Genitalia Does Not Determine Gender

On January 20, 2018, the second women’s march was held.

Strong, beautiful, capable women filled the streets, wearing their cute, pink pussyhats and wielding signs like, “Anything you can do, I can do bleeding” and “pussy power”. And I’m proud of these women. I am. But looking through these pictures online, there is one question that keeps coming to my mind:

Since when is my vagina (or the colour of it, or the fact that it occasionally bleeds) what makes me a woman?

Because there are a lot of women in this world. And amongst these women, a lot of variety. Some women don’t bleed from their vaginas, for one reason or another. Some vaginas aren’t pink. Some women don’t even have vaginas, because some women were born with penises, and some women chose to keep their penises. And yet, despite all of this variety, these are still women, and these women deserve recognition and validation and basic human rights, as much as any of us.

And, I know, I know; there are a lot of women in the world. It’s difficult and, in some cases, impossible to constantly be inclusive to every single one of them, especially when some issues that the women’s march are trying to gain attention to are specific to certain women (like, say, women’s rights to reproductive health). And the vagina is, to a certain extent, an image to be reclaimed by some.

But if we’re going to move forward with this whole equal rights thing that we’re all hoping for, we need to make sure that we’re being inclusive toward all women. And this idea of equating femininity with vaginas and masculinity with penises is a slippery slope.

I often hear it joked about amongst cis-gendered male company. This idea that having a big penis means that you’re somehow a bigger and better man. This idea that, without a penis, you aren’t a man, that even if a cis-gendered man lost his penis for one reason or another, then – poof! suddenly, he’s a woman, just like that.

Heck, another word for penis is literally ‘manhood’.

And part of striving for equal rights should involve spreading this message that, just because you were born with a penis, that doesn’t mean that you’re a man. And just because you don’t have a penis, that doesn’t mean that you aren’t a man. Some feminists are legitimately trying to do this. And some feminists seem to be taking a page from the same book that all of those men bragging about their big dicks are reading.

Which, you know, would be cool if it weren’t for the fact that transgender individuals really should not be ignored right now. Like, they really, really shouldn’t.

Trans people are four times more likely to live in poverty than the general population due to several workplace issues – including violence and discrimination (trans people also experience homelessness at twice the rate of the general population).

41 percent of trans or gender non-conforming individuals have attempted suicide (compared to 4.6 percent of the general population).

One in two transgender people are raped, and some have even speculated that the statistic might be as high as 66 percent.

In 2017, 28 transgender individuals were murdered in the U.S. – meaning that violence against trans people has actually been increasing (in 2016, 23 trans people were murdered). Nearly all of them were women of colour.

This is the reality of living as a transgender person in North America. This is something that feminists should be talking about – and talking about prominently. I understand that we have other concerns to deal with as well, but we need to make space for this at our marches. Because this matters. This is important. We can’t just ignore it, because it doesn’t fit into our pussy-centric narrative.

And I see your little pussyhats, and they’re very cute. I do not for a second believe that they were made with ill intent, or to exclude anybody from the march. But when we put them on and agree that what unites us as women is the vagina, then we aren’t really being fair or true. What unites us as women is that we all call ourselves women, and we all have to deal with the hardships that comes with that. And it’s a different hardship for everybody. Some women only have to deal with sexism. Some women have to deal with sexism as well as racism. Some women have to deal with sexism, racism, and transphobia, all at once. Some women have to deal with more. And I understand if you don’t relate to that experience because it isn’t your own – but that doesn’t mean that those women aren’t your sisters. That doesn’t mean that those women aren’t suffering, and that doesn’t mean that you can’t learn about their experience so that you can help them.

And, really, all you need to do is learn. Learn, and make sure that you are opening up our marches and our movement to every women out there.

If I lost my vagina tomorrow in some sort of awful vagina-losing accident, I’d still be a woman. Because, end of day, my vagina has absolutely nothing to do with my identity. I identify as a woman because I feel like a woman – end of story. Not because of what’s between my legs (or the fact that it bleeds, or the colour of it, etc., etc.). Genitalia does not define us as much as we have allowed society to make it define us. End of day, it is society that tries to make us think that you can’t be a man with a vagina, or a woman with a penis. And if feminism believes in anything, it is that society can be changed.

Advertisements

The Role of Teenage Girls

When I was born, the doctor took one quick look at me and announced to everyone in the room, “it’s a girl!” and my mother was overjoyed. Because now, she had someone to dress up and make pretty.

For the first twelve years of my life, I was a doll. A little porcelain doll, really, with blonde ringlets and pink bows and dresses made of velvet and lace. I wore white stockings and hair ties and braids. I smiled big, and I batted my long lashes, and I knew I was pretty. I got told that I was pretty from everyone I passed, from strangers, old men in the hallways of my apartment, women who threatened to take me home with them or gobble me up.

Around the age of twelve, however, my prettiness began to fade. I was too tall and too skinny now, built out of awkward proportions and acne. My teeth were full of gaps that made me smile less, or at least smile smaller. I no longer got compared to princesses and fairies, but to hockey players who had taken a hit to the face one too many times.

It was around this time that I became more aware of the comments that were made about that initial announcement, as well; insinuations about all those people who got told “it’s a girl” from the delivery room.

Girls were stupid, I heard. Girls were weak. Girls were vapid and frivolous and vain, and they couldn’t be taken seriously for the life of them.

Well, if that’s the case, I thought, then why would I want to be a girl?

I went up to my bedroom, opened my closet, and ripped out all the dresses of velvet and lace, all the pink bows and white stockings, and I threw it all away. All that I left at that point was black.

And thus began my descent into one of the most universally mocked groups of people in North America: I became a teenage girl.

Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, a lot of my time was spent trying to prove that I was different from them. Because whatever they did, there always seemed to be something wrong with it.

They listened to vapid pop songs made by people without talent who used Auto-Tune for everything. I sort of thought that these songs were fun. Without substance, sure, but they were sort of fun to dance to anyway. Not that I’d let these thoughts occur to me at the time, though, because if they liked that music, then I liked retro music that was totally different from anything they were listening to (retro synth-pop music, but whatever, it’s totally different, man).

They read and watched Twilight, so, of course, I abhorred Twilight, along with everyone else. I didn’t connect the fact that, while the girls my age were ridiculed for liking Twilight, the boys my age were praised for liking Michael Bay’s Transformers movies or the Fast and the Furious franchise. I didn’t notice that they were all equally as stupid and misogynistic, or that Megan Fox was sexualized for a straight male audience just as much as Taylor Lautner was sexualized for a straight female audience. I didn’t question any of this; I just accepted that Twilight was bad because it had poor writing (not because it was linked with teenage girls), while Fast and the Furious was good because it had car chases (not because it was linked with teenage boys).

They took selfies, which made them open-season for widespread mocking, because it obviously meant that they were stupid and vain and self-indulgent, so, of course, I was too good for that.

They drank pumpkin spice lattes, so, of course, I drank green tea.

They caused drama and liked to talk about their feelings. I remained silent.

I wore “I’m not like other girls” proudly across my lips, not because there was anything wrong with the other girls, because I didn’t want to be treated like the other girls.

But I was still treated like them. If I posted one picture of myself on social media, the immediate assumption was that I thought I was so good, and I was so vain, and did I really think that everyone wanted to see that? I still had simple things explained to me like I didn’t understand them. I was still condescended to and shut out of certain male-oriented spaces and sexualized, even when I didn’t dress or act like them. Because the truth is, anyone who demands that you not act like a woman in order to earn respect is not the sort of person who respects any woman.

And, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three, I began to realize that there was nothing wrong with being them, not really.

Taking selfies does not make you any less of a person.

Pumpkin spice lattes do not make you any less of a person.

Listening to boy bands and popular music does not make you any less of a person.

We as a society simply like to judge and criticize anything that is connected to a primarily female audience. And maybe nowadays it isn’t Twilight that gets all of the hate, now it’s movies like the 2016 Ghostbusters reboot or Oceans 8. If young women have the opportunity to enjoy something or see themselves in it, then the knee-jerk reaction that society seems to have is to belittle it or call it stupid, or at the very least, to hold it to a much, much higher standard that anything connected to a primarily male audience.

And especially when you’re growing up and still trying to find your identity, like teenage girls are, what this creates is a need to distance yourself from… yourself. You try to change to please people. You refuse to enjoy things because you don’t want to be mocked and belittled. You watch your every movement, try to make sure that you can be considered respectable and good. And despite all of this, you still fail.

So when you reach adulthood, you have two choices: you can continue to enforce this idea that the things teenage girls do are stupid. You can keep chasing this mythical idea of becoming a woman worthy of a misogynist’s respect, except that will never happen. All you will accomplish is denying parts of yourself, and making other women feel bad about themselves.

Or, on the other hand, you can just say fuck it and be yourself.

I chose the latter.

I wear make-up and dance to pop music and dye my hair pink, all while sipping on my Starbucks brand frappuccino, thank you very much. I don’t go out of my way to do these things or anything; I just do them without guilt now.

And we should be allowed to do these sorts of things without guilt. We should be allowed to try new things without fear of being judged. We should be allowed to zone out to a mindless, stupid movie that appeals to us without being told that we’re wrong. We should be allowed to enjoy things, actually, truly enjoy them, so long as they don’t hurt anyone.

And nothing that I have listed in this article hurts anyone. What hurts people is a misogynistic society that immediately assumes that, just because someone was born to the words, “it’s a girl”, then that automatically means that they are vapid and stupid. That is what I truly think is wrong.

I Am A Feminist. Not A Humanist.

Let me begin this discussion by saying that I am a feminist. I support and believe in feminism. I think that feminism is extremely important and multi-layered, and that supporting feminism works in the favour of women, men, and gender non-conforming people everywhere. And, by extension, I believe that everyone should identify as a feminist as well.

Not everyone agrees with me. And I’m not just talking about your typical overt misogynist who believes that all women should be barefoot and pregnant and all men should be burly, tough-guy, macho-men lacking emotion.

In 2014, actress Shailene Woodley, who has in the past discussed women’s issues, caused controversy when she refused to call herself a feminist. When asked by Time Magazine if she considered herself a feminist, she said, “no because I love men”. She then continued on to say, “my biggest thing is really sisterhood more than feminism”. This then prompted many to ask, does she even know what feminism is? After all, the dictionary definition of feminism is, “the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes”. Loving or hating men has nothing to do with it; it isn’t about that. It’s about equality, by nature.

But who cares about the dictionary definition, right? As anyone who has studied linguistics can tell you, the definition of words has a tendency to shift and change over time (fun fact: the word ‘awful’ originally meant something more akin to ‘awesome’). So is it possible that what Woodley is reacting to here is a shift in what feminism means? Because she isn’t the only woman who appears to believe in equal rights between the genders, and yet doesn’t identify as a feminist.

Actress Susan Sarandon, for example, has stood up for women’s reproductive rights and other human rights issues over the years, and yet she will not call herself a feminist. Instead, she refers to herself as a ‘humanist’, saying that she finds it “less alienating to people who think of feminism as a load of strident bitches”. And she is not the first woman (or individual, more generally) who I have heard come up with other terms for supporting equal rights, like “humanist” or “equalist”.

And yet, I still call myself a feminist. And I still fully believe that everyone should identify as a feminist. And why?

Well, first of all, I want to get the least important issue out of the way first: humanism is already a thing. It has nothing to do with gender equality, but rather takes a more human-centric view of the world, as opposed to a more theological view.

There. And now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about feminism more specifically.

Feminism is a movement that has fallen under a lot of criticism, and a lot of these criticisms are the reason why some women have chosen to distance themselves from it.

For example, let’s return to Susan Sarandon’s claim that feminism is “alienating”. Why is it alienating? Well, perhaps the reason for that is the prefix – “fem”, meaning woman. There are many people out there who have asked that, if feminism is truly for everyone, then why is it called “feminism”? Shouldn’t it be something more inclusive?

Well… no. No, I don’t think it should be.

Why is it called “feminism”? Because the sort of equality that feminism fights for is an incredibly gendered type of equality – so, of course, it makes sense that the name for the movement would refer to gender. And not only any gender, it refers to the female gender, which is the one that has, historically, been most obviously harmed by gender inequality.

That isn’t to say that the patriarchy doesn’t harm men. It does. But generally speaking, it is women who have been more overtly shunned, marginalized, and looked down upon because of it. Changing the name so that it doesn’t refer to women anymore ignores this history and cultural context.

And, I would argue, it is because of the patriarchy that many men feel uncomfortable identifying with a movement that refers to women in its very name. The patriarchy, after all, always presents femininity as something vapid, stupid, and lesser. Men are encouraged to cast off their feminine side, while women are mocked and belittled, creating a culture where the majority of insults that are thrown at men refer to them as, somehow, feminine – sissy, queer, girl, etc. Of course men don’t want to identify as feminists, if feminist means woman and women are inferior.

But it is exactly this kind of mentality that feminism is trying to fight. So changing the name so that men feel less alienated sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? We are trying to create a culture where men would feel absolutely no shame in being a feminist, even if it does contain the prefix ‘fem’. After all, there is nothing wrong with being a woman, and there is nothing wrong with supporting women.

As famed feminist scholar bell hooks once said, “feminism is for everybody”.

But part of this distance from the term is born from a bit more than that, as well. Generally speaking, feminism has been accused of plenty of unsavoury things – such as man-hating, or trying to strip men of their masculinity, and therein lies Shailene Woodley’s comment that she isn’t a feminist because she doesn’t hate men.

And to argue against this, I am tempted to return to the dictionary definition, as many feminists before me have done. But, as I pointed out before, the dictionary definition means little, doesn’t it? So, instead, I’m going to focus on what feminism has actually done.

Recently, feminists have been involved in such movements as #metoo and #timesup, both of which deal with supporting victims of sexual assault or harassment. Feminists have been fighting for women’s right to reproductive health, fighting rape culture, and combating the wage gap. Some of this might indirectly relate to men, but for the most part, the focus is on women. And even when men are considered in feminism, it is usually in an attempt to better their lives as well – allow men the chance to explore their emotions, move away from toxic outlets for masculinity such as violence, and admit to vulnerability when they have been hurt or victimized.

In fact, feminists have been trying to distance themselves from this image of man-hating for years now. As actress and feminist Emma Watson once said, “The more I have spoken about feminism, the more I have realized that fighting for women’s rights has too often become synonymous with man-hating. If there is one thing I know for certain, it is that this has to stop.”

Feminists have been dismissed as ‘feminazis’, and yet nowhere in the world, at any point in history, have men been forced into concentration camps by evil feminists. So why do we live with these assumptions?

Well, I, for one, am tempted to side with the argument that dismissing feminists as ‘man-haters’ is, quite simply, a way to dismiss the movement en masse. It is a way to say that what we fight for doesn’t matter, that it isn’t true equality. But I disagree; I have never seen anything, in all my years of identifying as a feminist, that indicates that the entire movement, en masse, does not desire equality.

Now, that isn’t to say that all feminism is created equal. As I mentioned before, feminism is a complex, multi-layered issue, and there are many different types of feminists. There are intersectional feminists, radical feminists, liberal feminists, and so on and so forth (for the record, I tend to aim toward intersectional feminism). I do encourage you to read up on the differences between all these theories in your own time (many of these differences are related to arguments about what equality means, and who women should strive to be equal to, which is much too intricate a discussion for me to begin here). But the simple fact that feminism is such a complex issue, with such extensive history and intense academic research put into it proves to me that it is not a movement to be discarded so easily. This is a movement with a solid groundwork, with so much history and importance, that it seems sort of ridiculous to just cast all that aside in an attempt to distance ourselves from some made-up criticisms that don’t even truly reflect what the movement is.

Historically speaking, feminism, as an umbrella movement, has been the term that we use to refer to the fight for gender equality. It is a term that states that there is nothing wrong with being a woman. It is a term that states that men should be comfortable with the feminine, and women should be allowed to inhabit spaces that have traditionally been reserved for the masculine. It is a term that is backed up by history and culture and academic research, all with the intent of creating a more equal, loving, and accepting society.

To quote Maya Angelou, “I am a feminist. I’ve been a female for a long time now. It’d be stupid not to be on my own side.”

Why I Wear Make-Up Every Day

We as a society have a lot of different ideas when it comes to women and make-up.

“Men don’t like a lot of make-up, you know.”

Cool. If that’s the case, I recommend that they stick to a bit of light foundation, maybe some mascara.

Oh, wait, you mean, they don’t like a lot of make-up on me. Well, who cares? I’m not wearing make-up to impress men. I haven’t done anything with the express intention of impressing men en masse for as long as I can remember.

I first started wearing make-up when I was about ten years old, and I started to find an interest in the more alternative, punk, goth, or “emo” scene. I cut all my hair off, dyed what was left dark, and started wearing some serious Pete Wentz-style eyeliner. It… wasn’t a good look. For anyone.

But my mom, who was a casual make-up artist, was delighted to see me take an interest in make-up, even if it was a rudimentary interest. She encouraged me to try out different looks, different styles, and at first I found it frustrating. Just like any art form is frustrating before you get the hang of it. Because that’s what make-up is, I soon learned: an art. You have to know your canvas. You have to understand where the light hits your face, what will open your eyes up, what will make them appear smaller, what will make you glow in the right way and what will make you glow in the wrong way.

I learned a lot. In fact, I’m still learning.

But, I have to admit, my favourite thing to do with make-up, to this day, is to go a little bit alternative with it. I like to explore the styles of Amy Winehouse or Joan Jett. I like to play. I like to explore.

It has nothing at all to do with men.

“But aren’t you a feminist? How can you rationalize being a feminist and wearing make-up?”

Simple: I just do.

I wear make-up of my own choice. Nobody is forcing me to do it. In fact, I enjoy it; applying make-up is the way that I relax before the start of the day. Without it, I feel rushed and clumsy. And wearing make-up is part of what makes me feel put-together, powerful, a warrior woman with winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.

And I understand: there is a feminist argument that states that women are encouraged to wear make-up by the patriarchy, and as a result, the simple act of a woman putting make-up on is playing into patriarchal expectations. But to that, I say two things: 1) my body (or, well, face in this instance), my choice, and 2) I don’t think that I’m necessarily playing into patriarchal expectations of how a woman should look. If I were doing that, I’d have to grow out my mohawk and get rid of my tattoos.

“But when you stop wearing make-up, you feel so much freer!”

Well, I’m glad that you found that when you stopped wearing make-up. I hope that you continue to feel free. But that just wasn’t my experience.

Because, despite popular opinion, I can actually leave the house without make-up on. In fact, I’ve done it before, and I always felt… half-dressed. Underwhelming. Less… me, for lack of a better way to word it. The make-up isn’t me, of course, but it’s part of how I choose to present myself. It’s fun, it’s a symbol of my artistic side, my rebellious nature come out to play. I don’t feel free without it, I feel naked and awkward. I feel the way that anyone would feel if they were forced to dress like someone else for a day.

And I’m not trying to put down women who don’t want to choose make-up. I’m not trying to tell you that you’re wrong if you don’t. All that I’m trying to say is that there are multiple perspectives, and mine is equally valid.

“Why don’t you try not wearing make-up for a day? It’s like you’re hiding behind a mask.”

Only if you choose to see it that way. Make-up is not a mask; it does not change who I am, fundamentally, as a person. It does not hide me. It does not keep me any more or less safe than I would be without it. I am not trying to make you think that I’m something I’m not when I wear it; I know that you know my eyelids are not actually gold (or, at least, I hope you do).

We never make statements like this about any other style-oriented choice. We never ask someone to “try not wearing a shirt for a day” because “I don’t really know what your torso looks like, do I?” And if we did tell someone to do this, then we’d all see this statement for what it is: an odd and slightly invasive request.

Because, personally, I choose to wear make-up. And some women choose not to wear make-up. And both of these types of women are perfectly valid, with their own reasons for doing as they do (trust me; I focused on why I wear make-up here, but I can understand why someone wouldn’t too. I wouldn’t if I didn’t enjoy it, because it costs money and it takes time).

But we get so caught up in what women should be doing with make-up that we end up trying to force a constant stream of messages down women’s throats.

“You’d look better without make-up, you know.”

“You’d look better with a little make-up.”

“Who are you trying to impress with that make-up?”

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you, are you sick? Oh. That’s just your face.”

No, no, no, you know what: who cares? Make-up is not a universal rule that can be applied to all women; it is an individual choice. Some women like it. Some women don’t. And both are fine. The only thing that isn’t fine is trying to tell women what they can and can’t do with their own bodies, or making unfair assumptions about them because of their choices.

 

The Judgement of Women

There is no one right way to be a woman.

There are some women in this world who cannot imagine anything more rewarding than motherhood. Women whose happy ending involves that devoted husband, that stable home, that white picket fence. Women who would prefer to stay at home and take care of their kids than go out and work. Women who identify with the terms ‘wife and mother’, ‘stay-at-home mom’, and ‘housewife’, without any qualms or objections.

And then there are women in this world who don’t want any of that. Women who never really saw themselves as mothers, never really wanted any of that. Women who could not imagine anything more rewarding than their career. Women who never felt the need to attach themselves to a single partner for their entire lives, who were perfectly content with their own love for themselves and their passions.

And then there are women in this world who fell somewhere in between these two spectrums. Women who want both the career and the family. Women who want the children, but not the husband. Women who knew that the white picket fence was never an option for them, but worked their ass off all their life to get as close to it as possible.

All of these women, every single one of them, are valid.

There are some women in this world who enjoy wearing make-up, and dresses, and high heels. There are some women in this world who enjoy going fresh-faced, wearing oversized sweaters or yoga pants. All of these women are valid.

There are some women in this world who enjoy going out to party every single weekend. There are some women in this world who would honestly rather die, and spend their free time with a book, a cat, and some hot cocoa. All of these women are valid.

There are women who wear mini skirts, women who wear hijabs, women who kiss boys, women who kiss girls, women who kiss everybody, women who play video games, women who do make-up tutorials online, women who sing, dance, play baseball, tell jokes, get tattooed, get pierced, shave their armpits, don’t shave their armpits, shave their head, grow their hair long, do every goddamn thing that this world has to offer, and Jesus Christ – can I stop now?

My point is, there are a lot of different kinds of women out there. And all of these different kinds of women enjoy different things. And. All. Of. These. Women. Are. Valid.

Why am I saying this?

Because we as a society have this tendency to get really, really judgemental when it comes to the behaviour of other people – particularly, it seems, with women. And we all have our own reasons for doing so.

I’ve heard this judgement presented in the obviously-old-fashioned-sexist way, wherein it’s super obvious. The old mentality of, “well, she’s a girl. She shouldn’t be doing that.” This idea that women are supposed to procreate, like that’s the whole purpose to their existence (it isn’t. Trust me; people don’t have purposes to their existence, unless they’re purposes that the individual themselves has decided on and says – like an artist saying “I feel like I was meant to paint”). This idea that women are supposed to be attracted to men, and they’re supposed to cater to their every whim and need as though their husbands are children that can’t take care of themselves.

I’ve heard this judgement presented in the case of slut-shaming, where groups of people will get together and whisper about how that girl over there should really be wearing more. I mean, why doesn’t she respect herself more, am I right? (Here’s a thought: maybe she isn’t the one not respecting her. Maybe she wore it because she knows she can, and she feels good in it, and your criticisms of her choice aren’t helping anyone).

I’ve heard this judgement presented in the case of upholding a phony, restrictive definition of feminism, wherein a woman can’t wear make-up, shave her armpits, be in a relationship with a man, or wear high-heels without being a ‘slave to the patriarchy’ (and, yes, I know that there is a larger discussion that can be had here, about how women are encouraged to do these particular things by the patriarchy. But at the same time, if she’s aware of the discussion and still chooses to do it, then isn’t that her choice? Shouldn’t her choice be respected, as a full-grown woman capable of thinking for herself?).

I’ve even heard this judgement presented as a way for women to distance themselves from “other women”. To say that they aren’t like “other girls”; they like beer and sports and trucks, not all of that stupid, vapid stuff that “other girls” are into (question: why is it that only traditionally feminine pass times are dismissed as stupid and vapid? And why are we automatically assuming that all other girls are into the same stuff?).

There are probably hundreds of other ways that this habit of judging women for their behaviour is presented, because it is so deeply engrained in our society that we do it all the time, even if we know that we shouldn’t.

And we shouldn’t. We really shouldn’t. Because there is no one right way to be a woman. There is no wrong way to be a woman. As long as you identify as a woman, then you are valid, and you deserve to be treated as valid.

We spend too much time and energy and judgement; telling other people the right and wrong way to live, even if the ways that they live don’t actually hurt us in the long run. We become offended merely because of the way that the other has chosen to exist. And that isn’t fair to anybody. It most certainly isn’t fair to the women who knows how she wants to live, who knows exactly what makes her feel comfortable and happy, and yet is constantly judged and told she is wrong for doing so.

Women are intelligent and rational beings, with the ability to choose what is best for them. And women should be treated as such, whether that be in the case of a larger life decision, like whether or not to have children, or a smaller life decision, like what clothes they decide to wear that day. Either way, these are her choices to make, her life that she is leading. And we should all seek to empower her, to help her become the best person that she can be. Not tear her down and tell her how to live.

Women, we need to support our sisters. We need to help each other to live our best lives, and we need to do it together.

And there are so many ways that we can do this. All we have to do is change our judgement.

Instead of saying, “look at what she’s wearing”, we can say, “you look nice today!”

Instead of saying, “I’m not like other girls”, we can say, “oh, I’m into this thing!”

Instead of giving a judgement, we can give a compliment. Because while not every woman is the same, every woman deserves to be complimented.

Support women who do not often receive support. Love women who do not feel loved. Because our life choices, our hobbies, our clothes – none of that make us worthy of dismissal.