I know, I know.
Teenagers are the worst. I myself refer to them on a daily basis as hooligans.
There’s a middle school behind my house, so I see their punkass little faces
every day. I also used to work at an ice cream shop near said middle school.
Trust me, teenagers, both male and female, are the worst.
But if you really think
about it, teenage girls are actually pretty amazing.
I WAS A SAD TEENAGER
ONCE
One could argue that
the level of sadness I felt as a teenager was slightly high for the average
teenage girl, but the fact that I never thought so was a major problem. It took
me seven years of deep emotional troubles before I sought professional help.
This was because I thought it was normal to feel worthless as a teenage girl. I
honestly believed I was supposed to be moody and insecure. This is what
television, film, and dare I say it, books had taught me.
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| Little old me in August of `03 (11 years old), with one of my aunt's 368 badass collies, Hank (RIP, big guy). Oh, how simple of a time it was, when a girl could be obsessed with dolphins (I still have that shirt) and wear really high white sports socks and love herself still. |
WHY IS MY UTERUS SO
HORRIBLE?
Oh, I know; the “blaming
mass media” argument again. But it’s true. There’s this generalized idea of
what a teenage girl is in our culture as a whole. Last summer, Always released
this amazing video PSA called #LikeAGirl, where they asked several young people
to depict what running, throwing, etc “like a girl” looks like. It’s interesting to me how we
use comparisons to girls as insults.
In my first year of
CEGEP (if you don’t know what that means, click the link), I took my very first
women’s studies class. It was an introductory class on feminism. While the
teacher had a generally much more radical view of the world than I did, it was
then that I first fell in love with the concept of being a woman. One of our
assigned readings was Full-Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti. Here’s a glimpse into its genius (this is just
from chapter one):
“What’s
the worst possible thing you can call a woman? Don’t hold back now. You’re
probably thinking of words like slut, whore, bitch, cunt (I told you not to
hold back!), skank. Okay,
now, what are the worst things you can call a guy? Fag, girl, bitch, pussy. I’ve
even heard the term “mangina”. Notice
anything? The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl. The worst thing you
can call a guy is a girl. Now tell me that’s not royally fucked up.”
It’s interesting how
being a “man” is considered a compliment, but acting “like a girl” is an insult
across the board. Notice also that we don’t really use the word “woman” as an
insult. We focus on demonizing young women. And as Jessica Valenti says, it’s
royally fucked up.
I AM A RECOVERING
TEENAGE GIRL
In the Always ad I
mentioned earlier, they asked those same questions to pre-pubescent girls, all
of whom ran, kicked, fought and hit at full force, completely care-free. Yet
girls just a few years older depicted the stereotype of the flailing, high-maintenance
shallow girl. I’m still baffled by what a few years can do to one’s perception
of the world, of others and of oneself. Being a teenage girl
really sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
Speaking of the Always brand...Oh, yes, I am about to talk about periods. Boys, avert your eyes.
Ain’t nothin’ more terrifying
than basic biological functions.
Somewhere around
thirteen years old, your uterus decides it’s gonna give you the option to grow
a baby, if you want to. Now, if you don’t want to, as (hopefully) most thirteen-year-olds do, said uterus is gonna reward you with monthly bloody discharge and terrible cramps. ‘Cause
nothing motivates a girl more into not becoming a teenage mom like pain, mood
swings and constant aversion to light-colored pants. On top of starting that
complete load of hormonal garbage, people start to completely disregard your
feelings/opinions by chalking it up to “being that time of the month”. I cannot
count the number of times people (and by people I mean boys) have accused me of
being on my period any time I had some kind of heated opinion and/or emotional
breakdown. Essentially, what I learned really quickly was that because of a
biologically-occurring phenomenon that not only did I have no control over, I
didn’t even want to partake in, my feelings and opinions did not matter.
Another thing happens
to teenage girls, that is arguably worse than periods: teenage boys. (Oh, wow,
okay, surprise, I’m not defending them. I can’t. Maybe it’s 'cause I’ve never been
a teenage boy, but I have a hard time finding sympathy for them. I understand
it’s not their fault that they’re all morons, but still.) While they also have
their own hormonal garbage to deal with, becoming a teenage boy, from what I
understand, is the first step on the road to manhood, which is something
everyone (even women) are supposed to aspire to. This is also the time of a man’s
life where he’s supposed to learn about how to treat women. Which explains a
lot of my self-esteem issues in high school.
Now, I was never picked
on by boys in high school because of my appearance. By all accounts, I was
basically invisible to boys in high school. I did, however, see the kind of
girls that did get attention from boys. And sadly, the only thing I wanted more
in high school than a boyfriend was my own room. I definitely compared myself
to other girls in my class, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one doing it. This
competition for boys’ attention definitely created animosity between different “kinds”
of girls. And in the immortal words of Ms. Norbury (portrayed by basically the
queen of the world Tina Fey), “You all have got to stop calling each other sluts
and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores.”
Now, I am not saying
that it’s teenage girls’ fault that teenage boys make them feel bad about
themselves. I’m not even saying it’s teenage boys’ fault that teenage girls
feel bad about themselves. (Oh hey look, I’m kind of defending teenage boys!) I’m
saying it’s kind of all of our faults. It’s just a vicious circle, and somehow,
it starts right around puberty. And I have a theory why.
RICH WHITE GUYS ARE
SCARED OF TEENAGE GIRLS
Think about it. Who is
the most successful band of all time? The Beatles. Who helped make them that
way? Teenage girls. Yes, from a fancy music person point of view, I’m sure there
are other arguments that would explain their success and longevity. But if you
think about it, they were the original Boy Band. Not a boyband, but a hysteria-inducing,
used-panty-receiving, riot-causing Boy Band. And what fueled all this? The
raging hormones of millions of teenage girls. (Not so lame now, these hormones,
huh, men?). The raging hormones of millions of teenage girls made a whole bunch
of people a whole hell a lot of money, and they still do today.
It’s interesting that
no one is ever looked down upon for liking The Beatles, yet somehow I am often
mocked for liking One Direction. They are but another example of an insanely
popular (and rich) band that has become a household name and a worldwide phenomenon
thanks to teenage girls. A few years ago, the Biebs was the same way. Before
him, the Jonas Brothers. I’m still not sure why we look down on those acts.
(okay, maybe I get why we look down on Bieber. He’s a giant tool.) Since I was
a teenage girl, I have liked these “teeny bopper” style acts, and honestly, for
a short while, I felt shame in admitting it. I attended a One Direction concert
last summer, and while my friend and I told ourselves we’d act like mature fans
(I was twenty-one at the time, and she was nineteen), within three and a half
seconds, we were screaming louder than the twelve year-olds. I think that was
the moment I stopped being ashamed of liking what I like, because I realized
something really important: in a world overflowing with images and voices and
hormones making teenage girls feel like shit, we should celebrate and thank
those who can lift them up. No matter how tight their pants are.
So the way I see it,
the world is so afraid of the massive influence of teenage girls, that they
have to crush them into a fine powder at a young age so they grow up into
confused, weak women. I’m happy to report it seems to be working less and less.
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| The only living creature who's love and approval I desperately want (other than my own) nowadays is this little lady's. WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME, POLLY? WHY? |
WHO RUNS THE WORLD?
I can’t say I’m as
self-actualized and self-confident as I’d like to be, but when I look back on
that sad little girl I was at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and so on, I’m
relieved. I survived; not without a good dozen or so scars, but I survived.
Mindy Kaling talks a bit about our obsession as a culture with the idealism of
being a teenager, as it being the best times of our lives, which I won’t quote here
(just go read the damn book, it’s life-changing), but she brings up a really
excellent point. At twenty-two years old, I’m hardly an adult, but is adulthood
that bad? I honestly can’t think of any time of my life being worse than my
teenage years.
All I know is, I am
powerful, because I survived being a teenage girl. If you can get through it,
even if it takes everything you’ve got, you’re pretty damn amazing in my eyes.
Think about it this
way: Beyoncé was a teenage girl once. And now she’s, you know, Beyoncé.
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