Girl Power

The more people I meet, the more I am convinced that there are two types of girls: those who have decided they will navigate this world using their looks and those who have chosen to get by with their abilities. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive – there are certain people who have managed a balance, but the majority of us have made a choice as to what we will favor. That doesn’t mean that pretty girls aren’t smart or talented or that smart and talented girls aren’t pretty. But different girls value different things and this is where the divide begins.
The choice begins when we are kids and I think our parents have a large role in this –I know mine have. My parents have never rewarded me for being cute (my grandparents are a different story). I got positive reinforcement when I was nice to my sister, when I got good grades, when I practiced my flute, etc. Even now, I’m sure they think Julie and I are the most beautiful girls in the world (bless their hearts) but for all intents and purposes, that’s pretty irrelevant. They like us because we are smart and funny and passionate and that’s one of the most secure feelings in the world. My parents never worried too much about what we wore and more concerned with us forming our own opinions. I rocked stirrup leggings, large floral prints, and light up sneakers like a pro and Julie walked out of the house in all sorts of ensembles, with looks ranging from mendicant orphan to Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Clothes were details that had to be dealt with before we got to the good stuff – playing in the tree house, going out to play with Michael and Lauren, rollerblading.
If things proceed like this at home, there is no reason for a kid to change their strategy during elementary school. The more stuff you do well, the more respect and attention will get. Simple. All though elementary school (and high school) I clung to what I could do, whether that was identifying a brontosaurus, naming the home planets of all the Star Wars characters, telling 101 hamburger jokes, or playing soccer at recess. I made friends briefly with the power crew – the girls with the lip-gloss and the boyfriends and the Spice Girls cds. But I was miserable because I didn’t know how to operate in their looks and power driven world (seriously you would not believe the politics of 6th grade clique). The fate of the world seemed to hang on what was appropriate attire for the next dance. I am definitely not saying I was or am above that world. There was/is still an aura of power and allure around that kind of life and the doors that seem to open for people like that. But alas, the power crew thought I was weird, and my family didn’t really like me when I was hanging out with them. And by all definitions, I was just a regular looking kid. I had long brown hair, my teeth were a little askew, and I was kinda floppy and awkward ( but in my own zany way very adorable) –I couldn’t give a sad ,whimpering face and have the world at my feet. Or maybe I chose not to try. If I liked someone I helped them with their homework or tried to get them out in dodge ball – the only way I knew how to get anyone’s attention.
High school continued much the same way. I found a haven in my incredibly supportive friends, in the Spanish department, and the band. The braces, the pimples, glasses, and frizzy hair that puberty had so generously given me gave me a base for a self depreciating sense of humor, which has served me well as far as meeting people and making friends. Now that I am in college, I have hopefully erased some of my pubescent “glow,” but I have never known what it feels like to be the “hot girl” or even what I would need to do to be one. And I finally have loosed myself of the necessity to be that girl and allowed myself to be whatever girl I feel like being that day. My hair usually looks wild and my outfits don’t always coordinate perfectly, but to me that is a reassuring feeling. It means that I have lots of other more important people and things in my life that I need to worry about. I can’t do it all and some days, my appearance suffers. Hats off to you if you can bake a pie for the homeless while deep conditioning your hair – but I can’t multitask like that. My little cousin Lily always reminds me to take it easy and do whatever you feel like. She’s got a long shock of dark hair, loves the Indiana Jones movies and the band Journey, and showed up one Christmas Eve dressed like a unicorn. I am healthy and most days I think I’m pretty fly and Lily helps me remember that that’s all I can ask for.
So what am I getting at? Here in Spain I have been lucky to find lots of great friends- girls who are beautiful but are too busy learning about the world to let that fact take up too much mental space. I like them and they like me because we share a life philosophy. I’d like to think the majority of girls make the decision to care about their inner selves and the world outside of the mall at some point in their lives, but when that occurs varies greatly. But like always, there are many girls here (and at home) that have made the choice not to honor their intellect and concentrate on their tan lines. Now, at this age and in this environment, it sometimes seems like these girls get all the attention, and sometimes they do. And sometimes that feels pretty crappy when you are on the other end of it. Even the smart girls spend way too much time feeling insecure, trying to figure out what they are doing wrong, and wondering when someone will notice them. What I hope happens, is that when one group of girls realizes that their looks will fade, that there is cellulite on their thighs, that there are wrinkles on their neck, and their designer jeans are a little tight on the butt, that the other group of girls will be too busy laughing, creating, helping, hugging, giving, thinking, living, traveling, and contributing to care. But what I also hope is that all girls realize that they are important whether Joe Blow with the backwards Hollister visor and red convertible and the rippling biceps that he gets from pumping iron with the bros decides to care. Oh, and note to Joe Blow: when In doubt, go for the girl wearing her glasses with her hair in a ponytail studying every week in the library, or the girl who asks you how your test went or remembers your housemates’ names or quotes every line of this week’s episode “ The Office” with you – she’s hotter than you think. No, really. Those unicorn costumes have terrible ventilation.