Women are usually divided into two categories.
The Girly Girl or the Tomboy.
If you don’t like feminine clothes then you’re automatically a tomboy. If you hate getting your hands dirty then you have to be a girly girl.
But what if you’re both? Or worse, neither of them?
I was in my Biology I class when one of my classmates asked what I was.
I looked at him and asked “What do you mean?”
“You know,” he replied, “Are you emo? Goth? What?”
I stared at him and realized that I didn’t have an answer. Or, at least, an answer that would satisfy him.
Let me put this situation into perspective. It was my first year of high school and this guy was asking what, not who, I was.
Because I’m still in the process of self-discovery, I refuse to label myself in any way. Or, at least not with the ones that society has created.
If I know the answer to a question then I’m a know-it-all.
If I disagree with the popular opinion then I’m a weirdo.
If I don’t like sports the I’m a weakling.
If I refuse to cheat or do anything that goes against my morals, then I’m a bitch.
What about calling me intelligent instead?
Or someone with moral integrity?
Why must there be requisites for something as complicated as an identity?