Often, upon first meeting, people see, and appreciate (I’m told), that I’m really good at being a girl. I often wear dresses and, until last week, had long blond hair falling down my back. I’m petite and wear a size 2. I was raised in the old-money South, a world filled with pearls and manners (and, I feel it should be noted, I can still pass in that world when necessary). I walk really well in high heels. I keep a color-coded bullet journal and put inspirational quotes on my bathroom mirror. At first glance, I come across as a pretty established girly-girl.
However, probably less than 2 seconds later, people (hopefully) start to recognize that I’m more than that. I spent too many years working on a PhD and have very passionate, researched opinions on a variety of topics. I will open a door for whoever is behind me if I get there first. I run my own business and lift heavy weights. I don’t really like kids and can curse like a sailor. For many people, these things negate the previous statements. They make me bad at being female. I’m a tomboy at best. It blows my mind every single time someone brings any of these tiny things that many logical humans do to illustrate that I’m less successful at being a girl.
I’ve come to terms with it, though, and actually want more. I don’t want to be a good girl. I want to be a fucking badass woman and start to change the conversations.
I don’t want it to be impressive that I backpack by myself because the world is a scary place when you have breasts. I want the distance I traveled and the experiences I had to be what people talk about when I get back. I don’t want it to be a big deal that I’m financially independent and an entrepreneur as a woman. I want the conversations to be about the trials of owning your own business and the growing trends towards less-traditional jobs. I don’t want it to be a pat on the back that I hung up a picture alone, I want it to be super rad that I built the drawers and platforms to live in my car (or, in the inspiration for this post, the frames to teach a slackline workshop on). I don’t want it to be cool that I jumped on Steemit and am learning about cryptocurrency because I’m a female. I want to talk about the differences here between other social media formats and why I, as an educated person who isn’t completely computer illiterate, still hadn’t learned enough about crypto before now to know communities like this existed or how they were possible.
Everyone talks about how much the world is progressing, yet I don’t often see it in my daily life. I get paid more in Instagram based on how few clothes I’m wearing (and friends that do equally, if not more, awesome things get little attention if they don’t look as good on the camera). I can’t run around my neighborhood at night because it isn’t safe. I’m told how awesome it is that I have dogs to protect me, not how incredible rescue dogs are. Yes, the world is progressing, but not fast enough.
And so, I take on challenges to, at the very least, start those conversations with myself. In the end, as the cliches go, it all starts with you, right? I learned to keep receipts and records painfully organized for my taxes even though it stresses me out to no end. I climb hard, and not just for a girl, even though I’m terrified of falling. I’m designing, constructing and preparing to live in my own tiny home even though I already have nightmares about wiring it all. I’m posting on here and sharing vulnerabilities, even though I’m still trying to figure out how the back end of the system all works and the type of people that make up the community. And today, I’m sucking it up and building the equipment I need to create the best possible, most empowering experiences for my clients, even though it means using a circular saw that I hate.
To me, being empowered is worth it. At the very least, I want to be experienced enough to say for certain why I act, think, and feel like I do. How about you Steemit community? Whichever gender you claim, do you do things that scare you for the sake of personal and societal growth?