to be pleasing. Placating. No room for butches. Or dolls. Or studs. I’m told they aren’t real women anyway. I’m told they need to be soft, nurturing, cozy. Don’t cuss. Don’t slouch. Shave it all. Smooth it out. It’s better that way, I’m told.
I’m told lesbianism is only about non-men with no mention of actual attraction to other women. I’m told everyone’s a little bisexual. I’m told to let men hit on me because you never know. Because who could be attracted to women? Better to say non-men. Actually, we can include men. Men, too. I was actually friends with Sappho herself and she told me that we should make sure men feel seen and heard and held and uplifted. No need to mention women at all.
I’m told having sex with a woman is crazy. How does it even work? I’m told it’s kind of gross. I can’t even imagine going down on a woman. I actually feel bad for men who have to have sex with women. I’m told I should feel bad for them, but there’s just no other way for women to become valuable. So unfortunate. Or so I’m told.
I’m told to stay naïve and homely and do a #pink job. Let the men handle the hard things like shoveling snow and laughing with your full chest. Or eating. I’m just a girl. I’m only a girl. Please, help me, I cannot, for I am just a girl. I’m told to reconnect with my #girlhood. To not let the folds and wrinkles and fat overtake me. I’m told to stay young, stay innocent, stay put, stay. Smile. Stay. Good girl.
These are the things I’m told.
Cover image from Chloe Atkins’ Girls Night Out
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