This is a story about real women.
Real women are strong, independent, motivated, ambitious, and they know no limit. They set their minds to something and charge until ultimately, they get what they want. Real women voice up, are unapologetic, smart, and sexy because they are who they are. They are fearlessly comfortable in their own skins, and they know their worth is defined not by patriarchal society, but by themselves. We as the turn-of-the-century girls are taught to be everything boys can be, and more.
So I be. I be the real woman that I am raised to be. I get into arguments and arm myself with logic and values. I put on a thick skin I feel comfortable in, and I cancel out the negativity of the world against females and proclaim I am worth a mountain of diamonds. I don’t let others, especially men, dictate my course of life and change the way I am. Because I, am a real woman.
Except… maybe not. The truth is, I sometimes feel weak. I often don’t feel so worthy, let alone feel like a “mountain of diamonds.” At times, I feel anxious to give someone a piece of my mind, and often I behave the way people around me want me to in order to avoid conflicts. Sometimes I feel incredibly insecure about my body, so I stand in front of my closet for hours to pick out an outfit that covers all my imperfections. Often, I am fearful, and certainly do not feel sexy. And sometimes I do want to depend on my boyfriend, and I have made my past relationships change me in ways that would make me a “better girlfriend.” Have I been a fake woman all those times? Am I less of a real woman?
Here’s the truth. The uncomfortable truth, if you may. There is no such thing as a real woman. Why? Because there is no such thing as fake women. You do not have to be strong to be real, and you certainly do not have to have high self-esteem. The society tells us to keep our chin up and stay real, but they fail to see that the two are not mutually inclusive, nor are they causal. Women do not have to be confident to be real. The authenticity of female identity is not a topic of interrogation according to self-esteem and quite frankly, innate personality. I can be as passive and insecure as I am, and nobody has the right to tell me that I am not genuine because I do not fit yet another definition of “real women” the society attempts to cage me into.
I am who I am. I am insecure, scared, and often weak. I battle my own demons that are within me. I am dependent, and I crave social approval. And if those are what make me a fake woman — then fine, I am fake; but I bet everyone is.