Facing My Femininity

Image Courtesy: Pinterest

Any 2000s baby remembers how “bimbo” used to be such a heavily loaded term, a word holding disrespect – a derogatory term for women who are deemed stupid or vapid. It was slung around indiscriminately to any woman displaying femininity confidently.

But the use of “bimbo” as an insult has pretty much faded away and been spun around to embody the sentiment that a woman can seem silly or slutty or ditsy or dumb, but still hold value and be deserving of respect. Having grown up in the early 2000s watching protagonists brag about their differences from other girls, and watching tabloids tear down celebrities for their ditsy voices or slutty clothes, the word still looms around in my head often.

My entire childhood, I was the picture-perfect example of the “I’m not like other girls” wannabee. I avoided “girly” clothes, threw myself into academics and pretended I didn’t care about my looks, boys, or makeup, and acted like I hated pink. I thought by making myself into the antithesis of femininity, I would earn more respect. For a long time, this felt like the only solution- the only way I could earn respect. 

I constantly avoided being perceived as a feminine being because I thought that femininity detracted from my personhood, rather than realizing that it was an integral part of my identity. 

As much as I ran from my femininity in the hopes of respect, it never made me any more worthy, it never got me more opportunities, it never gave me a leg up, it just made me a miserable woman dressed in gray, hoping to be seen as more than just a “silly little girl.” Despite my efforts to rebuke the feminine I was still punished for it no matter how hard I pushed it away. I was viewed in the very way I wanted to avoid – as just another stupid woman — masculinizing myself had little effect on the misogynistic prejudice of the real world. 

Regardless of what I wear or say or do, I’ll always be a woman. I can rebuke the feminine, put on airs of masculinity and pretend all I want. But in the end, my femininity is part of who I am. Whether I embrace it or not I’ll still be facing misogyny, so why not do it draped in pink with a smile topping each look?

Image Courtesy: Pinterest

With that sentiment, I finally came around — I realized there’s nothing wrong with pink being my favorite color, wearing short skirts, enjoying pop music or collecting cute things. There’s nothing wrong with being “just like other girls.” The issue I once had with losing respect due to my femininity turned into me being hyper-feminine and earning respect regardless of my femininity – I can prove that one can be hyper-feminine and still deserve respect, subverting expectations. 

Just because I have a high-pitched voice or wear low-cut shirts and have a large chest, doesn’t mean I'm a “dumb slut” or an idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about the real world. It just means I like pink and fun clothes. That's it. Dressing a certain way and speaking with a certain inflection doesn’t say anything about one’s character, intelligence or morality.

I’ll keep wearing my slutty pink clothes and throw around cutesy little phrases in my high-pitched voice, and that doesn’t make me any less deserving of respect than anyone else.

I’m done rejecting my femininity in the name of “earning respect.” It’s honestly so disheartening that, even from a young age, I was under the impression that to be respected I had to present myself in the least feminine manner possible. Even now, I wonder why it is that respect is seen as something so far removed from femininity?

Femininity and personhood are not mutually exclusive. I am exactly like other girls. I love pink, I collect dolls, I listen to Lana Del Rey, I watch rom-coms, whatever— it doesn’t matter. It’s part of who I am, but it doesn’t detract from my depth, my character, my personality or my personhood. I love my hyper-femininity: pink mini skirts and low-cut pink tops. Styling risqué and revealing outfits, adorning myself with pink, bows and lace. 

I’m still a writer, a professional, a corporate cog, even. And I excel at it. I can push through the misogyny-riddled hurdles while accepting these parts of my identity, and move my life and career forward in a way that I’d be happy with myself.

Presenting femininely doesn't make me any less deserving of respect, and I will never adhere to the expectations of society to water down my femininity to earn the respect that should be granted to me as a privilege as it is for men. I will continue wearing short skirts and pink bows, smothering my lips with lip gloss and embodying what some view as shallow and vapid ablutions while working hard to disassemble the patriarchal standards in place for women by subverting the compounding negative expectations of femininity. 

I’m so much more than how I look. My being doesn’t start and end with my chesty outfit or girly voice. Dressing a certain way says nothing of my character or morality. It doesn’t make me easy or stupid, it just means I like low-cut tops and pink mini-skirts, and yeah, I tend to my appearance a lot.

I spent ages trying so hard to set myself apart from “other girls” before I realized that I was just setting us back as a whole. There’s nothing wrong with being just like other girls. Pink is my favorite color, I’m not afraid to wear a revealing outfit, I have a feminine voice and a big chest; I am a “bimbo.” And that doesn’t make me worth any less than the next girl.

Strike Out,

Orlando

Writer: Krizia J. Figueroa 

Editors: Olivia Wagner & Hollis Humphrey

Krizia J. Figueroa is a Copy Editor and Public Relations Assistant for Strike Magazine Orlando. The avowed writer, artist, and fashion enthusiast is obsessed with collecting weird or odd little experiences and turning them into niche diatribes through her writing. Driven by whimsy, she’s honestly just as confused by her life as you are sometimes. But at least she can turn whims into projects, poems, or paintings, for the sake of productivity and professionalism. For a good time, email kriziajf@gmail.com.