A guy friend once told me that I’m “not like other girls.” He meant it as a compliment, but it left a lump in my throat that made it impossible for me to get my thanks out. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t want to thank him for this so-called compliment at all.
I knew what he meant: you’re not a “girly-girl.” You don’t obsess over nail polish and twirl your hair while smacking pink bubblegum and talking about the latest celebrity gossip. You’re not an airhead. Not like those other girls.
But when did all other girls become airheads? This compliment equates girlhood with vapidity, a mentality I wish we’d left behind in middle school. But it keeps following us, a grown-up (but not any more mature) version of “girls have cooties.”
I spent most of my middle school years buying into the “not like other girls” myth. I rejected pink and didn’t wear makeup and read a lot of books to prove I wasn’t a feminine ninny. I wanted to have mostly guy friends because being friends with girls was “too much drama.” I look back on this time and groan because it’s internalized misogyny at its finest. No girl should feel like she’s in the wrong for being feminine, but it’s a phenomenon that’s much too common.
The worst part about it is that, in an effort to become “one of the boys” so that I wasn’t like other girls, I missed out being friends with other girls for a long time. And, contrary to what this “compliment” would have you believe, other girls are awesome. My girlfriends are one of the greatest parts of my life, and they’re the most exceptional people I know.
Contrary to what this “compliment” would have you believe, other girls are awesome.
I did it because the compliment “not like other girls” forces women into a competition none of us agreed to, where the goal is to lessen our femininity. But girlhood isn’t something I want to break out of, it’s something I want to celebrate. Things we consider ditzy–lipstick, high heels, pretty dresses, too many pillows on the bed–are fun things girls should be able to enjoy without any negative connotations. And if I can love them all and graduate with a higher GPA than the guy who allegedly complimented me, it’s because enjoying girlhood doesn’t make me a ninny.
The truth is, I’m not like other girls. Neither is my sister, or my cousin, or my best friend, or my roommate, or the girl who sat next to me on the subway this morning. We’re all different from each other because—get this—we’re actual people with actual personalities. A subtlety the dude who insists I’m “not like other girls” just can’t grasp.
When I told my guy friend this, he rolled his eyes and told me I was overanalyzing. But language is where our thoughts start. It’s what we use to express ourselves. And what we’re expressing here is a deep-seated disgust for femininity that’s engrained in the words we use every day. It’s about time we changed that.
Read more: Does Our Language Discourage Women?
Have you ever been told you’re not like other girls?
Beautiful, insightful writing. Hits home and sounds true. I’m so glad that I’ve found a group of friends that are “not like the other girl’s” we hang out and play video games,sometimes bake and play sports together. I believe many people struggle with this and your article can provide some comfort and relief on the anxiety brought on by this issue. These words are true gems that I will read and re-read and pass on to all I know.
In my humble opinion the whole “I’m not like other girls” movement should really be called the “I don’t want men to treat me the way they treat other women” movement because that’s what it really is. Women know that a girl who wears makeup is as respectable as a girl who wears none. Women know that a girl who wears makeup is as respectable as a girl who wears none. A woman who started her own law firm is as respectable as a single mom who works in the service industry. A lesbian who has no interest in men is as respectable as a straight girl who loves her boyfriend.
I agree. Women have been extensively shamed for saying “I’m not like other girls” when what they are really saying, maybe without knowing it, is “I’ve heard the way men talk about specific types of women, typically women who do things that they don’t understand or relate to, and I really, really want them to separate me from that and see me as a person who is worthy of being respected.” How much respect a woman gets from men is very rarely indicative of how much she deserves. “I don’t want you to treat me the way you treat other girls, because you treat other girls like shit.”
Depending on the context in which you meet me, you might think I’m a “cool girl,” or you might not. But what’s most important is the way I see myself: a unique woman with my own set of characteristics that can’t be boxed into one trope. And I don’t think it would be particularly “cool” to have to sacrifice who I am. 🙂
This kind of idealization of being different from others leaves us questioning ourselves and who we are in how we can be different from other people, which just leaves us isolated again when instead we could be getting together with some of these “other girls” to eat cheese doodles and talk about books.
This is a really good way of putting it. Looking back on it, I think that’s what others were doing – creating a “brand”. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, until you look back. I don’t hate women and think they’re all horrible. I have some great friends who are awesome people now.
It’s a bit of a vicious cycle. When we embrace how “not like other girls” we are, and we shout it to the heavens on our handy-dandy Instagrams or whatever else we have, we give “nice guys” the impression that it is a compliment to say “you’re not like other girls” when it really shouldn’t be.
*“Nice guys” is in quotations because they are not, in fact, nice guys.
We’re told by the guys who like us that we’re “not like other girls” and by the guys who don’t that we’re “just like other girls.” The guys who like us are trying to compliment us (even if it is terrible because, as Shakespeare taught us, comparisons as compliments are not always the way to go), so we internalize that as being a good thing. We weren’t like other girls, and they liked us because of that, therefore we should embrace our status of “not like other girls” in the hopes that another guy will come along and fall in love with our specialness. Also, one of the insults “nice guys”* like to throw around is “you’re just like the other girls” which we also internalize as a thing where we don’t want to be like “the other girls” because “the other girls” are somehow bad.
What you said resonated so deep within me. What a difference my day would be if I only loved myself deeply and was a lil bit gentle. This will be my purpose in 2016. Thank you for sharing this. Great guidance!
The thing with the “not like other girls” bit is that you are, in fact, like other girls, even if you do not perceive yourself to be like other girls. Because there will be other girls out there who share the same interests with you, even if they’re not as open about it or if they don’t live right next to you. There are also some places in general where being different makes you popular, so long as you are different in the right way. They want to be different in a way that makes them special and separates them from the other girls while also making them somehow superior to the girls who are not different (and who usually end up being bullies in the stories).
I have 4 brothers, so I’ve seen things on both sides of the fence, so to speak, and it’s ridiculous how ‘compartmentalised’ people make things! My gender does not determine my likes and dislikes. The only thing that determines my likes and dislikes are what I like and don’t like!