I Might Be a ‘Girly Girl,’ But I Can Still Hold My Own

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By: Maya Thompson

Updated: June 20, 2023
Originally Published: June 12, 2023

Bright pink is my ultimate favorite color. This has been the case for nearly my entire adult life. I’m not talking about soft pink or muted rose; I’m all about vibrant hot pink, Barbie pink, the brightest pinks you can find. That’s my vibe.

I adore dresses with flared skirts, floral patterns, and ballet flats. The more feminine, the better. In my leisure time (and for many special events), you can find me in my kitchen with my pink mixing bowls, whipping up chocolate chip cookies or funfetti cupcakes adorned with homemade frosting.

By the usual standards of hobbies and fashion, I’m definitely a girly girl.

But here’s the thing: I’m not someone you want to mess with. If it comes down to it, I will absolutely defend myself, so don’t underestimate my capabilities — even if I’m wearing pink and offering you a sprinkle cupcake.

I’m tough as nails, and I’ll never understand why people so often misjudge women and girls based on superficial traits like color preferences and hobbies. Just because I love pink doesn’t mean I’m any less strong or capable.

As a child, I was fascinated by dolls, but I was equally drawn to race cars and Legos. One of my favorite toys was a cap gun. I never saw my dolls as just “girl toys”; they were simply toys I enjoyed. They never fit the traditional roles assigned to Barbie in the ’90s. My Barbies were rockstars, presidents, and leaders in their own right, all while sporting dresses and pink high heels.

My parents never equated femininity with weakness, so I grew up believing there was nothing women couldn’t achieve.

During my college years, I had my own apartment for a year, and since I didn’t have many friends, I handled everything on my own. When I built my toolkit, every item was pink. I had a pink-handled hammer, pink screwdrivers, everything wrapped up in a pink box. I loved it. I proudly assembled my furniture solo, after lugging heavy boxes up four flights of stairs. Once I completed my bed frame (and moved a full-size mattress across the room without any help), I collapsed onto my unmade bed, sweaty and breathless, feeling ready to take on anything. I didn’t need anyone’s help — I could depend on myself. It was empowering.

For a long time, I hesitated to embrace my feminine side. There was a period when femininity was viewed as patriarchal, implying that if you were feminine, you were somehow anti-feminist. One day, I decided to say, “Forget that,” and wholeheartedly embrace my love for pink and all things girly that bring me joy.

There’s this meme that circulates every few months, particularly during election times, stating something like, “Teach your daughters to worry less about fitting into glass slippers and more about shattering glass ceilings.” While I appreciate the message of encouraging girls to pursue their dreams, the underlying notion that we must reject femininity to achieve success bothers me.

I grew up with Disney princesses and adored them, even as an adult. It frustrates me that society often tells girls that enjoying fairy tales is wrong. I firmly believe in happy endings and fairy tales, and I don’t think that belief holds me back or makes me submissive to anyone.

Absolutely, fairy tales are fictional, but what’s the harm in believing? My love for these stories doesn’t diminish my ambition to be a strong, independent woman who can fend for herself.

I can wear my glass slippers while breaking through those glass ceilings.

This isn’t a one-or-the-other scenario. We need to stop teaching girls (and, by extension, boys) that women who enjoy things deemed feminine are somehow less capable than those who do not. This is simply false. We are just as strong and competent as women who may not gravitate towards traditionally feminine interests.

My strength isn’t solely physical. Since becoming a mother, my inner strength has multiplied exponentially. Raising a child mostly on my own has proven to me that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to. I walked away from a long-term relationship because I realized I deserved better, setting an example for the girls in my life to know they deserve nothing less than the best post-motherhood. I’ve taken charge of my career while also balancing my talents to support myself and my child — all while rocking pink and other “girly” attire.

Though I don’t have a daughter to impart these lessons to, I have a son whom I am raising to understand that women are complex and shouldn’t be pigeonholed. I demonstrate this daily in small ways. I show him that pink is just a color, not restricted to girls or boys but a color everyone can enjoy. One of his favorite items is his Doc McStuffins water bottle. The picture is nearly worn off, but the pink plastic remains. One day on the playground, another child saw him with it and asked, “Why is he drinking out of a pink water bottle? Pink is for girls.” I smiled and replied, “Pink is not just for girls. Pink is super cool. It’s for everyone.” And it truly is.

So, if you’re looking for me, I’ll be over here, breaking glass ceilings in my glass slippers.