Villainization of Femininity

The media I was exposed to as a child taught me to push my femininity so far away that it became unrecognizable for a time. Suddenly, after seeing Sharpay Evans in High School Musical and Regina George in Mean Girls, the feather boas and hot pink shoes in my closet became a strong symbol of character - of being a villain - and I began to look toward all the things that made me different from “that” kind of girl. I no longer embraced my barely blossoming personality, and I grasped for anything to make me stand out among the crowd.

It’s difficult to break away from this way of thinking, and it’s difficult to embrace all the ways we are alike. Being like everyone else is so scary. It’s vulnerable. I can’t count how many times I’ve jumped at the chance to be “not like other girls.” Even in small, insignificant interactions. I avoided admitting that I watched the same movies and tv shows as everyone else, and the media I consumed taught me that I was better than other girls if I wore converse to the school dance instead of the popular strappy sandals. My answer to the “favorite color” question shifted with the popularity of different colors. In middle school, everyone was head over heels for rose gold. However, I decided that even though I too was a lover of rose gold, liking yellow would make me stand out. I was so desperately afraid of revealing that I was like everyone else, I convinced myself to shift my own likes and dislikes.

I’m trying my best to come into my own. To embrace my wise, divinely feminine self who couldn’t possibly be influenced by the thoughts and opinions of others. The nature of this toxic femininity shifted many parts of myself – at such a young age – that it makes me wonder what I’d be like if I was never exposed to this influence. I start to feel vulnerable – even when I like things just because they’re pretty or choose things because they’re aesthetically pleasing.

It turns out that I love the parts of myself that I share with other girls. My traditionally feminine qualities connect me to so many people. I adore getting my nails done in French tips, I love sitting for hours at a coffee shop, and I would positively pee my pants if someone asked me to go for a picnic. I get a little giddy when I have to pick my skirt up to walk up the stairs, and my tinted pink lip gloss makes me feel so confident. It feels unreasonably vulnerable to admit those things, and for so long I deeply believed those were negative attributes. They were things that I would defend if I got called out, things that I didn’t want anyone to see.

In an attempt to move away from toxic femininity, we can stop attacking other women over their traditionally feminine qualities. We can let femininity and feminism live as one. Villainizing femininity is so old. It’s tiring and unsustainable. Being inauthentic for the sake of others is such a deep form of hurting yourself and dimming your light. We are all deserving of connection in those ways we’re all alike, and we are so worthy of finding our little true selves. The little humans that existed before the influence of this feminine villainization.

PHOTOGRAPHED BY CHARLIE NGUYEN WRITTEN BY MALYA FASS DESIGNER AUTUMN SOUCY ART DIRECTORS SISI HUSING & LILLIAN HOTCHKIN MODELS EMMA HALL-LINDEN & SIMONE BAEZA