From a “Not Like Other Girls” Girl to a Feminist

A Story of Internalised Misogyny

“What, are you like, a feminist now or something?” Those are the words my mum says to me whenever I speak to her about any equality issues we face as women. The distaste in these words never seems to fade, no matter how many times I’ve tried to convince her that if she believes in the equality of women - which I know she does - she is a feminist herself.

This is a journey I’ve embarked upon myself since becoming an adult.

Being a teenage girl is one of the greatest and most distressing learning experiences a woman can face in her lifetime. You’re essentially being destroyed and forced to build yourself back up again, piece by piece, over and over again. Even as a 20-something-year-old, I haven’t gotten over that need to reinvent myself regularly - although I choose to believe that now it’s in a much healthier way.

Many of my previous teenage incarnations, were, however, misogynists. They were one of the “not like other girls” girls.

Now, if you don’t know what the “not like the other girls” cultural phenomenon is, or why it’s incredibly problematic, Miranda More writes a truly enlightening piece on The Problem With Saying You’re “Not Like Other Girls”.

The Story of a Misguided Misogynist

Teenage Sam wasn’t like the other girls. She was a gamer. She liked reading and comics and listened to emo and metal music. She wore exclusively t-shirts, jeans and a hoodie and — of course — never, ever wore makeup.

She was also an outcast, rarely spoke at all and was bullied by the other girls — rarely the boys. For someone who was invisible and a target at the same time, it was a lose-lose situation, and she never let herself forget it.

After being intimidated almost exclusively by her own gender, she began to resent it.

And she hated herself, and all women, as a result.

She was guilty of something we all are at that age: naivety. She knew nothing of the world outside of her East London town bubble. Now for context on that youthful naivety, this is the same girl who once said that “piercings and tattoos are only for people in biker gangs” and now has both.

Her internal monologue would sound much like this: “Girls are bitchy. Girls aren’t as smart as boys. Girls are just too much drama. All girls ever do is flirt with boys. And, naturally: ew feminism is just stupid.”

And so began years of internalised misogyny.

Not Alone

Mine isn’t an uncommon story. Not at all. Unfortunately, it’s a result of both society’s expectations of what a woman, or girl, should be and my own personal circumstances, and it took me years to realise that it wasn’t right, but it also wasn’t just me feeling this way.

Side note: if you’re interested in how society’s expectations of what femininity is have created the “I’m not like the other girls” phenomenon, Jordan Theresa has a fantastic video essay covering it.

If so many young girls and women experience these same feelings, the same internalised misogyny, it only creates more bad blood and even worse behaviour that shapes another person’s perception of how women can be. It’s a vicious cycle. Luckily, this is a cycle I’m optimistic can be broken (at least for the most part) as culture changes and evolves with time.

What Changed?

Growing up is one of the most powerful forms of transformation. Just think back to what you were like at 14-years-old (sorry!). That doesn’t mean doing nothing is the answer — it never is. Expose yourself. No, not like how I’m exposing my flaws right here, although writing is one form, and a fantastic one at that. Expose yourself to the world. To its people. Read and listen to other women’s stories, and if like me, you managed to villainise a whole gender, those stories will be what guide you out.

I struggle with the idea of role models. I only ever grew up with fictional characters to aspire to be, and usually from video games, like Lara Croft, a woman created by a man. I realise while writing that just how much that probably affected my perceptions of gender. In the real world, women aren’t created by men to be an idealised version. How could the women in my life ever match up to what I expected of them, what I thought was a good role model? The answer is obvious: they can’t.

Honestly, I don’t know the point at which things changed for me. The day I decided to claim the identity of a feminist and reject the negative perceptions of what that meant and what the people around me think of that. It wasn’t as long ago as I’d have liked, but at least I got here.

It’s empowering to be a part of something, and healthy too. Fighting against who I was, who I am was exhausting and definitely heavily contributed to my mental health issues, but it also conflicted with who I was at my core. I want to see the good in everyone, not fall back on hurtful, inaccurate stereotypes.

I’ve come a long way, but if I’m honest, I’m still very much tackling my internalised misogyny. Unfortunately, it’s not something you can just blink away in an instant or suddenly wake up feeling evolved as a person. I genuinely struggle to maintain friendships with women, not offering them the same benefit of the doubt as I would to my male friends when there’s conflict— and that’s incredibly messed up. I’m also still trying and failing to be like Lara Croft.

And yet, no man can inspire me the way women do (except maybe my fiancé, but then love does make you do crazy things). What we write, what we do, what we can achieve. It fills me with hope for my own life, so why would I ever want to attack or devalue that?