For as long as I can remember, everyone has always had the same reaction when they find out my father has five daughters. I’m not even exaggerating; their jaws drop so far that they hit the ground. Once they recover from the shock, they laugh and joke about how my father is outnumbered. He’s probably going crazy from all the girl talk and lack of masculine energy that every man needs to live a happy life, or something like that. My parents usually laugh back and say he’s fine because we have a dog that’s a boy.
I never thought that type of response was anything bad, just strange. It never made sense that people could see our family of seven and equate it to loneliness. A loneliness that could only be alleviated through a son. Somehow, the idea that a dog was better company was more believable than the idea of a father spending time with his daughters. I don’t think my dad, even for a second, has ever actually wished things were different.
Growing up, misogyny didn’t have a place in my house. It didn’t have a foothold or a door to walk through that would allow it to corrupt us. Each of our understandings of misogyny came from the outside world, but the ideas behind it felt empty and meaningless. The strongest people I knew were my sisters, so anything that contradicted that felt out of place.
I knew what it meant to be a woman well enough to understand I shouldn’t allow the stereotypes and societal ideals to hold ground. Yet fragments of misogynistic ideals still crept into my thoughts. While growing up, I kept trying to figure out how to make myself stand out from my sisters. We all craved individuality, but at the same time, we wanted to be everything the other was and have everything they had. Sisterhood, for a time, meant constant contradiction between wanting to stand out and wanting to belong.
When I was ten, I refused to be too feminine, such as wearing dresses or jewelry. Yet at the same time, I wanted to make sure I was feminine enough to be seen as a girl. Even then, I knew there was an inherent weakness associated with femininity that I didn’t want to be associated with. However, this mindset wasn’t the whole problem. I wanted to find a way to differentiate myself from my sisters because I wanted to be seen as myself and not just an extension of one of my sister’s personalities. However, I have come to learn that within a community, a sisterhood, it is impossible to go unnoticed by those who matter the most.
The more I grow and learn the value of myself as an individual, the more I am able to find a balance between all the different aspects of my life. Currently, I can see the world from two views: one that can celebrate sisterhood and femininity, while the other takes it for granted. I refuse to find foundation in the latter. It is easy for girls to feel like they are up against each other, or that they must be better or different in some way to have value as a person. The way the world works forces so many women to think they’re less capable just because of their gender. A sisterhood can be any community of women who welcome others with open arms. In a sisterhood, women are met with love, patience, and trust that exists without fear, competition, and limitation of abilities.