There are many different terms of this for both genders. Girls have a particular image to keep up. Long, straight hair, skinny, don't leave the house without makeup, make fun of other girls who are "lower" than you, build up the male ego, follow your pack... The list goes on for miles.
Of course, by the time a girl hits a certain age, say around 21, this bends a little. They become more aware of themselves and begin to explore the parts of themselves they were never allowed to travel to. But there are still some things women are expected to stick by, and if you don't, you become a few various words: weird, freak, slut, prude, ugly, bitch... Yet another list that goes on and on.
Guys have less constraints, though they do have them. Boys are taught that they aren't allowed to cry, you are a coward unless you are capable of accomplishing certain, physically demanding tasks, and several others. I don't pretend I know too much about the unfairness society places on men, but I am aware of the pressure they have on them, I do. I was raised with boys. But I was always jealous of the way society uplifts them from a young age, despite the crap that is also expected of them.
Throughout my life, I believed my older brothers were superior to me. Not that my parents made me think this way, but because in my little mind, they were just better than me. And media didn't help. The hero, the savior was always the man.
Boys were stronger; they were fun. And so, I tried hard to be a boy, not in the sexual sense, but in the slight chance that if I acted like one, I too might have some liberation and respect. Boys were free to be themselves. I remember going to ball games as a kid and watching the boys run and play like deer in a field. They were untouchable, and they wouldn't let me play with them, so all I could do was envy that freedom from the sandpit in the playground where the other little girls ran in packs. And eventually, my brothers grew too old to play with their little sister, two years gapping each of us.
But I couldn't become a boy. I knew I would never have that same acceptance that was copiously pumped into the male psyche. Therefore, I spiraled into a depression at a very young age. I was home schooled, but we attended social meetings where we could meet other children our age. And the memories of that are too painful to give much detail, but I was labeled "weird" everywhere I went, ignored and shoved aside. I would run crying to my mother at the end of the day and beg to know why I wasn't normal, and her answer was always that everyone was weird and that it wasn't a bad thing.
I've grown to loath that word: weird, because it's always been used to negatively describe me and all the others who happen think differently, especially here in the south. But don't we all think a little differently? It's only some of us who are brave enough to display it. "Everyone is a little weird."
As I grew older, I had slowly begun to accept this part of me that dominated so much of me. I joined theater when I was 15. There, I was popular with the younger girls because I spoke my mind and made them laugh; they looked up to me and wanted to be like me; they were young enough and not yet scathed by cruel society. Girls my age and older avoided me like the plague. The boys didn't take too kindly to me once they got to know me, because boys are allowed to speak their minds and be themselves, while girls are not, and I broke this timeless rule. One nice boy even said that he was scared of me. I was a strange little girl, I still am. I admired the few other girls who were as well. I had a friend once who was the same as me. She was brash and opinionated, yet sensitive and full of thought. This was emotionally beaten out of her by her friends once she hit 16. Now she's quiet and fake like the rest of them.
Just as I reached 18, I started to get angry. I flipped the middle finger to society's ignorant laws, and the very moment I did, I felt this unforgettable thing. I was like my eyes had been opened and a bright light was pouring into me, making me shine. I felt stronger, my skin was thicker, and my core buzzed with excitement, like I had been set free from being chained down for so very, very long. I began to walk with a purpose. I chopped my hair off and held my head high. The male gender was no longer a trigger for self hate; I began to see them as just other people. Not a stereotype, but fellow humans, just as everyone should be. Just PEOPLE. No two sides inferior or superior, just equal in every way.
I'm beyond hope for being "normal".
Normal is for the weak and close minded. And I thank God every day for the lessons I've learned in my almost 19 years. Everything that happened to me was necessary for me to become who I am today and who I will be become.
And Vine has played an extremely important role in the journey to finding myself. There is something about this phone app that doesn't allow you to be "normal". The vine community welcomes art and creativity and comedy, something I've loved and explored since I was a small child.
Vine gave me/us the ability to finally let out all the years of built up thoughts and ideas. And the places it has taken me and the memories it's given me, I'll take to my grave.
It brings me to tears when a young girl comes to me and tells me that I've inspired her to finally be herself and not care what her friends and society have to say about it. I know how tiring it can be to try to silence yourself for the sake of the crowd. It takes a toll on you in every sense.
My advice to you, don't waste your life trying to be accepted by everyone around you. Love yourself and BE yourself. You will never be happy until you look around you and see everyone equally. No one is better, no one is worse, and you are beautiful and have such potential if you only look beyond the shallow, cultural screen in front of us. Get up and walk away, make your own way in this world. You are important.
It's your life: it's as simple as that.
