MY GIRLS or WOM(XX)N: a personal look into a developing feminist

Jokingly, half-jokingly, but mostly seriously, I tend to use the phrase "my girl" to attribute any woman who I deeply resonate with and look up to. There are a flock of women from every corner of my life, from my favorite professors to leading historical figures, from the woman who asks me about school at my favorite restaurant to the one who knows my favorite foods by heart and encourages me to try my best every day - the number of women who inspire me grows daily, and I can't help feel an overwhelming sense of revery when I meet one who is, simply put, kickass.

I've been questioning the necessity of labels these days - why do we have to identify ourselves as feminists if people who are not bigots do not have to brand themselves as  "tolerant human beings?" I have always believed that men and women were equal politically, socially, and economically, but it was not until my first year of college that I started to discover the disparities between the two sexes in the work environment and even, the very streets we walk on.

 Though I can see eye-to-eye in many different topics of feminism that constitute "right" and "wrong," I struggle with ideologies that have been so heavily engrained and repeated to me that I feel as if they are not habits but definable traits. What do I mean by that? I know that wearing makeup is conforming to the idea that beauty trumps all; there are far more things that have greater value and significance than "a pretty face," but why do I feel the need to step out of my apartment everyday after spending ten or so minutes in front of the mirror drawing things on my face? Maybe, we think that we put on makeup for ourselves to feel good about our image, and perhaps, yes, this is an individual choice that I am making for myself, but do you put on makeup every morning you wake up even if you plan on staying in all day?

Though I struggle with makeup, occasionally obsessing about how I look and my image, I try every day to break from it with sometimes, a productive amount of success (or slim to none to a step backwards). (This could also just be an issue of self consciousness that's imminent in males and females). Regardless, I remember the women who stepped away from what society expected them to be and just.. did the damn thing.


Rosalind Franklin, my science star and moon, my girl to every extreme and the true founder of DNA - I often think of how she spent so many years working for a goal with every intention of achieving it without any distractions. Though she wanted to have children, she knew that she couldn't, because she couldn't fully dedicate herself to both in a manner she wanted. After spending her life racing for the helix and then having her work stolen from her, she died of cancer at the age of 38. Everyone should read about her and roll his/her eyes every time Crick and Watson are mentioned.

(t b c next week! Check out my weekly segment on some truly wonderful wom(xx)n in history!