I’ve always been independent; I’ve always been described as independent, and I’ve always defined myself as independent.
I’ve been told so many times that I am independent, to the point that it is the first trait I use to describe myself. I believe it and live it. I was the fourth grader who could parent herself into getting good grades, keeping after chores, and cooking her own meals.
It was in the fourth grade that I discovered the power of independence. During that year, I was obsessed with nostalgic teen movies and picturing myself as the female leads. The night I found 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) changed everything.
The movie’s opening scene captures who I envisioned to be as a teenager. A group of girls roll up to a red light with their convertible top down, dancing to the hottest pop song. No, I didn’t want to be them. I wanted to be Kat Stratford. She pulls up next to the group of girls droning out their pop nonsense with Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation. She didn’t care what anyone thought. She was independent.
The point of the movie was to get Kat to date so that her younger sister would be allowed to date as well. Kat didn’t have a boyfriend because she didn’t need one. She was content reading her books, listening to her music, and dreaming of leaving Seattle.
She closed herself off, and as a nine-year-old, I saw that as a powerful mode of survival. Over the next several years, I myself was closed off because independence was a shield I could use to protect myself from the pain of growing up. Kids can be mean, but I could always be meaner.
I was blunt, harsh, and sarcastic because that was how my idol acted. I dressed in dark and baggy clothing to reject the mold of femininity projected as the enemy in the movie.
However, it has taken me ten years to realize that my so-called independence and refusal of femininity might have hurt me more than protected me.
By modeling myself off of Kat Stratford, I have been left unable to be dependent. I find it hard to ask people for their help and to believe that they could be there more than I could for myself.
Ms. Stratford has made it difficult for me to see myself in a relationship. I can’t fathom being conjoined to another person because my identity is defined on the premise that it can’t be mended with another’s. Her brash nature when it came to romantic interest is how I have acted every time I’ve fallen into a similar situation. I turn everyone down because I can’t see myself losing any part of my independence because that would mean losing myself.
She is an idol to my nine-year-old self but a villain to who I am now because of her. Strength is not derived from independence but the ability to recognize when you need others and to let them know you need them.
Kat Stratford may have created me, but now I must destroy her.