As a woman who grew up with the “girlboss” feminism, and is now being sucked into the spiral of “trad-
wife”, “just a girl” currents of thought, I can only wonder: when will it end?
When will we stop putting women into boxes so that we can understand them better, dissect their
personalities, analyse (and judge) their behaviour, and, most importantly, control them?
I don’t dare say this out loud because I know what label I will get stamped on my forehead. Crazy colour-
haired feminist. She’s always on that bullshit! She always makes it about gender! She always wants to
bring feminism to the conversation even for the tiniest, dumbest thing!
Well, what can I say? I’m tired of the cycle of womanhood: from trad wives to ‘we can do it’ pin-up dolls,
from girlbosses to Nara Smith clones. I’m tired of the labels, I’m tired of the expectations, but mostly,
especially, I’m tired of the ties that come with being a young woman – being a girl, being just a girl.
For the purposes of this article, let’s assume that we, woman in our 20s, are girls. I reclaim it as my own
identity, even though the world will use that label against me when trying to distance myself from my
independence. But let’s not open that pandora box (yet).
I love being just a girl. I love my Owala water bottle, my skincare routine, my pink keyboard and mouse
set. I love being exactly like the other girls. The positives of girlhood are an innate sense of empathy,
kindness, and sorority: when you meet a girl at the club’s restroom and help her fix her makeup, when
you see someone with the same outfit as you and you call them your twin, when a girl you don’t know
asks if you have any spare pads or tampons…
I saw a TikTok last week about two girls who crashed into each other, and when they got out of their
respective cars, they realised they were wearing the same outfit, so they recorded a video together
dancing to HOT TO GO! and asking for help on the highway. And I thought, reading the comments and
realising that everybody has a story of a stranger (always another girl) being kind to them: maybe this is
one of the bright sides of being a woman?
Maybe all the things we put up with, are worth it only because, at the end of the day, we have each other,
and we can find comfort in knowing that, for the greater collective that is girlhood, we can always find
empathy and kindness.
Now, the sad part.
Where do we draw the line between being just a girl for our own benefit, and being just a girl for the
benefit of others?
Calling women “girls” is a tool that acts against our freedom and independence – how so?
It infantilises us, and it ties our ideas and actions to the premise of ah, she doesn’t know, she’s just a
girl. If a man is outspoken about his ideas, he’s brave. If a woman speaks up, she’s rude, she’s bossy,
she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. And all of these thoughts are perpetrated as we continue to
call ourselves ‘girls’, and the world continues to view us in this way. I don’t want to be seen as a girl in the
workplace, I want to be seen as an engineer, as a researcher, as a work colleague, as an equal to my
male peers who, being my same age or younger, get treated with respect and recognition that I’ve never
received in my work life, because I’m a girl.
I want all the benefits of girlhood – the sorority, the companionship, the cute outfits and nails and the
colour pink, without having to tie myself to the negatives of people thinking that me, a 25-year-old woman, is just a girl.
How do we find balance between this two, in a world that despises the idea of us joining strengths and standing up for each other, but loves to tear us down and isolate us, turning us into a joke, a commodity, or an archetype rather than an individual?
That is the challenge of girlhood.
How do we find balance? Does it exist?
These are open questions that I ask myself and others, as I realise that we all have faced these common
issues in the workplace, and have refused to bring them up because, said out loud to a man, it sounds
like we’re insane. But said out loud to another woman… it sounds like we’re understood (or at least I hope
to be).
I hope to one day be able to become a part of the greater collective of girlhood, while being able to
reclaim my individuality as a person, not as a girl or a woman, but as a person who is much more
complex than any archetype or stereotype, and whose voice deserves to be heard, even when she’s
wearing all pink, or too much makeup, or very long nails. This is what I aspire for all woman to have: the
freedom of choice, without sacrificing the way you are treated by men (or let’s start calling all men
‘boys’?).