I liked wearing shorts and baggy tees.
Hair dancing unapologetically with the breeze.
Finding me outside with a ball in tow.
I never had a need for any hair bow.
Looking in the mirror asking, “Ain’t I a woman?”
Declaring back proudly, “Shit yeah, I’m a girl.”
While most of the other girls in the competitive junior tennis circuit wore skirts and bows in their hair, I wore shorts and sometimes a backwards baseball cap. In addition to tennis, I played basketball and softball, and field day was my favorite day of the year. I preferred being outside over any indoor activity. My hair was known to be wild and loose. I was what the world would call a “tomboy.” Because of this, by the sixth grade, I was no longer invited to the slumber parties with the other girls. I had lost my seat at the girls’ table.
There were times I would wonder if I had been born a boy would I have fit in better? But deep inside I knew the answer — I was proud to be a girl, even if it looked different from my peers. When my period came at 12, I asked myself, “Ain’t I a woman, now?”
A friend of mine recently told me a story about when she went to her university’s tutoring center for help with a paper she was writing. At the end of the meeting, the instructor asked her, “Are you a ‘she’?” My friend looked back at her and declared, “Shit yeah, I’m a girl.”
My friend keeps her hair shaved low and rocks sneakers with her joggers. She’s currently serving in the military, protecting the country that does not appreciate her womanhood. I’ve stood next to her when someone said, “Excuse me, ‘sir’.” A few weeks later it happened to me, too.
Throughout my life, I’ve been told to either act “like a girl” or “like a lady.” Or as my mom would sometimes say, “Kristen, that’s not very ladylike.” And I would always question her and the world, “How is a lady supposed to act?” Because even as a younger form of myself, I did not believe that my behavior nor my appearance should define my gender.
For over three decades, I have had to defend my gender identity to a world that has a certain perception of what womanhood should look or act like. But there is no universal woman. There isn’t a standard in which we must all follow to pass the womanhood litmus test. Actions and behaviors don’t define gender. They never have. It was culture, society, and religion that attempted to define womanhood in terms of looks and actions. But today’s culture is waking up and digging up the weakly planted roots of sexism (and all the -isms). There is no universal woman, except that she is a woman universally.
In 2022, it’s time to let go of any preconceived notions of gender. We are free to express all gender identities however we choose. Women of all backgrounds are forging ahead and making their marks in Congress, in Hollywood, in the Supreme Court, and in sports. However, are they forging ahead in our backyard and neighborhood? In our community and city? It’s time to amplify and listen to women’s voices. All women.
The next little girl is waiting in the wings and watching to see if she’ll be able to step on stage as her full self. We should not want her to have any doubts on her persona as a woman. Beautiful. Strong. Graceful. Unique. Woman.
Womanhood is as fluid as the wind blowing through bloomed spring trees.
As beautiful as all the sunsets combined on the mighty Mississippi.
As strong as a live oak withstanding many hurricanes.
As diverse as a wild country garden in full bloom.
And bold enough to be the only one in a room.
Femininity not defined by actions.
Virtue not defined by compliance.
No appearance can be a criteria.
For womanhood is limitless.
Bound by no requirements.
Girls with shorts.
Or ladies with fades.
Ain’t I a woman?
Shit yeah, I’m a girl.
Kristen Smith is a Memphis-based writer and storyteller passionate about the transformative power of words for healing and joy.
