EMBRACING MY FEMININITY: CHALLENGING EXPECTATIONS OF WOMANHOOD

From a young age, I saw that women are encouraged to aspire to lives far smaller than what we can truly achieve. Choosing not to marry or have children comes at a cost, and society treats me as if I am failing for it.

Completing my undergraduate degree in philosophy and beginning my master’s in political theory has led me to engage deeply with questions about my own sense of meaning and purpose. Taking a deep dive into my childhood, I always had a vast imagination and was drawn to bigger questions about the meaning of life. I realised I didn’t want to be remembered for how well I conformed to gendered expectations, but for the impact I made, the knowledge I acquired, the work I was passionate about, and the depth in which I experienced the world.

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My personal desires for my future were heavily influenced by my upbringing. Having a strong and disciplined working mother who has always been a concrete role model for me, and also having brothers and strong male friendships, which subconsciously led me to feel like I needed to compete to be like them. I observed how boys respected one another, and how this differed from how I was perceived by boys growing up. I realised this and subconsciously adopted ‘male’ traits and interests in order to feel more respected and accepted by my male counterparts.  

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My secondary school experience left me feeling even more confused. I spent much of my early life in a bit of a bubble, attending an all-girls school. At the time, it felt normal, but looking back, I realised the environment wasn’t quite reflective of the real world. Students, teachers, the headmistress, and most people around me were female. We were given endless leadership opportunities: head girl, head of houses, sports team captains, and more. It was empowering, yes, but it was also a world carefully contained from male authority and dominance. I never had to experience male students talking over me or criticising how I looked or behaved. It was a protected environment, and while it nurtured confidence, it didn’t fully prepare me for the realities and power dynamics of wider society.

We had weekly assemblies praising students for their achievements and watched endless videos of campaigns like ‘This Girl Can’ and ‘#LikeAGirl’. These campaigns encouraged women and girls to take part in sport without worrying about judgment. ‘#LikeAGirl’ was one campaign that really stuck with me. It challenged the phrase “like a girl” being used as an insult. It showed that doing something “like a girl” means being strong, confident, and capable, and aimed to challenge sexist stereotypes from a young age.

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Because of this exposure, I rejected the traditional image of a woman. I searched for something bigger, with more meaning and fulfilment. For a long time, I saw femininity as weakness and gravitated toward ‘boyish’ interests. Being outdoors, sports, blue as my favourite colour, playing Minecraft with my brothers, Lego, Star Wars, and Cars. For most of my life, I didn’t like being a girl. But around age 20, everything changed. I embraced my femininity and felt a rush of power. Pink became my favourite colour, expressing myself felt exhilarating, and I truly felt like myself.

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Rejecting the narrow traditional expectations placed on women gave me space to explore my interests freely, push boundaries, and define my identity on my own terms. It wasn’t about rejecting being a girl, it was about embracing the freedom to be more than what society told me I should be.

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Now that I’m older, I feel comfortable being outspoken, confident, passionate, honest, and independent. I enjoy my own company, and feel empowered to do things alone. Leaving my small town for university opened up my world. I met like-minded women who embraced their femininity in completely different ways. Surrounded by ambitious, socially and culturally diverse friends, I began to see how much there was to learn from one another. 

In that space, I found my own sense of purpose, not one that was handed to me by societal norms, but one I chose for myself, and it shifted the scale of what I believed was possible. I stopped reducing my ambitions to make them more digestible and started thinking expansively about my career. I gave myself permission to want more. More responsibility, more impact, more recognition. For the first time, my aspirations didn’t feel unrealistic, and I began to see my future not as something to fit into, but something to shape.

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Above all, I came to understand that femininity isn’t binary or fixed. It’s fluid, personal, and constantly evolving. I discovered a style that felt true to me, one that embraced my femininity while recognising the masculine side I had once been criticised for. It was about combining female strength with elegance and power, creating a look that reflected who I am rather than fitting into anyone else’s idea of how a woman should present herself. I became comfortable tuning out the distractions of others’ expectations and choosing a life on my own terms, not one defined by the pursuit of a partner, but one focused on creating meaningful change, driven by intellect, passion, and ambition.

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Embracing my femininity has been a journey of reclaiming power, confidence, and self-definition. I’ve learned that womanhood isn’t a narrow path to follow but a landscape to shape for ourselves, blending strength, ambition, and individuality. True empowerment comes from refusing to conform, choosing our own purpose, and lifting each other, proving that femininity is not a limitation, but a force.