Women in media representations have always had strict boundaries placed on them. For decades, female characters were often confined to shallow and superficial portrayals, ones secondary to men, whether that be the nurturing mother or the love interest. They were designed and written with traits of delicateness, softness, politeness, and demureness.
Even when women were cast as leads in a story, they were often polished to perfection, morally, physically, and emotionally flawless by every standard. Rarely were women on screen given the freedom and opportunity to be contradictory, messy, selfish, overambitious, or morally gray in the way their male counterparts have long been allowed to be.
That is precisely why complex female characters feel so real and necessary. These characters reveal just how varied and intricate the female experience can be. They remind us that women are allowed to be emotional, impulsive, and deeply flawed yet still worthy of love and affection. They aren’t written to be endlessly refined and sophisticated, but instead as people shaped by desire, grief, insecurities, ambitions, and mistakes. In fact, it’s their flaws that make them so relatable, so utterly human.
Characters like Devi Vishwakumar, Fleabag, Lady Bird, and Jo March stand out because they reject the traditional notions of femininity imposed on women on screen. They are wonderful, kind, and caring, but they also make mistakes and hurt others. You love them one moment, but you’re infuriated with them the next.
Devi from Never Have I Ever, for instance, captures the chaos and contradiction of teenage girlhood perfectly. She is impulsive, reactive, a little irrational, and often makes decisions that frustrate everyone around her, from her mother to her friends. Yet, every fault of hers stems from grief, insecurity, and the overbearing emotions that come with adolescence. Her messiness perfectly reflects how complicated growing up can be.
Similarly, Christine or “Lady Bird” from Lady Bird, whose stubbornness, ambition, and emotional volatility make her feel so achingly real, embodies complexity differently. She is strong-willed and dreams of independence, for something bigger than the life she’s known this far, but on that journey, she often hurts those closest to her. She is not presented as the perfect daughter or the perfect friend, but as someone learning to be herself while navigating the growing pains of life and complicated relationships.
Then there is Fleabag from Fleabag, who perhaps captures the raw nuance of womanhood devastatingly. She is witty, self-destructive, emotionally distant, and often her own worst enemy. At times, it is hard to root for her, but not once you realize that her flaws are rooted in grief, loneliness, guilt, and the immense pain, fear, and shame she carries within herself. She uses her humor as a shield for her vulnerability. She has no idea what she is doing, but that is okay. It is her refusal to act composed when she is anything but, that makes her feel so deeply relatable.
In the same vein, Jo March from Little Women presents another side of female complexity. She is fiercely ambitious, outspoken, and unwilling to conform to the expectations placed on her by society. Jo longs to pursue her passions and a life bigger than the one she is caged in; yet she is also deeply emotional and profoundly attached to her family. In chasing her ambitions, she often finds herself torn between seeking freedom and belonging. She is not written to be demure or delicate, but as someone passionate, driven, and deeply human in all her stubbornness.
These characters show how women are not the one-dimensional, vain figures they have so often been portrayed to be. They push back against the impossibly unrealistic standards that women are held to and instead offer genuine characterizations. They prove that women have the right to be as flawed, messy, uncertain, and contradictory as any man, but that doesn’t make them any less worthy of empathy, understanding, or love.
And to see such women on screen is so liberating. It reminds me that there is no singular way to be a woman and how diverse and varied womanhood and femininity can be. They remind us that we are allowed to be selfish, impulsive, vulnerable, and stubborn, free of judgment and fear. Maybe this is why these characters carve their spaces into our hearts, stay with us long after the screen goes dark. Not because they are picture perfect or easy to love by any means, but because they feel so palpably real. In all their imperfections and messiness, they remind us of ourselves.