As a woman who is rounding out her college experience with multiple leadership positions fulfilled, various leadership classes passed with flying colors, and a full year of maintaining a 60-member club to make sure it isn’t run into the ground, I can no longer hold back the abject disappointment I hold in many members of my gender and the archetype they have chosen to fill in a professional space. I have been slowly crushed by this disappointment for years, and now I am ready to express the mortification I feel witnessing girlbosses acting the way they do.
Both clubs I have actively been a part of during my college experience are centered around female empowerment and freedom. I have organized over 70 events–yes, I have counted–on my campus that, at their core, were centered around creating a safe space for women and their interests. I love all the women in these clubs: I adore their shining faces at meetings, their strength, their intelligence, their humor, and their drive. I would do anything for these women. But every so often a girlboss–a cutthroat, success-oriented woman who rides on the coattails of female empowerment for their own gain– comes along, pulls her pants down, and takes a sh•t on collective womanhood. More than once, the girlbosses of my world have tried to absolutely shatter the walls of female support I and countless others have worked so hard to establish.
I have never felt my strength and femininity more negated than in the spaces I have worked so hard– with my fellow women –to create.
I have had a letter written about me, and published publicly, comparing me to warlords in Syria for disagreeing with another woman’s decision. I have been called a b•tch behind my back and to my face. I have been called power hungry, a mean-girl, aggressive, controlling, and anal. I have been sent to tears and sent to therapy for the anxiety being a leader of feminist clubs has instilled in me.
Because of this, I have held back my anger and bit my tongue. I have made it impossible for anyone to call me power hungry or b•tchy again. But what is the point of holding back my anger anymore?
Because yes, I am angry. I am angry that in 2024, women seem to still hold the notion that leadership cannot be shared. I am angry that in every message I or my peers send, we have to throw an exclamation point or emoji in, or we will be seen as blunt and uncompassionate.
I am so angry that no matter how professional I try to be, no matter how many bylaws I write or procedures I stick by, my morality and goodness as a human being is brought into question with every decision I make. It is exhausting, and it is demoralizing, and it is something men do not have to deal with.
Former Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg once said to a reporter: “I’m sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court]? And I say when there are nine, people are shocked. But there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.”
Ruth Bader Ginsburg was born in 1933 and understood that one woman’s success did not mean another’s failure. I cannot understand why college aged women today dishonor this notion. Especially not college aged women actively involved in organizations which center on the values of a supportive, inclusive environment.
At a predominantly white institution, I have seen feminism used most often for personal benefit, and I these girlbosses know better. I am no longer forgiving girlbosses for acting dumb and posting sweet pink infographics about feminism online while willingly stabbing women in the back because they think they could do better. I believe in the intelligence of women, and so while I am happy to explain to a man why female empowerment is so important, I will not to you. You. Know. Better.
To the girlbosses out there, I hope you know that once you finish tearing down the pillars of womanhood in pursuit of your own ego and success, and when the next girlboss comes to tear down the pillars you reconstructed, there will be no one there to help you.
I have loved the positions I have held on campus and would not take them back if I could. The women I have met and led over the years inspire me to be better. But the girlbosses I have so unwillingly combated with have forever tainted the dreams I had of a perfect woman-led company, club, business, or institution.
This letter is addressed to no one in particular, but as a result of many interactions over the years. The genuine kind, secure, confident women I have met prove that we, as women, can disagree without bringing morality into the conversation, can butt heads without the behind-the-back gossip and drama, and can be wrong without it getting rubbed in our face by our adversaries. We can solve conflict in a single meeting if we need to, and return to friendly relations instantly after the conflict is solved.
But to the girlbosses: if you were truly kind, secure, and confident women, you would know this too. If you are working on your confidence, that’s fine–but why is it my problem that the only way you seek to affirm your self-worth is by tearing others down?
Unfortunately, the girlbosses might not even read this, because they are too busy staring at their own accomplishments, thinking reading another’s work is not worth their time. And the women who read this may worry my words are about them, but honestly, I know the girlbosses, will not worry, will not read, and will not care. And that is the difference between a girlboss and the genuinely beautiful women who have made my positions worth it.
Girlbosses are fumbling the gift of being a woman in the 21st century who has the power to bring other women and minorities up the ladder with her. We have the potential and power of a dammed continental river, and yet girlbosses are focusing on their own personal puddle.
I am putting on my cap and gown and leaving my leadership positions with a full heart: brimming with love for the women I have met and excitement to see what they do next. But not for the girlbosses; you have not helped me or anyone else get to where we are. So, girlbosses, when your puddle dries up, and you want to get some more water from our shared dam, do not come to me. You know better.